3. Revealing Plans
A pair of glassy, bright green eyes sluggishly fluttered open. With slow movements the boy turned his head around, only to stop immediately when his vision began to blur and his head started to throb so painfully that it brought tears to his eyes and caused him to slowly yet carefully drop his head back on the soft pillow underneath him. Whatever it was that was causing him so much pain, it seemed to be better and more intelligent to just leave it be and to rest.
"Don't move, Potter!" A sharp and unwelcome voice thundered through the room. "You're gravely hurt and you won't get any better with your normal foolish and rash behaviour."
A loud, painful moan emitted from Harry's mouth and he pressed his eyes closed in desperation.
It just couldn't be.
He was hurt, he was weak, he was in pain and of all people to grace him with his presence – whether the man was truly intending to help him through whatever was causing him to feel this sick remained yet to be – it had to be Snape.
Snape who normally would be delighted to see him in any state of pain, humiliation or desperation and who would have to be severely encouraged to even think about helping him at all. His lucky star had to have vanished some time ago; there was just no other explanation for all the horrible things that continued to happen in his life.
With a sort of delusional or more likely suicidal feeling welling up inside of him Harry briefly considered visiting Professor Sinatra and asking her whether it was possible for a lucky star to be sucked into a super nova and disappear this way.
"Potter!" Snape's silky voice was strained and rough as it cut right into Harry's aching brain. "Cease your infernal twitching at once! Didn't you listen to me? I said you are gravely injured and being one of the few who possess some medical education in this Manor it was my hard work that kept you alive. So don't you dare ruin this now!"
Feeling too weak to even consider becoming angry because of his Potions Master's unfair accusations Harry decided it was time to open his eyes and face his surroundings. Slowly, as if he feared he might lose consciousness immediately if he opened his eyes too quickly, Harry sluggishly blinked his eyes open.
He couldn't suppress a painful groan when the severely dimmed light of the handful of candles floating in the air mercilessly hit his unprepared eyes. Blinking again Harry looked around the small room until his gaze fell on the only other person present next to his bed.
The Potions Master looked as ever, just like he had looked when the battle at Hogwarts' ground had broken loose. His skin was extremely pale, his hair black as the night, slightly greasy and falling into his eyes. His dark eyes scanned him critically and sternly over his crooked nose. The only thing different from how Harry knew his Professor were his clothes. Though still black, they weren't the ones the Potions Master wore at Hogwarts. Instead he was wearing the typical Death Eater attire. Once Harry's brain belatedly noticed and realized this, it sent cold shivers of discomfort and slight fear down Harry's spine.
Snape noticed, bastard that he was, and sneered. "Well, Potter, how do you feel?"
A hoarse and painful sounding laugh escaped from the boy's thin lips causing him to cough. Well, at least the Professor had asked. The Snape Harry remembered would have just ignored it and acted like nothing was wrong, just like he normally would have done.
Something must have changed, Harry's mind supplied idly, something must have forced his Professor to act more civil around him. One could almost regard Snape's behaviour as being nice to Harry. The mere thought caused Harry's inside to churn with fear.
Whatever it had been that had caused Snape to change his behaviour so drastically towards him, it must have been more powerful than Dumbledore as the old man had failed several times to bring Snape to change his actions and tones.
Feeling that even though the man had been a bastard to him, his question nonetheless deserved an answer, Harry swallowed painfully and tried to wet his dry lips. "I feel like shit to be honest, Sir." Harry rasped.
A small, but dark smile crept over the Potions Master's pale features and Harry almost felt like weeping with relief. Snape hadn't been possessed and no one was trying to imitate him. He was still his sadistic bastard self.
Slowly the man stepped forward and moved in a way that Harry was able to see his every movement. Finally he stopped beside Harry's bed. Without saying anything Snape fetched his wand from the pocket of his robes, turned it between his fingers in indecision and then sharply waved it over the boy's body. The sudden movement caused Harry to flinch, which was then followed by a low groan of pain.
Whatever Snape must have done and whatever it was the wand was showing him, it seemed to displease the Professor greatly as the dark smile vanished only to be replaced by a stern and hard look.
Snape scowled at him. "This I can see clearly, Potter. You shouldn't move." Snape advised him absentmindedly, his eyes still trained on Harry's frail body. "Your body and health, well, what remains of it aren't in any condition to be aggravated any further."
Thinking that nodding would only increase the pain and that speaking would only hurt his throat, Harry decided to remain silent and try to convey to his Potions Master through his eyes that he was thinking along the same lines. Slowly his still slightly dizzy mind was starting to wake up further.
With a jolt of fear and suspicion Harry tried to observe his surroundings. To his utter surprise and confusion he was in a small, but nice room. There were two doors, one at the other side of the room, the other to his right. To his left there was a big, semi-circular window. The curtains were closed so he wasn't able to tell whether it was morning or evening. A wardrobe and a chest of drawers were occupying the wall opposite of him. In the far corner next to the window. A small shelf that was currently empty was placed next to the armchair and within comfortable reaching-distance of the chair. All in all, it was a really nice room, Harry had to admit.
Trying to focus his gaze on his Professor, Harry licked his lips in indecision, not knowing how to catch the sour man's attention. "Sir, where am I?" He asked, his voice layered with more fear and helplessness than Harry cared to admit.
The stern Potions Master must have expected his question as he only sighed and then with a swift motion of his wand conjured a nice armchair next to the bed Harry was lying in. With another sigh Snape let himself sink down on the chair, his hands resting on his legs and his wand loosely entwined between his long, delicate fingers.
He had to be pondering what to tell him, Harry realized when he noticed the unusual faraway look on his teacher's face and suddenly Harry grew restless. He suddenly knew with a strange assuredness that he wouldn't like what Snape was going to tell him. No, he wouldn't like it at all.
Snape cleared his throat softly and brought Harry's attention to him. "Potter, whatever I'm going to tell you, don't freak out and don't do anything stupid like trying to run away." His Professor implored and if Harry wasn't nervous before, he sure as hell was now. "It won't do you and me any good. Understood, Potter?"
The nearly black eyes locked with the glassy, bright green ones. It was as if Snape was trying to look into his soul, Harry thought detachedly. Not knowing what else to do, Harry nodded carefully never breaking the eye contact. Snape spent a few more moments Snape prying into his mind before he finally decided to let it be.
Breaking the eye contact Snape left Harry with an inhuman headache and slightly panting. Whatever Snape was going to tell him, Harry wouldn't freak out or try to run away. He wouldn't even need to swear an unbreakable vow. Harry was too weak to even try anything.
"You are at Slytherin Manor, Potter." Snape finally decided to inform him. He folded his hands in his lap and regarded Harry with dark, emotionless eyes in his unreadable face. "I don't know whether you remember this, but the Dark Lord's followers attacked Hogwarts. A fierce battle ensued between the Order and the Death Eaters. You, just like your friends, were fighting bravely, I have to admit."
A wry smile appeared on Snape's lips and Harry must be going crazy for he would have sworn he heard Snape chuckle. "You even managed to curse and stun some of the lower Death Eaters."
Shaking his head at whatever seemed to be on Snape's mind, the Potions Master suddenly became dead serious. "However, before you could defend yourself and your friends properly, a Death Eater stunned you. You were collected by one of us and diverged from the battle field. The moment the two of you had vanished, the rest of us disapparated away following behind the two of you."
Looking paler than before Harry's green eyes darted through the room restlessly. He remembered, oh, he clearly and vividly remembered any detail, but he dearly wished he didn't.
Snape regarded him intently, but he must have come to the conclusion that Harry's current restlessness wasn't to damaging to his health so far. "The Dark Lord told us to obtain you and to bring you to his Manor as uninjured and healthy as possible."
The Professor looked indifferent as he tilted his head to the side. "You see, Potter, not a single curse or hex has hit you during the battle. And still you are in a terrible shape."
He closed his eyes briefly and sighed wearily. "When we arrived at the Manor, the Dark Lord ordered us to leave you alone, to let you rest in peace. Being one of the few to possess magical healing abilities in the Dark Lord's ranks, I was appointed as your personal Healer and ordered to ensure your health at all costs. That is why you are here, Potter." Snape leaned forward as he needlessly stressed his words. "The Dark Lord wishes for you to get better."
Huge, wide open, green eyes stared at Snape in disbelief and fear. The boy's cheeks had grown even paler and now had more than slightly sick shade to them. His thin and fragile form was shaking and trembling lightly and his thin fingers were clutching the covers to his chest firmly, as if this would help him out of this situation.
"No." The boy whispered weakly, his voice nothing more than a painful rasp.
"No, this can't be. I won't have to stay here. The Order will come and get me, they will save me; it can't be any different."
Severus shook his head slightly in obvious pity. He had hoped Potter would just leave it be and accept it. But to be honest, how could he have even hoped for it? He should have known better.
Nonetheless, he had to try and make the boy see reason. "Potter, I hate to break the news to you, but the Order won't come for you." He told the trembling boy the harsh truth. "Since Dumbledore's death the Order hasn't had a leader. They run around headless and aimless trying to do what would be best for our world in their opinion, but they lack the experience and the knowledge to pull it through."
Severus sighed and shook his head. He had seen it for himself. It was a real disaster. "Many Order members were injured during this battle, some of them killed. And even though they saw you being kidnapped, none of them even knows where to search for you. And even if they could, they wouldn't be able to organize a good working rescue plan. Face it, Potter, the Order won't be able to help you this time."
Severus almost started to hate himself for doing this to the boy. It was one thing to humiliate and embarrass him when Potter was able to give as good as he got. But it was another thing to take all his hope away from him when it was the last thing to keep him sane and going. But Severus had to do it, the Dark Lord had ordered him to. This was his mission and he had to accomplish his task.
Potter shook his head slightly, his eyes wild with denial. "No." He muttered weakly, his voice barely audible. "My friends- My friends will come and search for me- They will, I know it."
Severus was just about to open his mouth and tell the boy that no child at the age of seventeen could probably break through the wards and security spells placed around Slytherin Manor, when a loud whimper prevented him from doing so. With slight horror Severus had to watch as Potter suddenly burst into tears, heart-breaking sobs wrecking his fragile body. His hands were clenched so firmly into the blanket his knuckles started to turn white.
"No-o, they wo-on't come." Harry was hiccupping badly shaking his frame with each harsh breath he took. "They are dead, all dead. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, they are all dead. Killed in the battle. They won't come for me; they will never be there for me again."
The sobbing was heart-breaking. Slowly the blanket was soaked through with Harry's salty tears, but still there seemed to be no end to it. Cursing himself for bring up this topic Severus hesitantly placed his hand on the boy's back and awkwardly started to rub small circles.
He couldn't help himself but he was honestly happy that those there children were dead. No, not happy, that would be too much even for him. It was just with those three dead; he would be able to fulfil his mission easier and therefore might live through this week without being cursed too much.
"I'm sorry Potter." Severus tried in vain to portray the sorrow he didn't feel. "Losing friends is always hard. It wasn't the Dark Lord's plan to kill them, no, certainly not. He wanted to spare them. His main reason for attacking Hogwarts was getting you and riling up the Order. He didn't plan for wizarding children to lose their lives."
Severus sighed and dearly wanted to hide himself in a bottle of fire-whiskey. "I'm sorry that I have to say this, but your friends were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. There was no chance they would have been able to defend themselves. I'm really sorry, Potter, but there would have been nothing you could have done to save them."
The sobbing only increased. As he wasn't able to digest all this information anymore Harry snuggled himself deeper into the blankets and cushions. While Harry cried out his grief over his friends, Severus stayed next to his bed never stopping the circling motions on back of the boy's hand.
It was only too understandable that Potter would react this way. Nobody would be able to accept their friends' death knowing that it didn't have to be, that it was completely unnecessary. Moments flew by and slowly but surely the boy's sobbing ceased. After what felt like eternity the boy was finally able to breathe normally again with only occasionally a tear running down his flushed cheeks.
Okay, step one accomplished. Now, off to the funny part. "Potter, I have to ask you one question. Just one single question. But please answer with all your honesty." Severus implored his dark eyes boring into Potter's. "It's of utmost importance that you do so, understood? Okay? Good." Severus took a deep breath and tried to calm his frayed nerves. "Potter, when did you start feeling ill?"
A thoughtful look crossed the boy's teary features. His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes were red rimmed and swollen and his lips open and bloody where his teeth had bitten into them. The emerald green eyes, however, were currently looking absent as if the boy was trying hard to remember. His head was tilted to the side making his untameable hair fall lightly into his eyes. He looked so fragile, Severus suddenly realized, as if the softest wind blow could make him break.
Finally, Potter shrugged helplessly. "It started a while ago. While I was at my relatives' home. First I thought that it was due to all the stress I suffered the last year with Sirius' and Dumbledore's death, the Ministry proclaiming me insane and attention seeking and the increasing attacks, I just thought it had become too much for me. And my relatives treating me like dirt didn't help at all." Potter confessed embarrassedly and Severus didn't need to remember their abyssal Occlumency lessons to have a vague idea what the boy might mean.
Potter looked lost as he continued his tail, unaware of his Professor's thoughts. "But when I returned to Hogwarts, nothing changed. I still felt weak; I still suffered from nightmares, panic attacks and sometimes I would just collapse."
His eyes became teary but Potter merely swallowed convulsively. "My friends started to worry. They were thinking it had finally become too much for me and that I would finally break. But that wasn't the reason for my state of health." Potter's hands turned to fists and his eyes grew defiant, defensive. "I wanted to get better! I wanted to be able to play Quidditch again, to feel stronger. But it just wouldn't work."
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Severus had been listening intently when the boy had described how his state of health had deteriorated over the course of months. Why he hadn't consulted Pomfrey or hadn't talked with his Head of House about his problem was a mystery in Severus' mind. Thankfully he hadn't, otherwise his mission might have been even more difficult to fulfil.
"Sometimes" The boy's low and hollow voice broke him free from his thoughts.
His eyes were trained on the blanket covering his body. However, suddenly Potter raised his eyes and looked directly into Severus' with his dead gaze.
"Sometimes I think I am going die." Potter muttered softly. "It's true, isn't it? I am going to die soon?"
Severus sighed. Oh, how he hated to do such things. He wasn't meant to have conversations about such delicate and emotional topics. Trying to give his voice a neutral tone Severus answered the one important question.
"I will be honest to you, Potter. Yes, you will die soon, within the next few days, if we don't do something about this." He paused and looked at the boy. Potter didn't look half as worried as someone should in his position. It was disturbing.
"I don't think you know what is happening to you, your mind and your body; therefore I shall explain it to you. It will be shocking and most horrible to you, therefore I wish for you to remain calm and collected." Severus could stress the importance of calmness any more. "Every bit of stress placed on your system would only aggravate your state of health and shorten your lifespan."
Seeing the boy nod in apprehension Severus continued thinking wisely about every word he chose.
"Nobody saw this coming." Severus confessed unabashedly. "Not even Dumbledore. Be assured, Potter, had he known, he would have told you."
Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. "I will start at the beginning, as I don't know how much Dumbledore has explained to you. You two were searching for a locket, one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes in a cave when the Headmaster came back poisoned. Therefore I think you know what a horcrux is?"
Seeing the boy nod softly, Severus felt relieved. "That's good. Dumbledore surely informed you that the Dark Lord made several of them, six in total. What the Headmaster didn't know was that the Dark Lord didn't create six but seven horcruxes."
Potter's eyes were wide and incredulous, but he was quiet and that was more than Severus could have hoped for. "However, the seventh one wasn't intended. Tin the night the Dark Lord attacked your parents' home, killed your parents and tried to kill you, the killing curse bounced back to him causing him to lose a piece of his soul in the process."
Severus regarded the boy intently. Potter looked as if he had a presentiment what Severus was going to say next but seemed to cling to the futile hope that he wouldn't. "This piece of soul split up from the rest of his soul was trying to repair itself again. As it was impossible for the Dark Lord's soul to grow back together, the piece of soul took the next best open and wounded soul it could find and rested there, thus forming a new horcrux in the process."
There was a deadly silence and a pair of fearful and horrific, wide open, green eyes stared at him.
"I'm sorry, Potter, but piece of the Dark Lord's soul rests within your soul. You're the seventh horcrux the Dark Lord made."
Severus thought it best to give the boy some time to digest all the information he had gained during the last few minutes. It wasn't every day that someone told you that not only was a piece of your worst enemy's soul resting inside your soul, but that you were going to die soon, too. To his surprise, the boy took it fairly well, much better than he had imagined him to do. Only the deathly pale skin, his panicky wide eyes and the slight trembling of his hands were signs for his obvious distress.
Severus took another deep breath before he continued his tale. "Now, Potter, this is where your problems starts. Nobody has ever heard before of a human horcrux and therefore no one knew what to expect. The piece of soul itself wouldn't be a problem at all."
At Potter's incredulous stare Severus could only roll his eyes and huff. "Of course, it might feel strange and you would have severe headaches due to your connection with the Dark Lord. It would be uncomfortable, but it wouldn't be lethal." Severus emphasized.
"No, the problem is that the Dark Lord's piece of soul contains part of his magic and magical signature as he had been throwing the most powerful curse known to humans at you mere moments before. This magic and magical signature resides now inside you."
Bringing his hand to his head Severus whipped away a stubborn strand of his hair. Oh, this was going to be fun, he thought sarcastically.
"Your magic is powerful, truly powerful, light magic. It runs through your blood as it ran through your parents' and grandparents' blood before." Seeing the boy nod in understanding Severus felt pleased. At least he understood the concept of hereditary magical potential.
"The Dark Lord's magic, however, is not only powerful but of the darkest magic to ever grace the planet. This magic is slowly but steadily spreading through your blood and body, mixing and contaminating your own magic, causing you great distress in the process."
Severus clasped his hands in his laps and stared intently into the boy's eyes. Potter was listening with a rapt fascination never once witnessed before in class. Figures the boy would need to be on death's door to develop a thirst for knowledge.
Shoving the unhelpful thought out of his mind, Severus concentrated on his lecture. "A body has one magical signature it can live with. Your cells and genes accommodate so that they can work with your magic. When your magic changes, like it does at the moment, your body will be unable to work with it."
He raised his eyes and directed his fierce gaze directly into the boy's eyes. It was important that the boy understood what he was about to say, it was crucial for all of them.
"The Dark Lord's magic is more powerful than your magic." Raising his hand to quell the indignant spluttering he knew was about to spill from Potter's mouth, Severus teared along. "He is older, more experienced and his magic fiercer. Your magic will stand no chance."
Severus leaned back his eyes taking in Potter's fragile form "Your body is currently fighting this magic and only working due to the small amounts of your light magic still running through your body. But soon it won't be enough and your body will shut down."
Severus' face was impassive, but his voice grew fierce and cold. "You will die a horrific, most cruel and painful death, Potter. Know this, it won't be pleasant. You will long and pray for your death, but it won't come soon enough."
Severus almost started to hate himself for all the pain and distress he was causing the boy. But he had no other choice, it had to be done.
He sighed and tried to at least apologetic. "There is only one way to prevent this, Potter. However, this decision will entail grave consequences. Therefore you have to be absolutely willing to pull it through. Otherwise it will kill you."
The boy was at a loss, Severus could clearly see it. His hands were still shaking, his lips were trembling and yet again tears were running down his cheeks. He bit his lip quite forcefully even drawing blood in the process, but he didn't seem to realize.
Potter seemed to notice nothing around him. The boy's faraway look in his wide open eyes indicated his mind had nearly shut down to progress and rethink all the information he had been offered. Preparing himself for a long time of silence Severus leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes to relax a bit more.
"I will do it." The boy's harsh voice rasped in the silent room and nearly caused Severus to jump.
Potter looked pale and fragile, but his eyes shone with determination and his jaw was firmly set. "I-I will do it" He repeated, stronger than before and his insistence almost caused Severus to raise an eyebrow mockingly. "Whatever it is, I will do it. I don't want to die. I want to live, live a life that is worth living. No more fear, no more pain, no more betrayal and no more death."
His eyes grew wide and stared imploringly into Severus', almost causing the Professor to squirm in his chair. "Please, Sir, promise me that this life would be worth living and I shall do everything required of me. I can't fight anymore. I don't want to fight anymore."
His voice had grown more desperate from word to word the boy had spoken and grudgingly Severus had to confess that he was truly impressed. The boy's life must have been horrible if he wanted to go through all this only to have a chance at living. It made him wonder whether he had misjudged the boy that gravely throughout all this years.
Potter seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Please, Sir, I can't do any of this anymore. I just want to live."
The boy was looking so fragile yet at the same time looking so determined to do what he had said, it sent shivers down the Potions Master's spine. Nodding in approval Severus thanked the gods for what seemed to be the first time in his life that everything was going according to his plan. He would fulfil his mission and please his Lord incredibly in doing so.
But first he had one last question to ask. "Have you thought about the consequences, Potter? What would your family and friends say?"
It was a dangerous question to ask but it was important to Severus to know. The boy would have to go through this once he had started the process. There would be no turning back even if he might have second thoughts. It just wouldn't be possible.
It was better to let him rethink his decision now several times until he was sure that he truly wanted to do this. That was why he had asked this question.
Severus had expected the boy to grow silent, teary and lonely. But he certainly hadn't expected him to laugh harshly.
"My friends and family are dead, Sir." Potter uttered harshly. "My parents, Sirius, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and even Dumbledore have all been killed."
Potter took a deep breath trying to calm his nerves. "They might be dead, Sir, but they would want me happy. It was what they have told me constantly during the last years. And they told me not to care for other people's opinions."
The boy tried to square his shoulders and only managed to look utterly ridiculously in his attempt. Although Severus would appoint him point for trying. "And that is what I'm going to do." Potter continued oblivious to his Professor's thoughts. "I don't care what the rest of the world might say about my decision. I can't fight anymore and I don't have the power. I want to live."
Potter's eyes grew soft and watery as he regarded his Professor with a misty gaze. "My friends and family would be happy, Sir, and they would support my decision, whatever it will be I have to do."
Severus nodded in approval, a small, nearly unnoticeable smile gracing his normally stoic and cold features. That was what he had wanted to hear. The boy was finally growing up leaving behind the expectations of the wizarding world, only listening to his inner desires and his families' and friends' wishes for his future. This was something he could work with. The boy would be able to make it.
Praise the gods, the Dark Lord would be so pleased.
Severus's lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. "That is what I wanted to hear, Potter. Nothing more and nothing less. It pleases me to no ends, I can tell you that."
Severus straightened up his chair and came back to business as usual. They would have to hurry up. The boy was dying; he could see it with every passing minute. If they didn't hurry up, everything might be too late and wasted. Looking directly into the boy's green eyes Severus asked himself for the hundredth time why the boy had to be blessed with Lily's eyes. It made things always so difficult for him.
"Your only chance of surviving this whole mess is a blood adoption potion and a strong spell vanishing all of your former genes, magical signature and DNA." Severus stated bluntly "You would be adopted by the Dark Lord. This potion would make you his heir in everything through his blood, Potter."
Smiling sardonically at the slightly shell shocked boy, Severus continued.
"You finally understand why I told you there would be no turning back."