Obliviate!
by heos
Disclaimer — JKR owns everything, as it's right, and I don't own anything, except the plot and the sacred right to steal from real literature...
Chapter 2
8 pm — An Unexpected Visitor
I couldn't resist to pay homage to Edward Albee – Ten Galleons and a Chocolate Frog to whoever finds out which line has been written by Edward Albee, and possibly what the original context was. And if you haven't read Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf ?, you should be cursed to baldness…
A loud knock on the door shook Harry out of his rêverie.
"Yes?" he croaked.
Uncle Vernon's face, very red, appeared through a tiny opening.
"Come on, boy!" he hissed. "Someone of your kind is here to take you."
Harry's heart gave a jolt. The Order had finally come for him. He was finally going to be back where he belonged.
While uncle Vernon face disappeared again, he went to the desk and tried to stuff all his books into his trunk, with the result that The Monster Book of Monsters, which had hidden inside it, started to chase them out again.
Harry swore and put out his wand, ready to Stun it, but the book went suddenly quiet. Looking at the mess on the floor, Harry fingered his wand and thought quickly about Tonks. Maybe…
But no. The Underage Thingy Treaty had not been lifted yet. It was way better to go down and tell them he still had to do the packing.
Harry was so excited (for the first time in weeks he felt something different from pain, fury and despair) that he galopped downstairs, making a loud noise. But Aunt Petunia surely would not dare to scold him before a real, adult wizard…
Who was it going to be?
When Harry entered the living room, he was half expecting to see Lupin's lined, smiling face.
And his heart missed a beat.
Standing in the centre of the room, arms folded, a black travelling cloak around his shoulders, was Professor Snape. He was scowling at him with his most unpleasant expression.
Uncle Vernon and Dudley were nowhere to be seen, thus proving once for all that they weren't completely unintelligent. Aunt Petunia, however, was either too polite or too scared to move, and was sitting in one of the armchairs, her mouth a tight line.
"Potter," Snape said, "I trust you have not lost all your possessions?"
Harry was so disappointed, and so shocked to see the living counterpart of the image he had been blasting apart for three weeks, that he was lost for words.
"Have I not been clear enough for your dumb ears?" Snape repeated dangerously. "Go and find your trunk. We're leaving."
"Why you?" Harry stammered.
"Your trunk," Snape said again, his eyes flashing.
Harry knew that what he really wanted to say was dangerous, but it was now or never — and they weren't inside Hogwarts yet…he could not take points…
"How do I know you're not going to sell me to Voldemort?"
Aunt Petunia moved her eyes from the stranger to her nephew, trying to understand what was going on.
Snape was even paler than usual.
"I thought you had cleared that matter during your little chats with the Headmaster, Potter," he replied dryly. "Now for the last time, go and get ready."
Harry didn't move.
Snape took out his wand and traced a step forwards.
"We're going to your room, Potter. It appears I have to pack for you."
He began to walk slowly towards Harry, and Harry saw nothing to do but retreat towards the stairs. But he could feel his wand with his fingers, and his heart was thumping madly inside his chest…when Snape was off-guard…if ever he was off-guard…
The moment his hand moved beneath his sweater, he felt an iron-like grip around his wrist, and was forced to turn round.
"I've been fighting since before you were born, boy. You can't play this game with me. "
Harry looked straight at him, but didn't answer. You bat, he thought, you wait…You just wait, I'll make you pay…
Snape's eyes were boring into his, and a dry smile suddenly curved his lips.
"Your memory is inded very poor, Potter…After three weeks spent thinking even less than usual you forget that I'm a Legilimens…very poor," he whispered. "I'm following Dumbledore's orders, and it is out of the question for you to do magic, whether to attack me or to run away."
Harry didn't answered, but he closed his fist on his wand furiously.
"Are we understood?"
"Yes," Harry replied in an undertone.
"Yes what?"
"Yes sir," Harry said, wanting to strangle him.
He opened the door of his room and heard Snape sniff in disapproval.
Well, it wasn't a very nice sight. Books and dirty clothes were mingled everywhere, and Hedvig's cage smelled horribly.
"Scourgify," Snape said, pointing his wand at the cage.
The dark man turned to have a better vision of the room. He seemed to be considering the quickest way to pack everything.
Suddenly, Harry's glares in his direction were distracted.
A red and gold bird had appeared in his bedroom, his sparkling plumage reflecting the last sunlight.
"Fawkes?" he said, hopefully.
But the bird ignored him and went directly to Snape, dropping a note in his hand. Fawkes perched on Snape's shoulder while he was reading, and the moment he looked up, the phoenix took the note away, circled twice around his head, and then he was gone.
Snape steadied his grip on his wand and did a quick movement.
Next moment, Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed in the room.
"I need you to go immediately," he said.
"Where did he take them?" Snape said, his lips barely moving.
"This is for you to know and for us to find out."
"And what…?"
"Delay, Severus. Take time. We'll probably arrive in three hours."
"In three hours they'll be dead," Snape replied flatly.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said, unable to restrain himself longer. "What's happening? Who's been attacked?"
The voice was silent for a moment.
"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," it said eventually.