A/N: I really hope you like this chapter. I think it is my favorite one I've written so far…
jinxedpotterfan1: Sorry about the last one being a cliffhanger..if you think that is bad, I'm heading to Antarctica soon, so who knows when I'll be able to update…expect at least three chapters between now and December, but I honestly don't know if I can do any more.
Mudbloodpotter05: I love your questions! Yes to both your questions, and much sooner than Christmas…those are chapters 9 and 10
Delaine: Give it a few chapters and you'll see a bit more about what Snape wants, although this one has a clue toward the end
Chapter 8: An Unusual Game of Quidditch
They all stood up abruptly. Ron dropped a box of old toys and it fell to the floor with a thud. Harry banged his head on the dresser drawer. They both faced Hermione, mouths wide.
"Snape?" Harry asked, anger in his voice. Hermione nodded. "I'm sure of it. I put a spell on the door that triggers when he enters." Ron offered a low growl and held his wand ready. Ron called Snape some things that made Hermione blush. Harry nodded in agreement at Ron's comments, and pulled his wand out as well. Harry added, "Let's go see what he wants." His stomach was flipping, but in excitement, as it would before a quidditch match. A duel with Snape? He was ready and eager for it. Harry turned toward the door, Ron close behind.
"Wait!" Hermione said urgently. "He can't get up here, remember?" They were still standing in Regulus' doorway, which was, of course, blocked by any non-members of the Black family. Ron and Harry nodded, unsure of where she was leading the conversation.
"So," she said, impatiently, "let's not rush into this! We need to make a plan this time."
"A plan?" Ron said faintly? "A plan? Let's just get the murdering—" "Fine," Harry injected quickly, to stop a fight from ensuing, although he added just as impatiently, "But let's be sure to get him this time."
Harry continued, "We'll head down there, and I'll appear first. I'll engage him in a duel, and you two sneak up from the other direction. Attack." He quickly added, "But I want to be the one to finish him off." He couldn't hide the longing in his voice to destroy the man who had killed Dumbledore.
Hermione looked at him closely. "Are you going to use the Avada Kedavra on him?" She asked this as casually as she would ask him if he had finished his homework. Ron, interested in the question, also stared at him attentively.
Harry glared at her. "How could I not? I need to. I HAVE to! He took away everything from me!" Hermione looked at him closely. "You said once to Sirius and Lupin that you didn't reckon your father would want them to become killers just because of Wormtail….Do you think they'd want you to become a murderer in revenge?" She stared at him, not backing down. He glared at her. She added softly, "You already are burdened with Voldemort…why burden yourself more?" Harry's resolve loosened slightly.
"I…I…," Harry stumbled with his words. His brain was screaming, "of course you must kill him!" But…could he kill in front of his best friends? Kill in the same situation he had stopped Lupin and Sirius, two full-grown wizards, from killing in? But Snape- Snape had killed Dumbledore. "SNAPE KILLED DUMBLEDORE," Harry suddenly screamed. "HE told Voldemort about the prophecy, and my parents DIED!" "He bellowed, "Of course I can kill him!" Hermione and Ron's expressions were curiously blank.
Harry stared at them both, quite literally shaking in anger. Then, unexpectedly, a calm settled in. In the rush of a battle, really, he thought to himself, it was just like a quidditch match. He was a seeker- seeking Snape's death. Snape's spells were just dangerous bludgers he had to avoid. Hermione had never understood quidditch, anyway.
His anger channeled into battle, he let out a deep breath and rushed toward the door, anger directed toward Snape. The tapestry was down. He screamed, "Toujours pur" and raced through it.
Startled by his sudden exit, Ron yelled, "Come back, Mate!" But Harry had already rushed through the door and out the tapestry.
As he ran down the stairs, Harry realized his cloak was in the drawing room. He cursed silently. Hadn't Dumbledore told him to keep it on his self at all times? At least this time he was facing Snape with his wand.
He thundered down the stairs, knowing Snape would hear him, and not caring. Snape was just a bludger, after all. Slow moving, easy to dodge, he convinced himself. As he reached the landing, he nearly fell he was running so fast. Taking a deep breath, he slid through a few rooms to the kitchen. Once again, Snape was there waiting.
This time, Harry was ready. "Expelliarmus" he bellowed as he spotted Snape. Snape had been ready, too. Their spells shot off each other and broke a dish that had been lying in the sink. Neither took a breath. "Petrificus Totalus" Snape screamed as Harry ducked and shouted back the conjunctivitis curse at Snape. They both missed, but Snape was faster on the rebound, "silencio".
Harry opened his mouth uselessly, but instantly, just like on the quidditch pitch, adjusted. Snape laughed his cold, high laugh. "Well, Potter, I guess we shall see how well you learned your nonverbal spells?" Harry shook it off. Nothing more than a bullying Slytherin, just like on the pitch. They exchanged spells non -stop for several minutes.
Snape was slowly gaining on Harry, who had been backed into the hallway. Harry didn't notice, and continued throwing spells, ever searching-searching for the spell to defeat him.
Harry screamed silently, "sectumsempra" and a splattering of blood fell across the wall as Snape's cheek was cut open. Enraged that his own spell was used against him, Snape sneered back, "Can't think up your own spells, Potter?" as he issued "sectumsempra" back at Harry.
Harry blocked it, "protego!" He was wearing out. For all of his quidditch skills and DA training, he wasn't used to dueling. But Snape was still going strong. He seemed to relish every moment of the duel.
"Haven't done it yet, Potter?" Snape asked Harry as he removed the silencing spell. Harry panted. "Done what?" He hit his second wind, as though he had finally spotted the snitch. " Tarantallegra" Harry taunted back.
Snape swished his wand lazily to block the spell. "Avada Kedavra, Potter," he spit out. "I killed your mudblood hero- and you can't use it against me? How do you plan to use it against the Dark Lord?"
Harry looked at Snape in surprise. He recovered instantly with the bat-bogy hex. "Why do you care?" he asked Snape, keeping the conversation to a minimum.
Snape looked at him, cold and calculating. "I could explain myself to a four year more easily than to you, Potter." He paused, and caught Harry with the disarming spell. Harry slammed against the portrait of Mrs. Black, who instantly began to scream at Harry and cheer on Snape.
As Harry fell to the floor, he muttered, "accio wand" and was up without missing a beat. He turned and faced Snape, and all of the rage he had built up over the past ten minutes exploded with a massive, "AVADA KEDAVRA". He had caught the snitch, match over. Gryffindor wins.
Snape gasped and slumped to the ground, unmoving.
Harry dropped his wand in shock.
Mrs. Black fell silent.
Harry stared, frozen. His heart was beating so rapidly he thought he it would explode. His mind began to race. I killed him, he thought. He laughed out loud. "I killed him!" For the first time since learning of the prophecy, his heart lightened. For the first time, he believed he could kill Voldemort.
His heart stopped and began skipping beats. For that one glorious moment, Harry had been proud of himself. But an instant later, Harry was disgusted with himself. "I'm no better than Snape," he whispered. His mind swirled to Malfoy. Even Draco couldn't kill a person, but he, Harry, had. "What have I done?" Harry whispered to himself. He felt tears roll down his face, and he slumped to the ground next to Snape's body. He would never be a child again.
Shortly later, Mrs. Black's noisy screams and tears joined his own. But Harry never noticed them.
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Harry was unsure how long he stayed in the hallway next to Snape's body. But as time passes, tears dry, and Harry found himself looking at Snape. "Professor Snape," Harry whispered softly. He was full of mixed emotions. He carefully turned Snape over onto his back. His body was still slightly warm.
With the warmth gave Harry hope. He put his hand on Snape's chest. Harry's heart skipped a beat. Was his mind deceiving him? He thought he felt a faint beat of the heart. Frantic now, Harry felt for a heartbeat on his neck. Faint. Very faint. Harry looked about wildly.
Whatever he had felt about Snape previously had been erased by the wild hope that Harry could save his life. Not be a murderer. Save Harry himself by saving Snape's life.
Harry knew no healing magic. He ripped open Snape's cloak, pushed back his head, and gave him CPR the way he'd seen on the muggle telly. Harry knew without a doubt, no moment of his life would be as fearful as this moment. Uncertainty swirled around him. In the back of his mind, he could hear Mrs. Black bellowing at him, calling foul names. But Harry ignored her.
Harry pounded on Snape's chest, breathed air in his lungs. Pound chest, breathe air. Chest, air. CHEST! AIR! Harry's brain screamed. Harry was exhausted, but never thought about quitting. And then, as Harry's mouth left Snape's he heard it- a gasp, followed by a cough. Renewed with hope, Harry continued unrelenting. Finally, exhausted, he dropped against the wall and watched Snape breathing- very shallowly, but breathing, none the less.
Harry wiped the sweat off his brow. I'm not a monster after all, he thought with relief. He picked up his wand and summoned a glass. He filled it with water from his wand. He waited. Slowly, Snape opened an eye and looked at him. Relief rushed over Harry, giving him goosebumps.
"Maybe you're ready to face him after all, Potter," Snape voiced softly before closing his eyes to rest. Harry looked at him. Pride once again filled his chest. He was ready. He could perform the curse. Maybe not to the death, not yet. But well enough for now.
He left the glass of water for when Snape awoke, slowly stood and walked up the stairs to retrieve his friends.
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As Harry walked up the stairs, thinking he'd ask Hermione about healing spells, he realized the full extent of what he'd done to them. He'd left them. Left them when they were a team. Left them behind the tapestry. Behind the tapestry only a member of the Black family could walk through. They were trapped. If Harry had died- they may have been trapped forever. Sweat suddenly poured down Harry's face. They are going to kill me for this, he thought. What the hell had I been thinking?
What must they be thinking? How much time had passed? At least an hour. They must be completely panicked by now.
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The tapestry had lowered once again. He could hear the screams of the tortured muggles as he approached it. He could hear- Hermione?
"Harry?" he hear her, voice full of concern. "Is..is that you?"
"Yeah, Toujours pur," he said, and the tapestry rolled up and he walked through.
"OH, HARRY!" Hermione screamed, jumping and throwing her arms around her neck, tears streaming down her face. Harry's shirt, the parts not soaked with sweat, were promptly drenched in her tears. "I'm so glad you are alive! I thought you were dead! It's been so long!" she continued to cry.
Harry nearly laughed, he was so relieved and surprised Hermione wasn't yelling at him for leaving them behind. He muttered, "I'm sorry, I got carried away. I forgot you—" But Hermione interrupted him, "Let's forget about it and just get Ron out of here."
Harry looked surprised. "Ron? What happened?" Hermione just said, "Well, let's just say he tried a little too hard to join you in battle, but the tapestry wouldn't budge." She paused. "So what did happen, Harry?" She eyed him curiously. Harry sighed. He really didn't want to relieve all of the emotions he'd go through in the past hour.
Finally, he said simply, "Snape is in the hallway... asleep, I think. We should keep him here until someone from the Order can take him in." Hermione nodded. "Let's get Ron to his bedroom and then floo the Weasley's. Molly can put Ron back together, and Arthur can take care of Snape."
Ron, who was laying on the floor, passed out and looking as though he'd simultaneously put every digit on his body in an electrical outlet, was easily magicked onto a floating stretcher by Hermione. Harry offered her one hand, and gripped a floating shoulder of Ron's. They walked through the tapestry.
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Minutes later, they had settled Ron on his bed and walked to the first floor. Harry could still hear Mrs. Black. He hadn't shut her curtains yet. He sighed, and walked to the hallway to shut them and move Snape.
Mrs. Black cackled as he approached. "You're too late, filth and mudblood," she laughed. Harry looked down. Snape was gone.