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 4

10 pm — Will You Trust Me?

Harry was knocked out by the violence of the spell. Kneeling on the grass, fighting to keep everything in his stomach, he thought happily that the spell had worked – and then he saw before him the black boots of his teacher. He had almost forgotten about Snape.

But there he was.

Angry.

Very angry.

Harry felt something strong pulling him to his feet and found himself standing before Snape.

"What-have-you-done?" he hissed. "Have you the faintest idea of where we are?"

"I'm here to save them," Harry said, trying to seem proud in spite of his nausea.

Snape gripped his arm till it hurt, then let go, still looking at him angrily.

"You are lucky, Potter. I do not sense the presence of the Dark Lord. Apparently your friends were captured for some fun, and he didn't come."

Snape looked down at him, as though weighing him.

"There may be a chance for you to save your skin."

"I do not want to save my skin," Harry hissed back, and he truly felt like that. After Sirius' death, nothing was important. Except Ron and Hermione's lives, of course.

"You truly are a living portrait of your dear godfather," Snape said, sending waves of fury under Harry's skin. "You are ready to sacrifice thousands of people for a child's grudge."

"You were ready to murder an innocent man for a child's grudge."

Snape's eyes flashed.

"He's dead, Potter. He died for you. Is it too much to ask from great Harry Potter to live to be our hero?"

Harry gritted his teeth, but didn't answer. A part of him knew that Snape was right, and he hated that feeling.

"We're losing time," he said instead of voicing what he was thinking.

"As I imagine I can't ask you to stay here and wait for me..."

Harry shook his head.

"...then I will ask you to trust me."

Snape curled his lips, seeing Harry fighting with himself.

Snape had saved his life before...Dumbledore trusted him...he had sent him here to save his friends...and Hermione trusted him too. But not Ron. Who was right?

Harry put his pride aside, and decided to follow Dumbledore's decisions. After all, he had never been wrong.

Except for Mad-Eye "Barty Crouch" Moody, said a voice in his head.

But he quickly shushed it.

"What do we do?"

In that moment, the moment he saw a mingled expression in Snape's eyes and his mouth open to answer, a voice echoed behind them.

"Who's there?"

Snape's reflexes were very quick. He grabbed Harry's wrist, took his wand from his belt, hiding it under his black cloak, and pushed Harry forward with a violent thrust, all in one movement. Before Harry could react, Snape said:

"Crabb, is that you?"

"Snape?" the voice said.

And a massive silouhette emerged through the trees. Harry shivered. He had seen this man once before. He felt Snape's wand pushing him, and he walked forward.

Suddenly another man appeared, and Harry stopped dead. He remembered that face, but who was he?

The second man whistled through his teeth.

"Merlin's beard, Snape. How did you do that?"

"Dumbledore sent all his men to rescue your hostages, Lestrange, and Potter was a fruit to pluck," said Snape. "I'm on my way to the Serpent's Den."

Crabbe and Lestrange stared avidly at him, and Harry balled his hands into fists, remembering that Bellatrix was married to that man. Bellatrix Lestrange...and he was scarcely less dangerous than she was: togheter they had tortured the Longbottoms. All of a sudden, he hoped that Snape knew what he was doing.