Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian

Chapter 21

Of Sacrifice and Signs

Standard Disclaimers Apply

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"It seems, Wormtail, that things are beginning to work in my favour. Despite the small issue of Arthur Weasley- which can easily be dealt with- Dumbledore's time has finally come. He will be gone soon, and I will be free to do as I wish."

"Of course, Master. You are the only one who-"

"Stop. Bring Potter and the girl. It's time I got what I brought them here for."

oOoOo

Far away, in an eccentric looking office, a scowling man jumped to his feet, clutching his left forearm.

"He is calling. I must go."

The weary old wizard nodded his head, sadness flickering across his face. It was unfair, he knew, that this man went through the things he did, and now it was fate, not the choices of himself or others, that was dealing him the bad luck. Severus Snape turned abruptly and hurried from the office, down through the maze of stairways and corridors, and out into the dark night.

When he reached the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and apparated to the designated meeting place, the sight that met his eyes did not bode well. His daughter stood in the centre of the circle of Death Eaters, gripping the arm of the boy whom Severus Snape detested more than any other. He looked terrible. Snape averted his gaze as he bowed before the Dark Lord, before taking his place in the circle, his gaze again fixing firmly upon the two teenagers.

Snape, over his worry, felt a twinge of pride as his daughter stood tall and gazed stubbornly at the wall of Death Eaters. He realized then that she wasn't holding Potter's arm for comfort; she was holding him up. In fact, the boy looked almost like he wouldn't be able to stand without help. His left eye was bloody and swollen, and one side of his robes was covered in blood. He stood with a slight stoop, as though it pained him to stand straight, and he held his right arm protectively against his side. His glamour was gone, and Snape could see that he was still sick and weak.

Stupid boy, he thought to himself. He should never have let himself get so weak. Nevertheless, Harry glared up at Voldemort defiantly, and finally the meeting began, with a single curse.

"Crucio," hissed Voldemort, and Snape perceived as much hate as he had ever heard in the Dark Lord's tone. Harry dropped to his knees with a small intake of breath, but his eyes did not leave Voldemort and he gave no other signs of pain. Despite himself, Snape was impressed, and he wondered if the boy had stood up to Voldemort like this on the other occasions he had faced him. Voldemort did not appreciate Harry's lack of submission.

Instead, his turned his wand toward Katherine, and Snape flinched ever so slightly as the curse struck. He knew then, with utter certainty, that if this continued for any longer, this would be the night that Voldemort learned of his true allegiance. Harry glared up at Voldemort, hate coursing through his veins, as Katherine screamed on the ground beside him.

"Stop," he ordered, gritting his teeth.

Feigning surprise, Voldemort complied, leaving Katherine panting on the ground.

"Stop?"

"Yes. I'll tell you the prophecy." Voldemort laughed, long and loud. He smiled down at Harry in amusement.

"You'll tell me the prophecy, will you?"

"Yes."

No, no, no! Snape screamed in his mind. You stupid boy!

"Excellent," breathed Voldemort, his eyes flashing with perverse excitement.

"But first," interrupted Harry, his voice strong and sure, "first you let Katherine go."

Voldemort laughed, and the laugh rippled unpleasantly around the black circle. Snape forced a laugh from his throat, thought he thought the request naything but funny.

"Oh not, Harry," said Voldemort softly, "you are in no place to bargain. If I let your friend go, you might not tell me."

"I'll give you the Wizard's Oath." Voldemort laughed again, though not as heartily.

"You mean this?"

"Yes," said Harry firmly.

"I could just torture you and the girl until you tell me."

"I would kill you," said Harry, with such finality in his tone that Voldemort faltered briefly and Snape almost believed he would. That was before he remembered that Harry probably could kill Voldemort now. Vampires were violent by nature. Voldemort grinned, as though it were all a game.

"Very well, Harry. But let us not use the Wizard's Oath. Let us use something a little more…fun."

Voldemort approached Harry and placed his wand to Harry's forehead. When he spoke, Snape felt shivers crawl up his spine. The abnormal hissing sound was the incantation of parselmagic, and whispers rushed through the air when Harry replied in the same manner, a white glow creeping around the two wizards. There was a bright flash of light and suddenly Harry fell to the ground, clutching at his head in pain. Voldemort stood with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Lucius, I will leave it to you to return the girl. Go now."

"Of course, my Lord," murmured Malfoy, stepping forward. No, thought Snape, he cannot take her. He was about to step forward, to say something, when Harry struggled to his feet.

"No," he gasped. "No."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"No, Harry?"

"Let Snape take her," Harry gasped, as though he couldn't catch his breath. "Let Snape take her, and when he returns with proof that she is safe, and then I will tell you."

Snape silently thanked the powers that be that Potter had used his brains for once. Voldemort sneered; he had no choice but to comply.

"Very well," he snapped. "Snape, taker her now. Quickly."

"Yes, my Lord."

Snape darted forward and grasped Katherine's arm and with a snap, they Disapparated.

oOoOo

Harry stood silently, Voldemort before him and Death Eaters surrounding him. The air was heavy with animosity, but Harry's heart felt light. He no longer cared if Voldemort knew the prophecy; after all, what could it really do, and Katherine, Ginny, and Neville were safe. That was all that mattered. Snape reappeared with a pop and strode over to Harry, his wand to his temple. He extracted a memory, as Harry had seen Dumbledore do on numerous occasions, and held his wand to Harry's temple. The memory became Harry's memory, and he saw an image of Katherine lying on a bed in the hospital wing.

Snape turned abruptly to Voldemort and bowed.

"My Lord, it is done."

"Return to your place," Voldemort snapped, his voice anxious but excited. "Now, Potter, you will tell me the prophecy."

"I can show you," said Harry.

And the battle of the minds began.

As Voldemort accepted Harry's offer of entering his mind, Snape saw the genius of it all, and wondered if the boy had been planning it all along. He wondered if it would work, and why Voldemort had not seen the danger yet. Voldemort approached Harry and entered his mind, and Snape watched in fascination as the two of them went rigid, staring into each others eyes.

Voldemort was the first to fall to his knees, but his head snapped up, his eyes remaining fixed on Harry's as though connected by an invisible force. Harry followed moments after, and Snape thought that it must have been the element of surprise that had given Harry the advantage. Snape watched as a drop of blood slid from Harry's scar, coming to rest on his cheek like a tear. It was a moment before Snape realised that the wards surrounding the meeting place had dropped, and the stillness of the air was oppressive.

Inside Harry's mind however, things were anything but still. He had tricked Voldemort, and he had done it successfully. But it had not gone as Harry had planned. He felt the wards drop, but when he tried to apparate, he found he couldn't. He panicked when he realized that he was stuck. He was in Voldemort's mind, and Voldemort was in his, and only one of them wanted to leave. And now, pain was starting to cloud Harry's mind. His scar was on fire because of the presence of Voldemort and the rest of his body felt the same. He had refused to tell the prophecy. He had disobeyed the rules of the Oath. And now he was paying for it.

As his body weakened form the pain, so did his mind, and Voldemort pulled free with a scream of pain, his voice mingling with Harry's as the trance was broken. Harry slumped to the ground and Voldemort backed away from him, disgust on his face.

"Master, what happened?" asked one of the Death Eaters whom Snape did not know. Voldemort smiled cruelly.

"He refused to tell me the prophecy. He broke the rules. The pain will only get worse now, until he tells me the prophecy."

Snape looked at Harry, writhing on the ground in pain, and wondered what the point of it all had been. The wards had dropped, but the boy had done nothing. Something must have been holding him back.

Voldemort knelt next to Harry, and grabbed Harry's face in his hands, forcing Harry to look at him.

"Tell me, Potter, and it will all go away," he said softly.

"The prophecy," gasped Harry, "It says…ugh." Harry gasped in pain. He could barely speak it was so great, but already, with those few words, he thought it might be decreasing.

"That's right, Harry," encouraged Voldemort. "Keep going."

"The prophecy says that…you will mark your equal. Your equal who was…born…when I was born. It says that one of us…must kill the other, because only we have that power," Harry panted, the pain slowly subsiding. "You have marked me, Tom, and I will kill you."

Voldemort's joyful laugh rang through the night as he stepped away from Harry.

"You see," he addressed his Death Eaters, his voice victorious, "my success is guaranteed. This boy, who is no more powerful than any other useless half-blood, has been prophesized as the only one who can defeat me! And here I stand, and I have defeated him!"

"You're a half-blood too, Riddle," yelled Harry, standing up. "Or don't you remember? Tom Marvolo Riddle, remember? Your Muggle father."

Voldemort spun to face Harry, his face a mask of rage.

"You dare," he hissed, "to associate me with that filthy creature? I have risen above what he was. My blood is the purest, the-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're the only living descendent of Salazar Slytherin and all that rubbish. Well, guess what, Tom, nobody cares. Salazar Slytherin lived centuries ago. He's been all but forgotten. You see, everyone else is just like you, too caught up in their own importance to worry about others. They don't care who you're related to!"

Voldemort sneered and turned away. He looked around at the circle of Death Eaters.

"Who would like to show this filthy excuse for a wizard what power can do?" he asked. A number of Death Eaters stepped forward, but it seemed that Voldemort had his mind set on one in particular.

"Severus Snape, you understand what power is, do you not? Like me, you have risen above the reputation of your Muggle father and made a name for yourself. Show Mr. Potter what we do with power."

Harry blinked in surprise. Snape was a half-blood? Of all the hypocritical, self-important-"

But Harry didn't have any more time to insult Snape as the Cruciatus Curse struck him. He dropped to his knees, in anger and pain. Snape lifted the curse and Voldemort made a sound of dissatisfaction.

"How disappointing, Severus. Come now, I know you to be much more creative than that. I trust you will not disappoint me again, Severus. Begin."

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A/N: Well, not as long as I'd hoped, but that seemed to be the best place to stop. Good? Bad? Certainly not my favourite chapter, but reviews are appreciated. Another question for you- Should there be more romance? I'm pretty sure I'm going to put some more in but I want your opinion. Also- who can guess who Voldemort's servant is? The one who dobbed Katherine in to Voldemort?- Wujjawoo

Chapter 22: Of Elves and Elections