Authors Notes: Thank you for the kind reviews. First of to Sakura. The original version is absolutely terrible. The plot is non-existant just a jumble of fanfiction cliches, the grammar is useless and the characterization is non-existent. I'd been too embarrassed to upload it again. However if people did want to see it I would think about it.
Secondly to Trenchcoatman. I understand your point completely. This story is mainly written from Trowa's POV with other's thrown in here and there. I am wanting to show how naive Trowa is when facing someone different from himself. Don't Worry quatre shows just how tough he is later on.
Thirdly: This chapter is written in the POV of Severus Snape. I really have to come to love him so here he is. Its a short chapter explaining what happened and the relationship between the two and it's needed further on down the line.
Enjoy. Again thank you to everyone i'm glad you're enjoying this new version.
Chapter 4
Severus Snape was nervous. He was not used to the feeling, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't like it. Severus had always been so sure of everything. His abilities, his status in life and in how the world worked. There had never been a need for him to be nervous. He had, of course, felt fear. A terror that had gripped his heart in its cold and clammy grip, but not this strange feeling of his heart beating, the blood rushing to his ears, hands sweating and tingling as the adrenaline hit him.
Nerves. Why did humans suffer from them?
Severus knew what was causing the nerves, the answer was obvious. Harry Potter. The boy would be returning, and Severus hoped with every fibre of his being that the spell, and him risking his neck every time he lied to both of his masters, had been worth it. He prayed that the spell had done what it had meant to do. That Harry Potter had found a host that was dark enough, cruel enough, to face The Dark Lord. The Dark Arts were needed to end this dark period, for the light side to have chance and for them to win, they needed Harry Potter.
He seriously doubted it that the spell would have worked that perfectly. Life was never so neat.
Severus was sure that Harry Potter's soul was so pure that no matter how dark and dirty the host was, no matter what the other had done, the purity of Potter's soul would cleanse it and as such made the plan, the hard work and emotional turmoil completely useless. That had been one of the concerns he had had when Potter had arrived at his door asking for help. Even at the age of sixteen, Potter had been much more astute that anybody had given him credit for, Severus included. Severus had mentally slapped himself at not being able to realise how good at hiding his emotions Potter had been. It was his job to realise the truth without anyone saying. Severus had been slightly impressed, but, would not admit that for pain or money.
Potter had been aware that the only way to win this damn war was to fight fire with fire, or so the muggle saying went. The Dark Arts were needed and after Potter had tried casting the cruciatus on Bellatrix and had failed miserably he had realised that something needed to be done. He had wondered why he hadn't been able to cast it and had done his research.
It was common knowledge to dark wizards like himself, but Potter had not been raised within a dark family. Like how wands had certain cores that suited certain types of magic; it was the same with the witch or the wizard. Each wizard felt a certain affinity towards certain types of magic. Be it because of genetics, lifestyle or personality. Harry Potter's family had been a pure light family, his upbringing whilst being intolerable with abuse had not damaged him too bad and gaining friends and a family in the Weasleys had kept Harry Potter in the light. By the age he had hit his puberty it had been set. There was no way to change it and Potter had bemoaned that fact. Dark magic drew from dark emotions, hatred, disgust, blood lust. It became more powerful the darker the emotions and whilst Potter had been a moody teenager he still believed in love, he still had hope that crushed every tiny bit of darkness that lay within his core and his heart. Poetic really. It was upon gaining this knowledge that Potter must have felt incredibly defeated, that was the only reason Severus could think of that would make the boy swallow his pride and ask his most hated professor for help.
At first Severus had sneered, had mocked the boy but he had been tenacious. The teen had continued to return no matter the insults thrown in his face, the snide remarks about his upbringing, about the mangy mutt who had gotten himself killed and even the disgusting and humiliating detentions that he had set the boy. None of it had worked. Potter had continuously returned. The moment that Severus had realised Potter was honest, that he really needed his help was when Potter had tried casting the imperio on him. It had been laughable, the imperio had never worked on Severus and there had been no pull in the slightest but it showed that Potter was set on what he wanted. Potter would risk the wrath of the ministry for his help. Severus Snape's help.
It had been mind boggling.
The desperation in his voice had shook Severus and when the boy had explained that he had not even gone to Dumbledore, that his two followers did not know what he was planning, Severus had come to a conclusion. This boy had come to him. The saviour of the Wizarding world was coming to the greasy git, the spy, Voldemort's left hand for help. His ego had almost burst.
They had searched for months. No spell had came to close to what they were wanted and needed. Severus had done a stupid thing and decided to look in Voldemort's library. There he had found the spell. An incredibly dark spell that would need Severus to help more than he would have liked. It was a spell that only had a 50% chance of survival. Potter hadn't even balked at the thought. He had explained calmly that he was guaranteed a death sentence if he didn't change, if he didn't try. Severus had found himself disgustingly impressed. In the weeks leading up to the final act, Potter did as he was told. He put on an angry and hateful mask, distanced himself from his friends and became public enemy number one with his dorm mates because of his so called attitude problem.
Potter had let out his frustration in Severus' rooms on more then one occasion. Even after he had told him he was not there to be his mentor or his mind wizard. Potter had continued, selective hearing. Severus did not want to admit it, but the more time they spent together the more he noticed the power behind the boy and why people were drawn to him. He never said so out loud of course but he started to like Potter. Maybe he had been cursed. Maybe Potter was actually incredibly dark and had cast imperio on him. He could hope that was the case.
The day had come. Potter had sat himself in the bath, unashamed about his nudity and had looked towards Severus who was holding a rusty dagger towards him. Severus had felt fear then. What if it didn't work? What if the dark magic reacted badly with the purity of his soul. He had shaken his head inwardly, when had he ever doubted his own research and his own power. Never, so he wasn't about to start now.
"You know what to do?"
"I know professor. It's not that difficult to kill myself even though Voldemort has always seemed to have trouble doing it," Potter's voice had been soft, a laugh softening his young face that had been looking drawn and scared for a while now.
"Do not say his name." It was an automatic reaction. "If you would like to back out no one would think any less of you."
"I would think less of myself Professor. I need to do this otherwise we all might as well kill ourselves now."
Severus had nodded. Killing himself would darken Potter's soul ready to enter the dark host he would be going to. Taking a deep breath Severus looked at Potter who smiled and grabbing the dagger ripped it across his wrists. It had been quick and deep, copper rust clinging to the ragged edges of his wounds. The blood had poured out into the bath quite quickly and Potter's eyes had drooped. Severus waved his wand, chanting the magic. He felt nothing.
"Thank you." It was soft, barely audible but Severus nodded in response.
One moment Potter was smiling at him, the next he was gone. There had been no white light or any form of magical atmosphere. The smile had left Potter's face as his jaw dropped, his eyes staring beyond him, his arms straight and already starting to go rigid as his fingers curled. Harry Potter was dead. For that moment Severus Snape could not move. He just stared at the boy he had watched kill himself. The son of the woman he had loved and had felt grief once more. He couldn't save them. Severus hoped the spell had worked but the only way he would know was when Potter's soul found its host. His wand would vibrate and burn him. The spell would have been successful.
"Safe journey Harry Potter," Severus whispered before cleansing the area of his magical signature. Everything was wiped down. Potter's wand sitting beside him where his spectacles were. Taking one last look at the lifeless youth he had turned and walked out of the room.
He had been sitting in his rooms, a book in his hand but not reading it when Dumbledore had called for him in a panic. He was crying out that Harry Potter was dead, he had killed himself. Severus had taken a deep breath, pulled his mask on of an indifferent spectator, of the man who hated the Potter boy and went to him. By now the boy was curled, his skin like paper and jaw at an odd angle. The water was red but the body did not look like Potter. Severus couldn't explain it but he just knew this wasn't Potter that this was just a vessel left behind. He hoped and was certain the spell had worked.
As he confirmed Potter's death, as the two little morons that followed Potter blindly screamed hysterically and cried about how this couldn't be, as the story spread, Severus felt he was pulled in so many directions. Although he knew the truth it was hard watching his beloved mentor Dumbledore suffer, fade into himself and become a bitter shell, he hated going to Voldemort to deliver the news and feel his glee that the boy had done what he done.
A week had passed and the story was in the Prophet. Harry Potter was classed as a traitor for leaving them, the stupid moronic public, to face Voldemort. His name was spat out in disgust and even his friends, whilst going to his memorial, had felt betrayed. The boy was lucky to have been gone. It had been after a long spot of muggle torture with Voldemort when he had felt his wand burn and vibrate in his hand. Relief had rushed through him. The spell had worked.
The following months were the darkest in wizarding history. The war had reached Hogwarts. Dumbledore was defeated, the death of the young hero had taken his fight out of him and so it had been all too easy for Voldemort along with Severus' help to defeat him and send him and all of the blood traitors running. Although it had been part of the plan, although Dumbledore knew what Severus would have to do, it hadn't made it any easier watching the man who was his mentor and his friend flee in disgrace, the Death Eaters laughing snidely and making rude comments. Severus matched them with even crueller remarks. He had a reputation to uphold. His mask would never drop. Severus Snape was the best for a reason.
The war had been over as soon as Hogwarts fell. It had seemed that the moronic and cowardly wizarding population liked to keep one person as their figurehead, who controlled whether they fight or roll over and take it. After the boy who lived betrayed them, they turned to Dumbledore, when he too was beaten they were resigned to their fate and stopped fighting. It sickened Severus and he did not need to fake any feelings of disgust he had towards the general population. Voldemort had just laughed and started his 'cleansing' as he classed it.
Muggleborns were still allowed to study at Hogwarts, Voldemort understood that they had power but they were treated like second class citizens. They were not taught anything that would make them over power their new masters. The Purebloods. They were taught spells befitting of their new status. Cleaning and housekeeping spells. Some had complained, stating they deserved their freedom.
Severus had swiftly broken their wands and thrown them to the wolves. That was what Severus called Draco Malfoy and his crew of prefects. They would beat the students within an inch of their lives, and would leave them in the chamber of secrets. Voldemort had opened it for this reason, for any malcontent to be left there to starve and die. All revolt was swiftly squashed. Voldemort no longer came to Hogwarts, there was no need. Severus didn't mind one bit, it made it slightly easier to breathe when he only had the pretentious little upstarts watching his every move. He knew how to handle the children, this was his job. It was when Lucius came that Severus truly had to watch himself. That man had it in for him.
Everything had become monotonous. A routine that Severus despised. Each day rolled into the other bringing a bone achingly familiar feeling as he would open his eyes roll out of bed and see Potter's wand on his mantelpiece. Severus had stolen it so that it could be used or broken. He knew what he had to do, he knew when he would have to do it and when the time came, he had rushed to Dumbledore.
Severus did not mention his own involvement. Instead he spun a story stating that Voldemort had done it all. He had wanted Harry Potter out of the way and his name to be like mud to the wizards. To crush all fighting spirit. He had not realised the spell he had used but Severus had. Dumbledore had looked at Severus in wide eyed wonder and had hugged him. He had stiffened. His personal space was a much farther distance than most people and he didn't like when others invaded it including an old man that had once smelt of sherbet lemons but now smelt of decay and moth balls. It was not hard for him to lie. He had been lying to the old man all of his life, it was in his own interest to lie and it came easier to him then telling the truth. Handing Dumbledore the list of ingredients, the spell and step by step instructions on bringing the boy back, Severus had turned to leave.
"He shall not be the same boy he was Albus. He will be darker, he will crueller and he will be the one to defeat Voldemort but you will have to earn his trust."
"I know Severus I am just thankful that he is alive, that there is some hope."
"Your only hope is on a stranger who may or may not remember his past life. A stranger who might agree with Voldemort. Albus be smart, Voldemort does not know about this so trust only those who you would trust with your own life."
"I trusted you."
Severus had frozen. That had been quite cruel but he nodded in acceptance. That was true. Albus had trusted him, to bring more information on how to defeat Voldemort but in the last year Severus had not seen Albus once. He had not been able to face his own shame and guilt every time he looked into the aging man's face. It was easier just being on Voldemort's side.
"Goodbye Albus."
"Goodbye Severus."
They had said their goodbyes. As Severus returned to his place as Hogwarts headmaster, as he was once more torturing muggles and blood traitors, as he sneered and made children cry he tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that wondered who was the boy that would be brought back. Would he be as tenacious as Potter? Would this have all been worth something? He smothered the voice and instead strengthened his resolve. He became even more frightening until he had received the little note.
"I'm back. Thank you Severus."
That was all. The hand writing was unfamiliar but there was only one person it could have been from. As he crumpled the letter in his fist, unwilling and unable to burn the offending item his heart raced. Damn that potter had making him nervous. Damn him back to hell.
