Chapter twenty: traitor

Ron watched as Malfoy smoothly demonstrated their current transfiguration assignment. The Slytherin was second only to Hermione in their year when it came to transfiguration, and usually got the spell right the second time around. Ron was unconcerned by this talent, as both he and Harry had managed quite good marks in the subject, and felt no special need to compete with their newest class member.

"Well done, Draco," Remus smiled and turned to look at Ron, "How are you coping with the spell, Ron?"

"Not too badly," Ron grinned and pointed his wand at the rock they were transforming into a book. The rock quivered and slowly changed shape. The finished product still had an air of granite about it, and didn't have the fancy family crest that Draco had managed on his, but it was serviceable enough, and a few more casts would iron out the kinks. Malfoy snorted in derision, but Harry and Ron had made a vow to ignore that sort of thing, though Ron would roll his eyes at the noise.

"Do you need a tissue?" Remus asked the blonde quietly, and Malfoy flushed a little, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. No one heard him, but it didn't matter, they were well used to his 'airs and graces' after spending a month in his presence. Upstairs the Floo roared, and Remus looked up expectantly. They were due for a lesson from Snape today, and Remus always made sure that he left the classroom ready for a potions lesson the moment the Head of Slytherin arrived.

Sure enough the door banged open, and Snape whirled down the steps in a flurry of dramatic black. Ron swept his transfigured rock off the table and Harry stowed his wand, turning to get out their potions books and cauldrons automatically.

"Hello Professor," Draco sounded glad to see the man, and Ron caught a small smile aimed at the blond from the corner of his eye.

"Draco," the tone was warm too, "Are you ready for the lesson?"

"Yes sir, though I can't speak for the others," Draco had the gall to reply, though he didn't have any equipment out at all, and Ron and Harry were both set up and waiting. Harry had fetched out Draco's things as well, and they were waiting in a neat pile at the corner of his desk. Snape merely raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing else before launching into the lesson.

They were working on Peaceful Sleep Draughts today, though the two Slytherins spent some time talking quietly to each other. In a way the Potions lesson was a chance for Draco to get his 'parenting' fix, as Ron and Harry had their own 'parents' nearby all the time. The Wizarding world thought that Draco had been kidnapped from Hogsmede, which meant he was not able to communicate with friends from school. He was isolated in the house, because he always declined their invitations, and Harry was tired of trying to befriend the other teen. He'd been more than gracious about ignoring the constantly muttered insults and snide remarks, though it was difficult to put aside his feelings when he was not the target. Harry didn't care about verbal abuse as long as it was directed at him. They were coming up to Christmas, which would be a lonely time for the former Slytherin Prefect, no matter that they all planned to drag him into the house festivities. The Weasley's were coming, though Sirius seemed to think that phrase was more like forewarning of a siege or plague instead of a welcome visit, and had taken to fending Ron off with cloves of garlic at random intervals. Malfoy's sneer had covered his lack of understanding of that particular joke.

Snape gasped suddenly and stiffened, clutching his arm. Harry looked up and confirmed that his Professor was being Summoned to Voldemort's side. Ron was already preparing to put his potion in stasis, well aware that to continue brewing would be a foolish risk. Snape had insisted that they either put the potions in stasis or evanesc them the moment he was summoned, and Harry didn't think it worth arguing over. It certainly wasn't worth putting the Potion Master on his wrong side over.

Snape took three swift steps towards the stairs and then dropped like a stone, a strangled moan tearing through his throat. His right hand was clawing at his left arm, and Harry felt a dark wash of magic ooze over them all.

"This isn't right!" Malfoy sounded terrified, "My Father never reacted to a Summoning like this!"

Snape had managed to get his sleeve open, and Harry gasped as he bent over the Dark Mark. It was oozing blood and pulsating strongly, a smell of burnt flesh rising into the air as Snape convulsed weakly, his breathing hoarse and ragged. Another wave of magic pulsed from the Mark and Harry instinctively created a shield to block it out, not wanting to be contaminated further. Ron and Draco would need a Cleansing Rite, and so would the cellar. In fact the whole house would if the magic leaking from the Mark wasn't stopped.

"What the bloody hell is going on!" Sirius yelled from the top of the stairs as smoke suddenly poured in a thin stream from the Mark and twisted itself into a single word.

'Traitor.'

"Voldemort will kill him!" Ron cried, and Harry shook his head in horror. Snape's Mark began to burn again, and this time the stench of scorched flesh was worse, as were the screams of agony from the flailing man Harry knelt before.

It wasn't right. Snape had made a terrible mistake, and then spent the rest of his life trying to atone. Dying a horrible, slow death was not a fair exchange for his salvation, and Harry's impressive instincts came to the fore.

The shield he had erected to block the dark magic warped into the visible spectrum and then bent and twisted, going from a sphere surrounding Harry to a fluctuating field around Snape. Harry had to pin the arm with the Mark to the floor, leaning down with all of his weight to try and steady the area he was determined to cleanse. The shield flexed and bent, finally surrounding the affected limb, and Snape fell blessedly still, panting raggedly for air and feebly moaning with each exhale. He was still alive then and Harry let a small part of him feel the jubilation that came with this small achievement. There were voices shouting in the far distance, but Harry ignored them, shifting his hands to grip the Mark that was tormenting his teacher.

Later, Dumbledore would theorise that the Purity of Harry's intentions, his instinctive ability to adapt Magic from familiar spells into astonishingly formidable new forms, as well as his rather impressive ability to love and forgive those that had treated him poorly, had been what allowed him to reach into his Professor's arm and magic and carefully snap the binding that linked Severus Snape to Tom Riddle.

The backlash threatened to destroy everyone in the immediate vicinity and Harry contained it sharply, straining his magic to its limits in an effort to protect those he loved and the man he was trying to free. For a moment everything came into sharp focus and then the world disappeared into a veil of white.

0o0o0o0

Severus had not been expecting to wake up, so the act of doing so had been rather a surprise to him. He wasn't too sure he appreciated still being alive after he saw the mess the Mark had made of his arm either, but knew better than to complain. Pomfrey, who had apparently moved into the house temporarily in response to this latest development, was certain it would heal into a remarkably unscathed limb, once the last of the burns cleared up, and they were doing so unnaturally quickly. He was allowed out of bed the day after he woke, left arm confined to a sling, while both Pomfrey and Dumbledore fussed over him. Even Draco was ridiculously over excited by his arrival in the kitchen, completely forgetting himself and smiling in a sickening fashion.

Potter was still unconscious, exhausted and battling to recover, though his life was in no danger. By his own request, Severus was allowed to visit the Boy-Who-Did-Impossible-Things-And-Survived-His-Meddling-Unscathed, but he did not stay long. Weasley was asleep at the foot of Potters bed and his godfather sat on the other side, holding a pale hand. Severus had stood by the door and glared, trying to come to terms with what had happened, his thoughts whirling in unpleasant circles until he'd been forced from the room to seek some sort of sanctuary.

He owed a Life Debt to the son of James Potter - and he suspected that this debt would never be repaid. He was finally through with the penance he'd been making for more than fifteen years of his life - penance for a single act of supreme foolishness. Joining the Death Eaters had seemed the thing to do at the time, and he'd rapidly come to his senses, though he'd disguised that awareness quickly. Albus Dumbledore had been openly defiant of Severus' Master, and some small part of him had noted that for future use. He'd gone to Albus in the end, warned him of an imminent attack and then begged for death. The Headmaster had stunned him and locked him away, and then offered him the penance that Severus had expected to last the rest of his surely short life. That he'd survived until the Potters were murdered and then had survived a second rising of his hated Master had been a miracle that he'd been unwilling to examine too closely, lest it fall apart under his eyes.

He had no doubt that the brat would manage to off Voldemort - as his students would no doubt phrase it - and that would be a second Life Debt he would owe. Chances were that Potter would never even gloat about it, and that would make it even more unbearable. It would hang over his head, an unspoken thing that haunted him until the end of his days.

Albus had of course come to the conclusion that Severus should not be seen in public - better that the Dark Lord think he had succeeded. It was unlikely that Voldemort would be able to distinguish between the snap of Magic on his own behalf, and someone else snapping it instead. The backlash should have been fatal, and the fact that Severus wasn't in the school at the time played to their advantage. He was now to all intents and purposes a dead man walking.

Thus Severus was stuck at Grimmauld Place, though the company of Draco would be welcome - in small instalments. Well, he would at least be able to tutor all three of the brats properly - there was really no reason why Potter and Weasley couldn't achieve distinction in their potion making and there was no Quidditch to distract them here. Draco would of course prefer the extra potions time - his godson had been constantly underfoot whenever Severus had to brew at Malfoy Manor. He would also take over the Defence lessons. If there was one thing he knew it was the Dark Arts and he saw no reason for Potter not to learn from the very best. There was untapped ability in that brat, and Severus had every desire to see it tapped and trained properly.

At the very least it would go some way to discharging his Debt.

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