Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian
Chapter 28
Of Close Calls and Criminals
Standard Disclaimers Apply
oOoOo
It was only as Harry was walking into breakfast that he realised had just united with Snape. He sat down next to Neville, away from Ron and Hermione.
"Slap me up the side of the head, will you," he said to Neville. Neville looked bewildered.
"Why would I do that, Harry? You saved my life."
Harry laughed.
"Thanks, Neville. I just think there might be something very wrong with me." He lowered his voice dramatically and leaned closer to Neville, who's face was anxious in anticipation of what he was sure was about to be a very serious announcement. "I just had a civil conversation with Snape."
"Eep," said Neville, who truly believed that this couldn't be good. He shook his head slowly.
"No, Harry," he said emphatically. "It's definitely Snape with the problem. I mean, you're nice to everyone nearly, but Snape-" Neville shivered. "It has to be the Imperius Curse, Harry, it's the only answer." Neville lowered his voice as well. "We should tell someone."
Harry laughed.
"I think it will be okay, Neville. Hey, I have an idea," he said suddenly. He definitely needed an outlet.
"What's that, Harry."
"Well, it's going to be good, but I'm going to need your help…"
oOoOo
Unfortunately, the day of the Slytheirn versus Gryffindor Quidditch match did not dawn bright and clear, but no one had really expected it to. On the other hand, they had not expected it to be quite so stormy, either. Before the match began, Harry gave everyone the usual pep talk and then told them he would be back in five minutes. Looking out onto the pitch he saw that although it was windy, the snow had let up for the moment. He hoped it stayed that way.
Neville was at the required place and Harry handed him a small bundle.
"Okay, Neville, when I give you the thumbs up, light the red one. Try not to let anyone see you. Then, when Madam Hooch calls out the Slytherins, light the green one."
"Gotcha, Harry," replied Neville, and Harry beamed at him and set off cheerfully to find the Slytherins. As he neared their room, he heard raised voices and marvelled at the bonds of friendship that so obviously held their team together. He leaned against the open door frame and watched them arguing. It was really quite interesting, the way they talked to each other. Educational, too, he thought. There were some great insults that he would have to remember. It was also quite disconcerting when his name came up in one of the insults.
"You're such a retard, Greg," said Pansy, who was attempting to sit in Malfoy's lap. He kept moving away.
"Yeah, well, at least he's not shagging Potter," said another student. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"That was a grossly indecent comment, Blaise," said Harry, making his presence known. Malfoy spun around, sneering.
"Potter! What are you doing here?"
"I've come to wish you luck, Draco," he said. "After all, you do need it."
"Yes, I'm sure, Potter. Just make sure you don't faint on us or anything. Are you all better from your little trip?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew Malfoy was acting, at least partially, but it was still insulting. He waited until the guffaws had died down.
"Thankyou for your concern, Draco, but I think I'll be fine."
"Well, if you're done being nice, you can leave now," Malfoy drawled.
"As you wish, Draco. Should be a good game though," Harry said as he walked off. "I hear there's going to be fireworks."
oOoOo
As Madam Hooch called the Gryffindors onto the pitch, Harry zoomed past Neville and gave him a thumbs up. Neville surreptitiously prodded the end of the little red package with his wand and it zoomed up off of the ground and into the sky. A second later it exploded in a giant lion's roar and the words 'Go Gryffindor' splashed against the sky. Tiny little lions with golden crowns on their heads zoomed around the words, letting off miniature words. The Gryffindor stands exploded with approval and the Slytherins booed.
Harry landed just as Madam Hooch called the Slytherins onto the pitch, and a second later there was a second explosion.
Perfect timing, thought Harry. Raucous laughter filled the stadium as the Slytherins did their lap, all eyes on the words 'Slytherin sux' that was splashed in green across the sky. A long green snake twined around the words, hissing. There was a second explosion and what looked like a toilet bowl appeared. A little Gryffindor lion jumped down onto the button and the Slytherin snake was flushed out of existence. Harry couldn't help but laugh, although he would have to have a talk to Fred and George. He hadn't known they would go so far.
Harry saw as the Slytherin team landed that they looked livid, and they all looked murderously at Harry. Snape looked pretty mad too, thought Harry with sadistic glee.
"You're going to get it for that, Potter," hissed Malfoy, and Harry was quite sure that this time Malfoy was serious. He didn't have time to wonder what was in store for him though, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle and they zoomed up into the air.
Harry had a feeling that this was going to be a great game. The sky was dark, and the lack of light was mercifully easy-going on his eyes. He pondered the idea of getting sunglasses for his other matches. To his dismay, Slytherin scored the first goal, and then the second, but after that Gryffindor got their act together and scored the next three.
After that it got windier and the cloud got heavier, and Harry was forced to fly lower to even see the pitch. Not long after that it started snowing. Harry's hands, even with gloves on, began to get sore, and it was impossible to see the other players. He had no idea where Malfoy was. Instead of flying around aimlessly, Harry decided to head toward the left goalpost, where the Snitch often turned up. After a few minutes he looked up to see Ginny scoring, and cheered along with everyone else.
After another fifteen minutes, Harry did a lap of the pitch before returning to the goalposts. The snow seemed quite set in, and Harry vaguely wondered how long this match would go for. But suddenly, in a swirl of snow, Harry saw it. He zoomed after it, heading for the centre of the pitch, arm outstretched. Harry, not being able to see far in front of him, hoped someone from the stands could see him about to capture the Snitch.
The Snitch took a jagged turn to the right and Harry followed suit. At the same time his hand closed around the Snitch, another hand was reaching down from slightly above him, and for a moment everything seemed to pause. A split second later, Harry was catapulted backwards and found himself on his knees in the snow, Snitch clasped tightly in his hand. The snow seemed to be easing off slightly now, and Harry could see his firebolt a few feet in front of him, Malfoy on his hands and knees next to it. He was staring at Harry with his mouth open, and he struggled to his feet. Harry was blissfully aware of the clean, cold wind that was travelling across him, clearing the snow away. It was only snowing lightly now, and through the falling whiteness, Harry could see the people in the stands. He wondered why they weren't clapping and cheering. Odd…he thought he'd heard someone scream.
Malfoy was staring at him in horror, his face even paler than usual. Harry tried to speak, to ask what was wrong, but suddenly realised that he couldn't. A gurgling croak came from his throat and he reached up to find blood there. Slowly he looked down at his chest, and that was when the pain came, but it seemed as if it was all happening to someone else. He felt disconnected from his body.
"Woah," he murmured in amazement. He looked up at Malfoy in wonder, and all sorts of things were running through his head. "It can't end like this," he said, and it sounded like he was stating a fact.
Malfoy made a reply, but it didn't really come out as words. Harry extended an arm to him, but Malfoy didn't move. He seemed mesmerised. Harry put one leg slowly forward and tried to stand, but he stumbled forward and fell back to his knees. Other people were running onto the pitch now. Harry looked down at his chest and his hands curved around the smooth polished handle of Malfoy's broomstick. Blood was pooling on the ground around him, the front and back of his robes wet with it.
Harry looked calmly up at Malfoy as he realised something.
"Its okay, Malfoy. I'm not going to die," he said evenly. Malfoy's hands were shaking. Harry fell sideways onto the ground with a thump. Suddenly there were teachers and students everywhere, milling around. People were yelling accusations; some of the Slytherins were flashing each other triumphant smirks. Madam Pomfrey's face swam in front of Harry's vision and he was hauled upright, someone holding his shoulders to keep him there. Hands were working to remove his outer Quidditch robes, and he shivered from the cold. The pain seemed detached from his mind, and odd thoughts were floating through him.
He heard someone ordering someone else to contact St Mungo's, and then someone had removed his shirt. Panic filled Harry, and he searched the crowd for Malfoy. He had disappeared. Through the haze of shock and confusion, Harry sought out Snape. Their eyes locked and Harry opened his mouth, but only a gurgle came out. He coughed and blood sprayed forward onto the white snow. Focussing inward, Harry sent a sharp burst of magic through the Dark Mark, and saw Snape's expression change to one of understanding.
He lurched forward and waved his wand and a curtain sprang up around Harry, hiding him from the eyes of the students. Harry relaxed then, and leaned into the hands that were holding him up. He heard Madam Pomfrey utter a loud gasp as she saw the Dark Mark, but he didn't care. Snape would explain.
He looked down again at the broomstick that was lodged through his chest and thought with ironic mirth that Malfoy had done a better job at killing him than Voldemort ever had, and then he laughed. It came out as an incomprehensible noise, but Harry was sure that they understood what it had been. The curtain opened and Ron, faced white, rushed in ahead of Snape. He was saying something, looking in horror at Harry, but Harry couldn't hear him. Ron's eyes found the Dark Mark and he stopped speaking, his mouth gaping like a fish. Harry wanted to tell him that it was alright, but he couldn't, and Ron looked angry now, angry and sad.
He stormed out of the small enclosure and Harry felt a terrible sinking feeling. Harry put his hand to his chest where the broomstick had entered and saw the glistening red blood. Madam Pomfrey pulled his hand away, and a second later someone was wrapping his hand around a quill. There was a jerk behind his navel and they arrived in the foyer of St Mungo's.
Unaware of the people staring, Harry was hurried into a room, stumbling along as two people supported him. They sat him on the end of a bed, and then Snape was there, forcing a potion down his throat, followed by a second and a third. The third was blood, and Harry retched at the taste of it. The pain slowly dissipated and he looked down in awe at the broomstick, wondering how such a thing could have happened. He remembered vaguely in the few seconds before it had happened seeing Malfoy, speeding towards him. Malfoy had been slightly higher than Harry, and Harry thought that he must have been just surprised as him, and been unable to turn away.
Suddenly there was another witch there, beside Madam Pomfrey, and with a flick of her wand, Harry saw the broomstick disappear. That was when he felt the pain. Blood poured out of the hole, and he thought he might have screamed, if his throat had been working properly. Madam Pomfrey and the mediwitch began casting spells, and another forced a potion down his throat, nearly choking him. The pain reliever didn't seem to be working anymore, and he felt dizzy at the loss of blood. The white misty light pouring from their wands was settling on his chest and he could see the skin starting to repair itself.
He passed out.
oOoOo
Three days later, Hermione entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Ron and Seamus. She had been with her parents for four days after their ordeal, and was happy to be back at school.
"Hi, Ron," she said brightly. "Did I miss anything important? Who won the Quidditch game?"
Ron glared at his plate and didn't answer and Seamus and Neville dropped their forks.
"What?" asked Hermione. "What did I miss?"
Ron glowered more and Seamus answered her.
"You missed Harry getting skewered by a broomstick," he said.
Hermione's mouth formed a small 'oh' and her face paled.
"Skewered? By a broomstick?"
"Malfoy," said Seamus darkly.
Hermione looked over at the Slytherin table but Malfoy was absent.
"Where's Harry?" she asked. "Is he okay?"
"He's in the hospital wing," replied Neville, "but no one's allowed to see him."
"You should have seen it," said Dean, as he came to sit with them. "Malfoy's Nimbus sticking through Harry's chest and out his back. We thought he was going to die."
Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, who was still scowling at his plate.
"Ron, what's wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about Harry, Hermione."
"Why not?" asked Hermione, confused. "I think we were too hard on him the other morning, I mean, he doesn't see everything."
"Drop it, Hermione," said Ron, standing up abruptly. He left without another word. Hermione looked to Neville, who shrugged.
"Don't ask me. He's been like that ever since it happened. Won't talk to anyone about it."
Hermione picked up her bag and hurried after him.
oOoOo
"Ron! What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked.
Ron stopped and spun around, fury evident on his face.
"You know what, Hermione? I don't think we were too hard on him the other morning. I think he knew exactly what was happening that night."
Hermione stepped back in surprise.
"Why do you say that, Ron?" asked Hermione, bemused.
Ron came closer to her, his face contorted in disdain and hate.
"He's a bloody Death Eater, Hermione, that's why."
Hermione frowned.
"Don't be silly, Ron. Harry's not a Death Eater."
"I saw it with my own eyes, Hermione. Right there on his arm. I don't think the students saw, but the teachers- they know. And I'll tell you what- they're keeping it hushed up."
Hermione looked unsure now, but she shook her head slowly.
"No, Ron, he can't be. There has to be some explanation for it. I mean, you saw the state of him when he got back to Hogwarts- and that was after he saved your sister. We'll just have to go and see him and ask him," Hermione said decisively.
oOoOo
Harry was awoken in the middle of the night by a slight shuffling sound at the side of his bed, and he looked up to see the moonlight falling across the blonde hair of Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy?" harry rasped. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, obviously I came to see you," he said, and although the words were sarcastic his tone held no malice.
"You couldn't come in waking hours?"
"They won't let anyone in here to see you- or so they told me. I know for a fact that they let that new girl, Emily De Mere in here. She your girlfriend or something?"
"No," Harry said, fighting off a chuckle.
"Well, obviously they don't trust me then. They probably think I'm going to try and do you in again. You realise they had Aurors here and everything, questioning people?"
"Great," murmured Harry.
"Do you blame me?" asked Malfoy.
Harry turned his head to look at Malfoy more.
"No, of course not. It was an accident."
Malfoy grunted.
"Yeah, well, don't spread that around too much. I'm getting a pretty good reputation out of it."
Harry laughed, but stopped quickly. It hurt.
"Yeah, I saw some of your mates looking pretty happy about it."
"Hmph, well I certainly got you back for those fireworks. They're still trying to figure out who did it. I didn't tell them."
"What about the rest of your team? They heard me."
"Honestly, I'm not sure the teachers are willing to believe a bunch of Slytherins about anything when it comes to Harry Potter."
"So does everyone know yet? That I'm a Death Eater?"
"You aren't a Death Eater, Potter. You don't have what it takes to kill someone."
"I killed Bellatrix."
Malfoy's gaze darkened.
"From what I heard that wasn't entirely your fault."
"You haven't answered my question," said Harry."
"The answer is no. You're damn lucky everyone was too bust gaping at the hole in your chest to look at your arm. Snape put up some kind of curtain thingy to hide you so it was okay after that."
"Ron- he saw. He didn't like it."
"I saw him running away. Pathetic," Malfoy said darkly.
"He thinks I knew about the attack on Hermione's parents."
"Weasley jumps to conclusions without thinking," said Malfoy in disgust. Harry didn't reply. He agreed.
"So, uh, what happened to your Nimbus?" asked Harry.
"It has half-blood insides all over it. I will never touch it again."
"You know I can't tell when you're joking," said Harry.
"Maybe I wasn't."
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"Does it hurt?" asked Malfoy.
"Like hell."
"Can I see it?"
Harry lowered the bedspread and slowly unbuttoned his pyjama shirt.
"It's the same on my back," Harry said, referring to the round scar in the centre of his chest. "Just missed my heart."
"Merlin, you heal fast" breathed Malfoy. "You know what, Potter?"
"What's that, Malfoy?"
"I really think I might be sorry." Harry thought he looked quite confused.
"Thankyou, Draco."
oOoOo
"Things are finally beginning to work in our favour within the Ministry," said Dumbledore. "Arthur has successfully removed Azkaban from control of the Dementors, and they've put a lot into upgrading security there."
McGonagall nodded her approval, but then her face became troubled.
"Albus, what do you intend to do about Harry? Did you know he had the Mark?"
Dumbledore sighed.
"No, Minerva, I did not. I have barely spoken with him all year."
"Perhaps it is time you did so," McGonagall suggested, and he knew from her tone that she fully believed that there lack of communication was not Harry's fault.
"Yes. I will do that. I shall speak with him today."
oOoOo
"Can I have visitors today, Madam Pomfrey?" asked Harry. "I'm feeling much better."
"Yes, you may have visitors for a few minutes. I believe the Headmaster will be coming to see you later this afternoon."
"Oh," said Harry, his gaze darkening. "Thankyou."
Madam Pomfrey walked off without another word, and Harry realized that she had been acting quite cold to him since she had seen the Dark Mark etched into his arm. He sighed deeply, wincing when it hurt.
It was not much later when the hospital doors burst open to admit his dorm mates. Well, except for Ron. Harry's heart sank slightly.
"Hi, guys," Harry said brightly as they approached. He gave them all a box of lollies and chocolate from the gigantic pile next to his bed. They sat around talking, until Harry couldn't stand it anymore.
"So…what's up with Ron?" he asked casually. Neville and Seamus exchanged looks.
"He uh, he wasn't really very happy this morning. Hasn't been for a few days. We're not really sure what he was upset about."
"Oh," said Harry, looking away. They sat uncomfortably for a moment.
"Well, we really should get to class," said Dean.
"Thanks for coming," said Harry. "I should be out soon."
"Hope so," said Seamus. "You played well, by the way. No one really got to tell you that."
"Thanks, Seamus. You too." He turned to Neville. "Oh, and Neville. Nice timing."
Neville grinned widely and the other boys looked at them in confusion, but Harry just shook his head and they left.
Ron and Hermione finally came to see him during the lunch break.
"Hello, Harry," said Hermione, and he knew exactly what she wanted when her eyes flicked straight to his left arm. Ron stood staring moodily at the floor. Harry sighed and slowly rolled his sleeve back, shoving it towards them. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand.
"Happy now?" he asked bitterly. He couldn't help but be spiteful after what had happened.
"Oh, Harry," said Hermione. She lunged forward and hugged him, surprising him. When she pulled back there were tears in her eyes. Harry looked to Ron, who glared obstinately at the floor.
"I'm not a Death Eater, Ron," said Harry, as Hermione sniffed.
"Then why didn't you know about the attack on Hermione's parents? And you've been…distant…all year. You haven't been yourself."
Harry looked away, resenting the truth of Ron's last comment.
"I've changed Ron, and I'm truly sorry if you think that's because I've gone dark."
Ron heaved a deep sigh.
"I- don't really think you've gone dark, Harry," he said, finally meeting Harry's gaze. "I was just upset. And I just wish it could be like it used to. I'm sorry, Harry."
"I'm sorry too, Ron, but things won't ever be the same for us again, I don't think. I can't tell you everything yet, but after this war is over there's going to be a lot of secrets coming out. Things that are a lot worse than having a hidden sister."
"Harry," began Hermione haltingly. "You don't need to get involved in this war- you really don't. You shouldn't feel under any obligation because of what happened when you were younger. And no matter what happens, Harry, we will never give up on you. Never."
Harry smiled weakly.
"Thankyou, Hermione."
He wanted to believe it, he really did, but they could never understand what Harry would have to do, and he found himself wishing- hoping- beyond anything else, that they would never have to. He looked up at Ron.
"Come on, mate. Come sit here. I know I've got a dirty great scar on my arm, but it doesn't make me evil."
Ron let out a hesitant smile, looking slightly sheepish.
"I was a git," he admitted. "I should have had more faith. I was angry, but I knew, deep down, that you weren't dark or anything." He took a seat on the opposite side of the bed to Hermione.
Hermione leaned forward slightly, clearing her throat.
"I'm sorry too, Harry. I said things I shouldn't have, and I-"
"Its fine," Harry cut in. "I understand."
Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears again.
"We don't deserve you, Harry," she said softly.
"Don't be stupid, Hermione," Harry said firmly. "You guys are the best friends I ever had. You have stuck by me longer that anyone. You have absolutely no reason to be sorry. Now, let's get off this depressing subject."
They all split hesitant smiles, and Harry could almost pretend that they were back in the past, before there had been any great responsibility.
"So…d'you reckon we cold have a look at that scar?" asked Ron, flushing slightly. Faking a sigh, Harry unbuttoned his shirt and opened it.
"Blimey," Ron muttered, while Hermione gasped in horror.
"You know," said Ron, glowering darkly. "Malfoy's being treated like an absolute god amongst the Slytherins. I heard a rumour that they've got his broom strung up in the common room as some kind of good luck charm or icon or something ridiculous."
"That's impossible," breathed Hermione, staring avidly at Harry's chest.
Ron shot her a disbelieving look.
"I don't think so, Hermione, I mean I heard Snape say something about it to McGonagall."
"No, Ron, not that," she said. Her eyes went slowly up to Harry and the cut on his cheek. "You know, Ron, when I spoke to my parents they said that there was someone else there that night, besides the Death Eaters. They had a dark cloak on, but not a mask. They said he saved them. He took out all five Death Eaters before the Aurors could even get there, and when they did, he disappeared. No one knows who it was, but my parents…" Hermione's glance fluttered once again across his cheek, then down to the nearly healed slash across his chest. She swallowed hard and went on. "My parents said that the last Death Eater- it was Lucius Malfoy- he hit the person with some kind of curse across there chest, and they said there was blood on the hood of the person cloak, near there cheek. They said that person saved their lives, Harry."
Ron was now looking with dawning comprehension between Hermione's face and Harry's wounds, and Harry roughly shrugged his shirt closed.
"Don't spread it around," Harry said gruffly. How could he have been so stupid? Of course the Grangers would have reported that their rescuer had been injured. It didn't matter so much now, though, and he supposed he would have told them had they not had the initial reaction they did the morning after.
Well, maybe not.
Hermione burst into tears again, this time receiving an angry look from Madam Pomfrey, and lunged at Harry, causing him to wince slightly.
"Easy, Hermione," he grunted, and she sprung back from him.
"Sorry," she squeaked. "Why didn't you tell us, Harry? And how?"
"Bloody hell, Harry," said Ron. "You never do things by half, do you?"
"I didn't want anyone to know I was going out of school grounds," muttered Harry. "Especially not Dumbledore."
"Oh, that's so dangerous, Harry," Hermione fretted. "You could have been killed."
"There was no time to get anyone else. I had a dream of it, and they looked about ready to finish your parents off, if that's what they intended at least, so I just headed straight over there."
"How did you get there, though?" asked Ron.
Harry hesitated.
"I uh- I apparated. Illegally. All the more reason to keep it quiet."
"When did you learn that?" Hermione gasped.
"When?" echoed Ron.
"Not long ago," he said vaguely.
"Jeez, Harry, I feel like such a git," Ron said morosely.
"It doesn't matter, Ron, really," Harry assured him. And he found it really didn't.
oOoOo
Dumbledore's visit was brief and rather unproductive. He asked the usual inane questions about Harry's health, before asking him if there was anything Harry wanted to tell him, because if there was, his door was always open. Harry answered his questions as briefly as possible, and then he had told the old man that he wanted to be a part of the Order. Harry did not back down and only under his assurances that he had mastered Occlumency, and submitting to a test o fthis, did the old man himself finally submit.
oOoOo
The sun had just gone down when Madam Pomfrey forbid anyone else to see him, and he was glad for the break. He even managed to sleep for a while, and when he woke up the lights in the ward He heard the rustle of fabric, but turning his head in the darkness he could see nothing there. He closed his eyes again, but this time he could have sworn he heard a footstep. Turning his head sharply he listened hard for noises, and there it was again, a scuffle of fabric against the floor.
Suddenly he smiled. He knew who it was.
"Katherine," he said, and there was a sigh and Katherine appeared before him, Cloak in her hands.
"Good evening," she said formally, sitting down, but her arched eyebrow belied her serious tone. She grinned and he raised a hand to her cheek.
"It's good to see you," he murmured. "I wish we didn't have to do this in secret."
"It won't before forever, Harry," she replied, and Harry sat up, pulling her to him at the same time. "I was so scared," she murmured against his lips. "I was so worried that you were going to die. There was so much blood, everywhere."
"Shhh, it's all right," he murmured. "I'm not going to die."
"I believe you," she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.
"We shouldn't be making out in the hospital wing," he murmured feebly, pulling her closer against him. "But I sure do like it."
Katherine smiled against his lips, and Harry felt her hand slip beneath his shirt. Her slim fingers ran lightly over his stomach, higher up his chest and over the circular scar in the centre of his chest.
"It must hurt," she whispered, pulling back to look at him.
"Only a little bit now," he replied softly, and pulled her back to him. His hand played with the hem of her shirt, slipping under to caress the smooth skin there. Katherine let out a low moan as Harry's hand travelled higher and his lips moved over her jaw and down to her neck. Harry felt his heart beating harder, pounding against his ribcage, and felt himself becoming irresistibly aroused.
"Katherine," he murmured, his lips not leaving the warmth of her neck.
"Hmm?"
"Got any of that stuff on you right now? Because if you don't…we should…really stop," he said softly, placing kisses underneath her ear.
"I would think," came a cold voice from in front of him, "that that would be an excellent idea."
Harry could have sworn that his heart stopped then, if only for a second. He slowly withdrew his hand from the warmth of her body and she haltingly did the same, turning to face the intruder.
"Young lady," hissed Snape, his voice venomous as he enunciated each word, "you will go to my rooms right now, and wait there until such time as I arrive. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she replied, and stood, twining her fingers around Harry's for a short, unnoticeable second. She left silently, without looking at either of them.
There was utter silence for a long moment after the door of the hospital ward swung shut with an almost silent thump. The tension in the air was so thick that Harry thought that he might nearly stoop breathing. At this moment he thought that Snape might be fully capable of killing him. Perhaps he was just being dramatic, exaggerating, but as he looked up at the man himself through the darkness, Harry felt his doubts.
Snape was standing imperiously at the end of the bed, a vial in his hands.
"I brought this for you, Potter, but seems like I was wasting my time. You are already taking the blood of another."
Snape fell silent and Harry stared in rebelliousness and dismay at the dangerous undertone in Snape's voice. There was no way he was going to get away with this.
"Do you realise," asked Snape with deadly softness, "what you have done? Do you realise the foolishness of your actions?"
"You wouldn't care if it wasn't her," Harry shot back hotly, his voice a low hiss. He realised too late that that was the wrong thing to say.
Snape was looming over Harry in a flash, the vial of blood clenched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white.
"I had my suspicions, Potter, from what I saw in your mind that day. When I tried to substantiate this suspicion, I found them untrue. And then, Potter, that unfortunate incident occurred, and I had to question why she was taken. I can assure you that I am no fool, and now I have seen the proof with my own eyes. I don't think, Potter, that you understand the position we are in. You could have Turned her. You could have lost control and mauled her, or drained her until she was dead."
Snape's breathing was harsh, and Harry couldn't ever remember seeing him this emotional about anything.
"I was careful," Harry spat. "I would not have lost control. I would not have killed her."
Even as he said it, he wondered if it was true. Could he have lost control, just as Snape was telling him? Would she have died because of it? He looked down at his lap, away from Snape. Snape was not finished.
"Make no mistake, Potter, although your intentions may have been honourable, they are far from relevant. I have seen adolescents just as yourself lose control, from nothing more than normal teenage hormones. But you are not normal, Potter, and you are far more deadly. You will cost her her life."
"I saved her life," hissed Harry, angry now.
"She would not have been there in the first place were it not for you," spat Snape.
The truth of the words hit deep within Harry and he stared numbly his hands, unsure of what to say. This was Snape, and he couldn't tell Snape how he felt.
"You are right," said Harry finally, and he could tell that Snape was surprised. "I know you are right. And as much as I would like to pretend otherwise, there is no point denying what I am and what I will do because of that. I was a fool to think it would ever last, because I will never be accepted."
Snape was silent for only a moment.
"You have never spoken truer words," he said coldly.
"Well, I cannot deny my actions. She was not my first victim, and she will certainly not be my last."
"You call her a victim?"
Harry shrugged in reply.
"She is someone who has suffered because of me. What else should I call her?"
Snape stared down his long nose at Harry before extending the vial.
"Drink," he ordered, and Harry did.
"It's not as nice," he noted with distaste.
"Old blood is never as fresh, or as pure. It eventually loses its magical properties, but it is more than sufficient."
"Where do you get it from?"
"The blood you have been ingesting is mine," Snape replied sourly, Harry felt a momentary but nonetheless strong desire to vomit. "There is no place where you can buy blood legally, but I will continue to supply you with it. I have no choice."
"I don't want your blood," replied Harry, closing his eyes in the sudden weariness that had come upon him in the last ten minutes. "I didn't want anyone's blood," he murmured.
"You cannot deny it, Potter. Have you forgotten so quickly how weak you were in those months after you were bitten?"
Harry gave a short, coarse laugh.
"Someone once told me that being able to deny our basic impulses it what makes us human. I kept thinking that if I denied it long enough it would make it true."
Snape was silent.
"Go to sleep, Mr Potter," he said eventually, and Harry thought that his voice sounded bitter. Harry spoke to him as he turned away.
"Rookwood and his friend- you visited them?" Snape paused but did not turn around.
"Earlier this evening," he replied, turning his head only slightly to answer Harry. "The other was Rosier. They have been dealt with."
"They're dead?"
"They have had their memories stripped from them and are currently residing in an alley way in an entirely Muggle city."
"That's all you did?" Harry asked in disbelief. Snape tuned around.
"I was not gentle with them, I can assure you," Snape said, an almost satisfied sneer on his features. Harry nodded.
"Good."
"You condone my actions?"
"I have attempted two Unforgivables, Snape" said Harry bitterly. "I am in no position to judge you." He heard Snape draw in a deep breath.
"Who would have thought?" he taunted, his mocking voice irritating Harry. "Our Saviour is not so virtuous after all."
"They didn't work," Harry said.
"But you have taken the first step, Potter, and that is what matters. You have the knowledge, you have the intention, and I know you have the power. Now all you need is the will."
"What did it take to give you the will?" Harry snarled, suddenly sick of Snape. "Was it when they killed your precious Evelyn? Or was it before that, when your father abused your mother and you first realised he was a vicious bastard?"
Snape went suddenly still.
"You insolent little child," he said quietly, his voice quivering with rage. "I should-"
"Should what?" Harry interrupted. "Haven't you done enough to destroy my pathetic life? Just leave, Snape. I have no wish to cross swords with you, nor do I wish to point fingers. I will have enough of that to do when I bring down the Order."
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A/N: Wow, I have to say I'm really happy with the response this fic is getting! Thankyou to everyone who is reviewing. I have been getting some questions about the thing with Harry's eye. Some of you think he doesn't have one anymore. This is not the case. He still has both of his eyes, but one doesn't work anymore. That's why people aren't asking him where his missing eye went- Wujjawoo
Chapter 29: Of Manipulation and Murder