A/N: Hello again, loves! This will be my third posting in a week… but likely the last before next. I couldn't leave you all with the cliff-hanger! I will try to keep the updates as speedy as I can make them. One more chapter of summer, I believe, and then Chapter 22 should start us at term at last.

Review responses for Chapter 19 are at the bottom. I can't tell you how pleased I was at the wonderful response, and really wish to thank everyone who read and reviewed!

Enjoy Chapter 20!

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and story lines are the property of the wonderful Joanne Rowling, in whose world I am honoured and privileged to have an opportunity to play for a while.

Chapter 20: Hell is Murky

Harry landed on his feet – a first for his apparition experiences – though he suspected that was due only to the fact that his mysterious captor still had him in a tight chokehold. He could barely breathe for the man's iron grip.

'Petrificus Totalus,' the man muttered, releasing his hold on Harry at last.

To his great relief, Harry felt glorious air rush into his lungs before he could pass out; but he fell to the floor all the same as his legs snapped firmly together and his arms were pinned to his sides. His head cracked hard against the floor – and it occurred to him that what he had taken to be an earthen underground cavern was actually built of very dirty stone.

The strange man stood over him, still bearing Snape's appearance. But the leer he wore as he gazed down at Harry was darker than even Snape had ever bestowed upon him. The sight would have made him shiver, if he weren't already paralysed.

'Harry Potter,' the man said with relish, shaking his head as he fingered the pale wand. 'You cannot know how much I have longed for this day; the chance to meet you… to take my vengeance.'

Harry felt his blood chill: the words were quite familiar. He could hear them echo through the weeks; as if he were still facing Riddle in the Chamber. He struggled for speech.

'Ah, tongue tied, it seems,' the man said with false concern, crouching down toward him. 'Now, that won't do. I want to hear you beg for mercy, Harry Potter. I want to watch you suffer as you die at my feet.'

He muttered a low incantation, and Harry felt the enchantment lift from his head and neck.

'Who are you?' Harry repeated. His voice was hoarse; from fear, or silent screams, he wasn't sure. 'Are you Voldemort?'

'Crucio!' the man cried, directing his wand at Harry with a furious swipe.

The jet of light hit him squarely in the chest, and Harry screamed as he never had before in his life. Violent waves of white hot pain were coursing through him, until he thought his innards were trying to claw their way out through his skin. The man held the torturous curse for several long seconds, or minutes, or perhaps hours; Harry could no longer tell. All he knew was agony; all he could see was red.

At last, the spell was ended. Harry gasped for breath, body still forcibly restrained. He turned his head to spit a mouthful of blood onto the dirty floor, and felt a new mouthful pool almost immediately. He could still feel the ghosts of the knives.

'Do not speak the Dark Lord's name with your filthy, unworthy lips,' the man snarled, kicking Harry's head straight again with the toe of his boot.

Harry longed to groan, but he did not want to give the man the satisfaction. He turned the other way to spit again.

'Who are you?' Harry repeated once more, when he'd cleared his airway.

'I am the Dark Lord's last true servant; the last of us freed and in search of him. And I have wanted you, Harry Potter, for years. With you vanquished, the Dark Lord will return to power.'

'He's finished,' Harry spat, hot head pushing sense beyond reason. 'I've seen him, you know; he's a wreck, a shadow. And he'll never be powerful again.'

'You know nothing,' the man countered, leering unpleasantly. 'There are always ways to return… always. Only Death can ruin a man. And the Dark Lord, Harry Potter, has always been much, much more than a man.'

'There are fates much worse than death,' Harry countered, quoting Albus.

He wasn't sure whether he was doing it to goad the man, or whether he was trying to find comfort in the idea himself. Dumbledore, after all, could not help him here. Harry didn't even know where 'here' was, come to think of it. There was no Sorting Hat; no Fawkes; no headmaster and no Minerva. Nobody to rescue him; nobody to fight for him; nobody to take a fatal curse for him.

There was just Harry. And all he had was a wand he could not reach and –

And a portkey.

'There is nothing worse than Death, you foolish child,' the man snapped, sounding much more like Snape than he had at any other point tonight.

'That's what you think,' Harry retorted. He was speaking at random now: trying to delay the final blow. He knew he had to keep the man talking; buy himself some time, if he was ever going to be able to get to that portkey. He concentrated harder than he ever had done on the real Snape's instruction; trying to force his magical core into action.

Finite. Finite. Finite.

'Crucio!' the man cried again, and Harry's concentration was broken as he was flung into the air, the agonising pain gripping him once more. He thought his throat would tear from the screams, but he could not seem to stop them.

The Portkey! he tried to tell himself. Concentrate!

But he could not do it. The pain was all-consuming… it would kill him…

The spell lifted again, and Harry was dropped to the stones. He sicked up at once, nearly choking as he tried to cough it out of his throat while only able to move from the neck up. The man laughed as Harry's vision blackened; a high, cold laugh that nearly matched in pitch the laughter of Voldemort himself.

The laughter that Harry heard every time he came too near a Dementor…

The laughter of triumph, as Voldemort cut down his mother.

His sweet, funny, beautiful mother… who had died so that Harry could live.

Who had died while Voldemort laughed.

A fierce surge of hatred coursed through him. And, miraculously, the fire of it burned the paralysing enchantment away.

Harry popped up from the ground as if he'd been electrified, the eerie surge of raw magic expanding out from him as though he'd caused some sort of seismic shift. The horrible unknown man was thrown backward with the force of it, his pale wand slipping from his grip as he smacked the opposite wall.

Vaguely, Harry registered that the man was starting to shrink slightly; his hair lightening from the deep black of Snape's greasy mane.

But the man was also lunging for the fallen wand; and Harry could feel his own strength leaving him.

He fumbled at his neck for the pendant chain, turning the oval over in his bloody, shaking hand.

'Emmeline,' he gasped out, just as the man got hold of the wand again, shouting a curse and slashing his wand at Harry.

A jet of bright green light came speeding toward him, a sound like the rushing of a train filling his ears…

But the portkey had activated, and Harry was pulled away.

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Minerva and Severus each took one child, and one portkey. Both traveling pairs landed in Emmeline's sitting room seconds after her patronus had vanished.

Minerva dropped her grip on the pendant at once, frantic with fear as she gazed around the room. The house was still and silent. The low candles burning in sconces and on the tables gave the elegant room an inviting aura of tranquillity that could not have been more inapposite with the pounding of Minerva's heart.

Nor with the puddle of fresh, scarlet blood shining on the handsome carpet.

'Harry?' Minerva called, darting toward the foyer. 'Emmeline?'

The little elf from the morning, Dorry, popped up before her, halting Minerva and the rest of the group, who had trailed her into the hall.

'Mistress is bringing the boy upstairs,' the elf informed her solemnly. 'To his room.'

'Thank you,' Minerva said hurriedly, already climbing. She sprinted the length of the corridor to the chamber that Harry had been assigned. The door was already ajar.

'Harry, thank Merlin,' she said, rushing inside with Severus and the children at her heels.

Harry was lying on the bed, looking utterly exhausted and covered in blood and grime, but he smiled as he caught sight of them. Emmeline was busy at his head. A basin of water and a bloodstained flannel were set upon the nightstand.

'Harry!' Hermione cried, hurrying for the bed. Minerva lunged to grab her by the arm, afraid she might jostle whatever Emmeline was attempting.

'It's alright,' said Emmeline with a reassuring smile for the girl as she stepped back. 'I'm finished with that, for the moment.'

Minerva relaxed her hold, and Hermione resumed her dash for the bed. Ron followed with slightly more reserve, his jaw set as he surveyed all the blood. Minerva moved forward as well, taking in the child's state for herself.

'Are you alright?' she asked at once. She studied his face closely, cupping his cheek with a careful hand.

'I'm f–' Harry began, but he cut himself off at her gaze. 'I've been better,' he admitted hoarsely.

'What happened, mate?' asked Ron in a low voice from the opposite side of the bed. 'Who was the bloke who took you? What did he do to you?' he added nervously. Beside him, Hermione gave a stifled sob as she clutched Harry's hand between both her own.

'I don't know who he was,' said Harry tiredly. 'He never really said. I thought –' he paused, shooting a wary glance at Severus. The Potions master was standing just inside the door with his arms crossed as he glowered at the bed. 'I thought it was you, sir,' Harry admitted, looking at Severus.

'I am aware,' Severus said shortly. 'Obviously, you surmised after your capture that it was not.'

'No,' Harry disagreed. 'I worked that out before we left the stadium grounds. He was good; good enough to trick me into leaving the stadium with him. But then he called me "Harry," and his wand wasn't right. It was pale, and shorter than yours.'

Severus looked surprised at the deduction, but he schooled his face almost at once. 'Very well,' he said tightly. 'But why did you not use the portkey immediately? You were gone at least thirty minutes, before Emmeline sent word.'

'He had a grip on me,' Harry explained, shaking a little at the recollection. 'He got me round the neck, so I couldn't call for help. I could barely breathe. Then he apparated us both away, to some odd room of dirty stone. I think it might have been a basement, or a dungeon. There weren't any windows.'

He tried to sit up a bit in the bed but gave up the effort with a gasp. Minerva eased him back down again, hovering as he caught his breath.

'Did you run a diagnostic?' she asked Emmeline anxiously, turning from Harry's face for the first time since they'd entered the bedchamber.

'I did,' Emmeline assured her in her calmest voice. 'Why don't you leave Harry with his friends for just a moment –'

'I don't think –' Minerva began with a frown.

'And we can talk with Severus in the corridor,' Emmeline finished with a significant look.

'Alright,' Minerva agreed reluctantly. She turned to Harry again, who seemed almost on the edge of sleep. 'Will you be alright for a minute, Harry?' she asked him.

He nodded in a vague sort of way, and Minerva slipped out after Emmeline and Severus.

'What is it?' she asked, when she'd shut the door quietly behind her. 'Is he badly injured?'

'Not exactly,' said Emmeline carefully. 'He was nearly unconscious when he got here; but the injuries were cuts and bruises mainly, all of which I have already attended to save for the clean-up. But there were two slightly more concerning items I noted in the diagnostic.'

'Which were?' Minerva pressed impatiently.

'Some pretty significant magical exhaustion, for one.'

'Not entirely unexpected,' said Severus carelessly. 'He has shown a proclivity for wandless magic; but you know how that sort of spellwork can affect underage magicians. No doubt he pushed himself too far; this would not be the first time. The other?'

Emmeline passed over the slip of parchment wordlessly. Severus took it, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he scanned it through.

'Did you ask him how long?' he asked with a snarl, crumpling the parchment as he finished.

'How long what, Severus?' Minerva put in irritably.

'Potter was held under the Cruciatus Curse,' the Potions master said shortly. 'For some time, by the looks of it.'

Minerva clapped a hand to her mouth in horror. 'But, Severus!' she squealed, grasping his arm quite as tightly as she had done at the match so many lifetimes ago. 'His mind –'

'Is obviously fine,' Severus pointed out, wrenching his arm away. 'I think you need worry only about physical damage at this stage.'

'I gave him an invigoration draught for the magical drain,' Emmeline informed them. 'And he's had pain reliever and a blood replenishing potion. He should have a potion against the after-effects of the curse… but it isn't one I keep on hand. Not in years, at least.'

'Perhaps we should call in a healer,' Minerva said, wringing her hands worriedly. 'But I don't want him at St Mungo's after what's happened tonight, and with Albus gone…'

'What about Poppy?' Emmeline offered. But Minerva shook her head.

'In Majorca until next Tuesday,' she said. 'And it's so late…'

Severus rolled his eyes. 'I rather think we can make do,' he said stiffly. 'I do not carry a potion for Cruciatus on me, but I keep some prepared in my personal stores out of habit. It should be within date. Perhaps your elf,' he turned his gaze to Emmeline, 'Would consent to retrieve it?'

Emmeline clapped her hands once, and the little elf appeared. Severus entrusted the task, and the creature popped instantaneously away again. Severus turned back to Minerva.

'We need the whole story,' he told her firmly.

'Severus, Harry needs rest,' she protested. 'It can keep until morning, I think.'

'We need to know how long the curse was held. And I need to know what Potter did to tax his magical core into exhaustion. And if the man who took him comes to the inn in the night?' he challenged. 'If he's deduced where Potter is being housed? What then, Minerva?'

She sighed, pushing the door ajar. The three children were huddled on the bed. Harry was still awake, though clearly very drowsy. Minerva pulled over an armchair, leaning down toward the child.

'I was so worried tonight,' she said gently, brushing back his hair. He smiled a little, though he still looked distressed. 'I need you to tell us, Harry, what happened when you arrived in the place with the stone.'

She wondered fleetingly if she ought to send the other students from the room. But she knew it was likely pointless; Harry would tell them anyway.

He shivered, taking a deep breath to begin.

'I don't know where it was he took me,' he said. 'It might have been in the city, or it might have been miles away. When we landed, he put petrificus totalus on me, so I couldn't move. Then he lifted it from just my head and neck so that…' He swallowed thickly. 'So that he could hear me scream.'

Minerva felt a chill creep down her spine. Hermione gave another muffled sob, and Ron swore loudly. She let Severus deal with the reprimand – she couldn't take her own eyes from Harry's face.

'I don't remember all of the details now,' Harry admitted. 'Everything happened so fast. We were arguing. He hit me with some sort of curse… an awful curse. It was like every inch of me was being tortured,' he shivered again, voice breaking. Minerva smoothed his hair.

'For how long?' Severus asked clinically.

Harry frowned. 'How long was I there?' he asked. 'I don't know – you probably have a better idea of the time that passed than I –'

'You misunderstand me,' Severus interrupted. 'For how long were you held under the Cruciatus Curse?'

'The what?!' Ron spat, looking horrified as he ogled Harry. 'You – you weren't, mate, were you?' he asked urgently. 'Dad's told me about that one. It was really popular when You Know Who was around. It's supposed to be the worst pain imaginable. And it can drive wizards mad, if they get held under too –'

'Yes, thank you, Weasley,' Minerva cut across him as she watched Harry's colour fading at every word.

'Don't worry, Ron,' said Harry in a rasp. 'I'm fine.'

'Clearly,' Severus said sarcastically. 'How long, Potter?'

Harry shrugged. 'I don't really know,' he admitted. 'It was hard to tell. He did it twice though.'

Severus frowned, but he didn't interrupt again. Minerva tried not to let her anxiety show; there was no point, at least until the elf returned with the potion.

'Anyway,' Harry continued, 'He told me he wanted to hear me suffer, and then watch me die. After the second curse, he just stood there and laughed. He sounded just like Voldemort –' everyone twitched and Ron hissed 'Don't say the name!' – 'When he was murdering my family,' Harry finished. 'It made me so furious, I was finally able to remember how to do what you've been teaching me, sir,' he said, catching Snape's eye again. 'Some sort of magic came; not a spell, exactly. I hadn't really come up with one. But I wanted to move, and I wanted to get away from him. I felt odd: like a ripple or something was coming out of me. But he got blasted back by it and I was able to stand. Then I used the portkey, just as he tried to curse me with something else. I ended up here, and Emmeline brought me upstairs and sort of patched me up, and then you lot arrived back.'

'What do you mean, what Professor Snape's been teaching you, Harry?' asked Hermione curiously.

'Wandless magic,' Harry told her. 'Ever since I got back.'

She looked impressed, and slightly worried. 'But, Harry, that's very advanced magic. And it's dangerous! You might have –'

'This is not information to be shared outside this room, Ms Granger,' Minerva told her firmly.

'I – of, of course, professor,' the girl said. She still looked nervous. Beside her, Ron was glaring at the Potions master with naked mistrust. But they were all saved further explanation by the appearance of Dorry, carrying two phials of bright green potion.

Severus thanked the elf, unburdening her hands, and she vanished again with a crack. He lifted one of the phials to eye-level, turning it to scrutinise the brew. Apparently satisfied, he handed both to Minerva. She uncorked the first.

'Oh, I really don't need anything else, Minerva,' Harry said entreatingly.

Minerva smiled, but held the phial out. 'This is a specific potion against the effects of the curse you were describing,' she told him. 'It will take away any residual pain.'

'I've already had pain reliever,' he said. 'Do I really need something else as well?'

'No,' said Severus curtly. 'The Cruciatus Curse very rarely causes lasting physical damage, and almost never on one's first exposure. So, if you would rather suffer the long and painful recovery for days on end, you are perfectly free to do so.'

Harry scowled, and Minerva fixed the Potions master with an exasperated glare. But the boy took the phial anyway, draining it with a martyred expression. He seemed surprised as he swallowed.

'I can't taste anything,' he noted happily, accepting the second phial with much more grace.

'A numbing agent that works quickly on the taste buds,' Severus informed him. 'Concentrated –'

'Capsaicin?' Hermione guessed, looking interested as Harry knocked the second phial back.

Severus' eyes flashed dangerously at the interruption, but he gave a reluctant nod.

'How fascinating,' she said, taking the empty phial from Harry and sniffing at the glass. 'Yes, you can smell a bit of the lingering chili powder.'

Harry and Ron caught each other's eye, grinning indulgently. Even Minerva smiled a bit.

'You never discovered your captor's identity?' she asked gently, turning back to Harry.

Harry shook his head. 'He wouldn't tell me who he was, just that he was Lord Voldemort's last true servant.'

'Black,' Minerva guessed, sharing a fierce look with Severus.

'No,' Harry disagreed. His voice was fading somewhat from all the talking. 'It wasn't him… I don't know who it was, but it wasn't Black.'

'You can't be sure, Harry,' Minerva said gently. 'If he was disguised as –'

'It started to fade,' Harry told them. 'I think it was Polyjuice Potion, or something quite similar. Just as I used the Portkey, he was changing back. His hair was lightening by degrees, and he was shrinking.' He turned his eyes to consider Severus. 'You and Black were almost the same height,' he noted, 'He was maybe a bit taller. And Black's hair was definitely as dark as yours.'

Severus frowned, his gaze boring into Harry's for a moment. Then he turned to Minerva.

'We need to know more,' he told her carefully.

'I don't know what else I can tell you,' Harry said. But Severus ignored him.

'We need to retrieve the memory,' he clarified, eyes still pinned with hers.

For the briefest of heartbeats, Minerva did not know what Severus meant by it.

Then realisation hit her, and she felt a hot swell of fury and fear.

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'No,' said Minerva firmly, her eyes flashing. 'Absolutely not, Severus. I forbid it!'

Severus scowled. 'It is not ideal,' he allowed. 'But it is our best option, and you know it. Potter should not be moved – by Portkey or otherwise – until the morning if it can be avoided. Even were we to decide to do so, Albus has the Pensieve with him in Prague: he mentioned more than once that he intended to bring it with him in order to allow the Brazilian delegation to share news of the Amazon discoveries last year.'

'What exactly –' Granger began to ask, but Severus quelled the query with a glare.

'Albus will need to be told immediately,' Minerva pointed out.

'I agree,' said Severus. 'But Potter is not in any imminent danger. Not anymore. There would be little point in dragging him home from the conference at this stage, and no possibility of obtaining the Pensieve without him. I would rather have all the facts, Minerva, before we contact the headmaster.'

Minerva was still frowning, but Severus could see he was winning the argument.

'I am not comfortable using Legilimency on a child of thirteen,' she said anxiously. 'Especially on Harry.'

'Legilimency?' Granger repeated, her own eyes widening in fear. 'You want to legilimise Harry?'

Severus rolled his eyes. 'I do not want to,' he contradicted. 'I must.'

'What the bloody hell is "Legilimency"?' Weasley asked mistrustfully. 'I don't like the sound of it.'

'Pipe down, Weasley,' Severus snapped. 'Before you lower the intelligence of the entire room. And mind your tongue, unless you'd like me to mind it for you.'

'Severus,' Minerva said in exasperation.

'It's mind magic, Ron,' Granger was explaining. 'Professor Snape wants to go into Harry's mind and see the memory for himself.'

Weasley looked nauseated. 'That's mental,' he said to Severus. 'You can't let him, professor!' he added, turning a pleading face to his Head of House.

'No,' said Potter softly from the bed, before Minerva could reply. 'Please don't, sir, I had such a headache the last time you –'

'The last time?!' Minerva repeated, her voice so shrill Severus was mildly surprised the windows had not cracked. 'What do you mean the last time? You have done this before, Severus?'

She still had her wand out, and Severus was momentarily afraid she would hex him.

'You know that performing Legilimency on students is strictly forbidden, Severus Snape!' she screeched. 'You could have seriously damaged his –'

'Relax, woman, he's fine,' Severus snapped impatiently. 'He asked me to help him retrieve a memory on the previous occasion; I was very clear about what that would entail.'

He held his tongue on the comment he longed to make regarding Potter's general psyche, in the interest of succeeding in his greater point. Potter looked like he might argue with Severus' glossed-over description of their last foray into Legilimency, but he kept quiet when Severus' eyes met his. It was difficult to tell whether the boy or Minerva were breathing more heavily.

'This is the only reasonable alternative, Minerva,' Severus emphasised. 'And we are running out of time.'

Minerva looked from Potter to the professor, doubt and anxiety plain on her face. 'V-very well,' she said at last, already seeming to regret the assent. 'But you will retrieve only the information relevant to tonight, Severus. And for Merlin's sake, please be careful.'

Severus nodded curtly, repositioning himself so he was seated on the edge of Potter's bed. He would have to do this a little differently this time; would have to proceed more gently.

'Look at me, Potter,' he said.

Reluctantly, the boy raised his eyes so they were locked with Severus'.

'I don't want it to hurt, sir,' he said quietly. Severus shook his head.

'If you listen very carefully to everything I tell you, it will not,' he promised. 'Clear your mind of everything, as you do before sleep. Focus on your chosen image for meditation, and let it relax your thoughts. You may close your eyes for this part, if you wish.'

Potter kept them open, and Severus could see him struggling with the instruction. He refrained from snapping in temper with great difficulty.

'Potter,' he said instead, in the gentlest voice he could muster. 'This will not work unless you trust me.'

'That's a bit hard to do, sir,' said Potter mulishly, 'Seeing as I thought I was trusting you tonight in the stadium… and then it turned out to be some nutter instead.'

Severus frowned. 'Understandable,' he said stiffly. 'But you must try, all the same.'

'Couldn't Minerva do it?' Potter whinged.

Severus was fast losing his grip on patience.

'No, Harry,' Minerva said gently, laying a hand on his arm. 'I am not nearly as studied in the mind arts as Professor Snape.'

Potter sighed, locking eyes with Snape once more.

'Don't go anywhere else in there,' he said darkly, but he shut his eyes at last.

'Good,' said Severus, biting down his retort again and trying to keep his own voice calm. 'Have you brought your meditation image to the front of your mind?'

'Yes,' Potter said, his breathing levelling out.

'Good,' Severus repeated. 'Focus on it; allow your mind to clear. I shall give you a few minutes to do so.'

They all sat in silence, Severus keeping an eye on his watch. Potter's breaths continued at a smooth, even rate, slowing further and further as the time passed. Severus stopped at three minutes: he did not want Potter asleep.

'Alright, Potter,' he continued, when the allotted time had passed. 'Now, I want you to slowly allow the image to change. In your mind's eye, you need to bring yourself back to the start of what happened tonight, to the moment you thought you met me, in the loo. Focus only on that moment, on that particular time. And, when you are ready, open your eyes and look at me.'

For a few seconds, Potter's eyes remained closed, a frown line appearing between his brows as he tried to follow Severus' direction. And then, at last, he opened them.

Severus locked his own gaze with the emerald eyes he knew so well.

'Legilimens' he said softly, pointing his wand at Potter's chest.

And he fell into their depths.

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'I still think it was Snape,' Ron said bitterly, a couple of hours later.

Snape had finished his invasion of Harry's mind hardly any better-informed than before it, as Harry had suspected would be the case. Then Minerva had insisted they all go to bed so they could leave on the morrow, and Snape had driven the others from the room with a glower before turning in himself for the night. Harry felt so full of potions and elixirs that he thought he might burst; but at least the last dose had eased some of the lingering ache in his muscles, and quelled the tremors in his limbs. Despite the exhaustion that weighed on him like an anvil, he found he was too anxious for sleep.

It had taken all of five minutes for Ron and Hermione to be sure the professors had gone to bed, before they'd snuck back in to theorise with Harry. He was glad they'd come. He could think of nothing else anyway.

'Oh, Ron, how could it possibly have been?' Hermione said in a hiss. 'When he was with us?'

'It could have been – no listen,' he said, holding up a hand as both Harry and Hermione moved to interrupt. 'I've worked it out, see. Snape might have taken Harry, then when he realised Harry'd used the portkey to get back, apparated himself back into the stadium to do a cover up. It'd be the perfect excuse, wouldn't it?'

'Ron, you couldn't apparate inside that stadium!' Hermione reminded him.

'Well, he could have apparated onto the grounds, like he disapparated out with Harry!' Ron retorted.

'And what, flew back up to the loos in the stands in about three minutes?' she said sarcastically. 'Honestly, Ron, you amaze me.'

'Well, then he made another portkey!'

'It wasn't Snape,' Harry said firmly. 'It just wasn't. I saw the bloke who took me begin to change back… and he definitely had a different wand. Plus, he used my name. Snape's never called me Harry in my life.'

'Yeah, but just say –'

'Oh, give it a rest, Ron!' Hermione snapped crossly. 'It can't always be Snape's fault.'

'Well maybe he was in with whoever it was,' Ron decided, changing course. 'I mean, they'd have had to get his hair somehow, wouldn't they?'

'There are a million ways that could have happened,' Hermione argued back. 'I don't think Snape had anything to do with it.'

'Yeah, I really doubt it,' Harry agreed. He was starting to feel woozy from the potions, and his head was aching again. He couldn't take much more of the row.

Hermione seemed to sense his discomfort. She looked apologetic as she studied his face.

'Oh Harry, you really don't look well you know,' she said sympathetically, brushing his fringe back with her fingers.

'I'm fine,' lied Harry. But the words were more automatic than remotely true. Neither Hermione nor Ron looked convinced.

'We should probably –' Hermione began, but she was interrupted as the door to the chamber was pushed ajar.

Snape stood on the threshold, a phial of deep violet potion in one hand and a deep emerald dressing gown tied round his waist. His face turned thunderous as he saw the crowd in the room.

'I believe I told you all to go to bed,' he said in a murderous whisper. 'I do hope I do not have to repeat myself.'

Ron and Hermione jumped off the mattress at once, looking terrified.

'Er – yes, professor,' Hermione squeaked. 'We just looked in to say goodnight.'

'Out,' the professor said, stepping in from the threshold and jerking his head toward the open door.

They scrambled to follow instruction at once, not meeting Snape's eyes.

'Get some rest, Harry,' Hermione said, kissing him swiftly on the cheek before making for the door.

'Yeah, feel better mate,' Ron said, shuffling off after Hermione. Snape watched them down the corridor with narrowed eyes, then shut the door to the room with a snap. He crossed his arms as he surveyed Harry on the bed. Harry braced himself for the lecture.

'You have been told several times of the effects of wandless magic,' Snape said, predictably. 'And you have experienced its aftermath for yourself. Combined with the ordeal –' he drawled the word – 'you have been through tonight, I would have thought even you would know better than to disobey me. I grow tired of playing nanny, Potter. I have much better things to do than to act your nursemaid.'

Harry squirmed. 'They were only in for a minute,' he protested. 'And it's not like I got out of bed. Anyway, why are you here? Why didn't you just have Minerva come, if you're so tired of me?'

'Do not play your petty excuses with me, and enough of your impertinence' Snape spat. Harry coloured, but he did not rise to the bait. Snape approached the bed. 'Professor McGonagall,' he said, emphasising the title just (Harry suspected) for spite, 'Is already asleep. Today took rather a lot of her energy as well.' Looking reluctant, he rested a long-fingered hand under Harry's fringe.

'I'm not feverish,' Harry protested.

'No,' Snape agreed. 'But you are taking Dreamless Sleep all the same.'

He held out the phial of violet potion. Harry crossed his arms.

'I have some questions,' he said bluntly.

'What a surprise,' Snape said sarcastically. 'You may ask Minerva in the morning. I'm sure she will not object.' He held out the potion again. But Harry refused to take it.

'They aren't for her,' he said stubbornly. 'And I'm not taking that until you answer them.'

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. 'I am even less inclined to acquiesce to your petulance when you use such an insolent tone, Potter. You will address me as sir or professor.'

'Yes, sir,' Harry amended.

Snape set the phial on the nightstand, crossing his own arms. 'Well?' he demanded. 'What fascinating theories are keeping you and your little friends up tonight?'

Harry steeled himself. He was pretty sure Snape wasn't going to be happy with him.

'Were you… were you a Death Eater, professor?'

Snape's gaze grew cold, almost closed off. Harry saw his knuckles tighten against his upper arms, turning white.

'Why,' Snape said softly. 'Would you ask such a question?'

'Ron said –'

'This is something Weasley concocted?' Snape spat derisively.

'No, sir,' Harry said, forcing himself to stay calm. 'It isn't. Ron only told me what Death Eaters were. I didn't know, before. But I remembered something when he said it. I remembered Sirius Black, and what he said about you.'

Snape looked murderous now. Harry was regretting ever asking the question.

'And what,' Snape hissed in a low voice, 'Did Black say about me?'

Harry swallowed. 'I'm not entirely sure,' he admitted. 'Because he was interrupted. But he was trying to tell me that you were evil, from the time you were at school. And I think he was saying you were a Death Eater.'

'You think,' Snape repeated, raising an eyebrow.

'Yes,' said Harry. 'He definitely said "He's a Death," but he was cut off before he finished.'

There was a beat of silence, while both wizards stared unrelentingly into each other's eyes. Harry could not tell if Snape was preparing to curse him or not.

'Black is a known criminal; a liar and a spy,' Snape said finally, in a dismissive tone. 'He betrayed dozens of people in service to the Dark Lord. People who thought they were his friends, and people who loved him.'

'He didn't sound like he was lying,' Harry mumbled, breaking eye contact at last.

'Black fooled even Albus Dumbledore into trusting him, Potter,' Snape said dismissively. 'I dare say he could fool a thirteen-year-old.'

'So it's not true then?' Harry challenged, glaring hard at Snape again. 'Black was lying? You're not a Death Eater?'

'I… am not in service to the Dark Lord,' said Snape tightly.

'Right,' said Harry. He felt relieved in spite of himself.

'But I should bear in mind,' Snape said, looking as though he were choosing the words very carefully. 'That if I were a Death Eater, I would have given you the same answer.'

Harry scowled. 'So what then?' he challenged irritably. 'Sir,' he amended at the flash of Snape's eyes. 'You're telling me not to trust you? After not two hours ago you told me I had to trust you?'

Snape rolled his eyes. 'You are dramatic as ever, Potter,' he mocked. 'And, as always, you miss the subtleties in your haste for black and white. Of course you will need to trust me. But I caution that trust, in the abstract, is a tenuous and dangerous gift. You should not bestow it easily, and you should count on it even less. Never trust where you cannot be sure, or you will pay the price for your folly. Trust can get you killed, boy. Trust nearly got you killed tonight. Foolish trust killed… many, when given to the wrong person.'

Harry frowned again. 'You're not making any sense,' he said in annoyance. 'You're talking me in circles.'

Snape's scowl increased. 'I would have thought you'd be used to such advice,' he mocked. 'Getting all of yours from the headmaster.'

'Albus talks in riddles sometimes,' Harry allowed. 'But I can generally work out his point.'

Snape snorted. 'If you believe so, Potter, then I suspect you are usually missing it.'

Harry could only glare his frustration. But it appeared Snape's patience for conversation had reached an end.

'Now, take the potion,' Snape insisted.

'You told me last term that you weren't supposed to take Dreamless Sleep if you had a head injury, sir,' Harry remembered.

'You do not have a head injury,' Snape pointed out.

'I might,' Harry challenged. 'I hit my head on the floor.'

Snape's eyes flashed again. 'Ms Vance was confident that you were not concussed,' he told him in a silky voice.

'What if she's wrong?'

'A risk I am more than willing to take, particularly if this insipid conversation continues,' said Snape through gritted teeth.

'I don't want it,' Harry whinged. 'It always makes me drowsy next day.'

Snape's temper flared immediately. 'I did not ask you if you wanted it, foolish brat,' he snarled. 'I am telling you that you will take it. You cannot afford nightmares tonight, and I cannot afford a tiresome journey tomorrow.'

He forced the phial into Harry's hand, not bothering to ladle it out.

'How much?' Harry asked in resignation, taking the phial at last from Snape's hand.

'All of it,' Snape said firmly.

Harry frowned – it was easily twice the dose he was usually forced to suffer.

'Now, Potter,'

Harry sighed, but he chugged the potion all the same. Instantaneously, the room began to shimmer around him, as he fell into darkness.

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Review Responses, Chapter 19:

Anyeshabaner: Thank you for your review! Yes, we will get both Albus and Severus's POVs on the situation (or have already, as you've probably read Chapter 20 now). I agree that sometimes these crises seem to humanise Severus to a certain degree, despite his rancour. As to the identity of the would-be kidnapper… well, I'll stay mum on that for now. As with our poisoner in the previous book, he/she is not to be forgotten. I hope you enjoy the continuation of our story!

TL-Deception: Thank you for reviewing! Very glad to hear you are enjoying the story, and hope you liked this latest update. I got it out as quickly as I could!

Mawenn35: Thanks for your review! I hope you enjoyed how everything played out.

Imortalglee: Thank you for reviewing again! And don't worry about it if they aren't every chapter – I completely understand hectic schedules! It is lovely to hear from you all the same, whenever it works out time-wise. In any case, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! The Harry/Snape death eater conversation is one I've been excitedly plotting for a while now… so I hope it is worth the anticipation. It certainly won't be the last we hear on the subject either, given revelations of later chapters and books. And don't worry about Albus; however it plays out with Sirius, he isn't going anywhere, promises.

LordTicky: Thank you for your review! Harry is definitely learning (albeit slowly, sometimes)… I'm glad you liked the bit where he realises something dangerous is going on. Hope you enjoyed how things unfolded… another mystery to add to the mix.

Psitomer: Thank you for reviewing! I won't tell you who it is for spoiler purposes… but I promise it's good (well, bad, but you know what I meant). You know by now (or you will at the end of the chapter) what Harry did to get away… but there are certainly repercussions all around. There are many ways to disguise oneself; Polyjuice Potion being the obvious choice, although it is unclear if that's what the imposter was utilising at this point. Ron certainly wasn't thinking very clearly, for someone who grew up in the Wizarding World and has used Polyjuice himself before… but then, he's a bit of a one-track mind sort of chap when it comes to Snape. Glad you liked the little glimpse of Emmeline: she's a character I always thought could be a little more fleshed out, and my in-my-head vision of her life seemed to fit here best.

I hazard to guess Snape would most definitely poison you if he ever heard you singing Mary Poppins in relation to him, but the reaction might be worth it! I'm not sure my Harry could play matchmaker for Snape… but I absolutely think a 'Post-Talk' Harry could have the 'he needs to get laid' opinion. :) McAllister: it's a little ambiguous here, but I envisioned Snape rolling his eyes at McGonagall's reaction to the Scottish Seeker more than bemoaning the Seeker herself (though of course there could be backstory there – I'll put a pin in it for now). I mostly thought she'd be a fun little character to incorporate, and perhaps we'll see her again! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Me (Guest review): Thank you for the review! I do apologise for the cliff-hanger ending… but I hope this chapter will satisfy some of your curiosity. As for the remainder of your questions: they are some that our characters have as well. We'll see how it all unfolds in future. Enjoy the continuation!

Valkyrie-Sythe: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so much! And I'm happy you liked the quidditch – I actually have found quidditch scenes the most difficult of all to compose; it's hard to capture the match and the excitement realistically. I can hardly blame JKR for sort of getting round quidditch when she could in later novels… but I wanted to include it all the ssame. I hope this chapter lives up to expectations! This book is going to have a lot of adventure.

AECM: Thank you for your review and well wishes! I hope you continue to like the story.

Dumbledores Girl: Thank you for reviewing, and very glad to hear you're enjoying the stories! As to the identity of Harry's kidnapper… my lips are sealed for the moment, but I think you'll like the way it plays out.

Babascoop: Thank you for your review! Good to hear from you, and happy you are enjoying the story's direction. We're slowly moving toward term, but it's been a jam-packed summer! Can't say at this moment who it is who abducted Harry… but it is a mystery which will occupy many peoples' thoughts in the aftermath. Well done you for catching the significance of the captor's final line last chapter; that was definitely intended for a clue. Glad you liked the quidditch too; matches are particularly tough to write, as I think I mentioned to another reviewer… but I thought it would be fun to show. I hope you liked the exploration of Harry's brief captivity.

And thank you for your well wishes. I like Edith, actually – it's traditional, but coming up in popularity again. I'll keep it in mind if it turns out I'm having girls. :)

Baelkaz: Thank you for reviewing! I know how you feel… ;). It is frustrating when Ron jumps to Snape at every opportunity, although it's definitely how Ron would react… if the books are anything to tell by. You'll see some similar behaviour here, but hopefully Harry can bring him round. Ron frustrates me a great deal in canon, but I can't help but love him anyway.

Blue Luver5000: Thank you for your review! Very glad you liked the chapter; especially the quidditch! As you've probably read in my responses above to a few other readers, I found the match particularly challenging to write… so it's lovely to hear people have enjoyed it. Hope you like the continuation!

Bubblea: Thank you for reviewing! It's lovely to hear that you like the story so much, and I really appreciate you sharing your thoughts! I hope the quick update will make up for the cliff-hanger ending somewhat. As to the relationship thing, don't worry – I have no immediate plans to put Harry and Hermione together. At this point, particularly to Harry, they really are brother and sister like in their relationship. And I enjoy them that way. I do sometimes ship Harry/Hermione… but I haven't made any determination as to where we'll end up pairing-wise, and Harry's ultimate pairing absolutely will not come into play for several years. I too dislike when authors decide he should be soul-bonded with someone as a child, or when relationships develop so quickly it's as if they are married at thirteen. This story definitely isn't focused on any sort of romance. Incidentally, never apologise for feeling a need to rant or rave – that's what reviews are for! :) I hope you enjoy where we go next.