Well, we obviously didn't make our deadline. Around these parts, DH is being released...right now, actually. :P We still have six chapters to go after this one, but we're guessing that even this one won't be read by most of you until after you've finished DH. So...we'd just like to say that everything we've written and are planning to write was outlined before DH came out. If anything we write in later chapters coincides with the plot of DH, we swear on Merlin's white beard that we did not take it from the book.
Anyway.
Shades of Gray – "You were always so simple, Potter. The lot of you. Your father, your mother, even Dumbledore. You see the world as black and white. Good and evil. But nothing in the world is like that. It's all gray. Just different shades of gray."
"So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted…I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…" – Tom Riddle, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
It felt like the world as he knew it was coming to an end. Caught in the center of the whirlwind, he could only crouch down low to the ground and cover his head with his hands. He didn't know what was happening or how to stop it. The two spells had connected as he had anticipated, and a golden dome of magic had woven itself around them. Neither of them could leave the dome until the spell he had to cast to create it was broken; in this way, he had made sure that the others wouldn't get caught in their battle.
Bound by their wands, they had struggled against each other for minute after exhausting minute. The magic had taken its toll on the both of them; their reactions and movements slowed considerably, and there were times where they barely avoided death through sheer luck.
They would have both collapsed from exhaustion if they had kept going. Which was why he had finally played his trump card.
It was based on two spells, one of which was relatively simple by itself. He had been able to do it for years. But cast behind more powerful magic, such as the kind used to bond two wands, it could create a force of "epic proportions."
The description certainly seemed apt.
Dirt and grass was whipped up around him and sent whirling through the air like a tornado. All he could hear was Tom's endless scream, together with the deafening howl of the wind.
Together we could have –
– wasted years
Taken everything
Gone gone
Pressure began building in his head. Tom's scream escalated above the roaring winds, filling his ears and his mind and
kill you Potter –
watch her die
Everything
– A new world for
threatening to drag him down, overwhelm him and drown him in the sound…
purify the magic
Tainted fouled
Enough games –
DIE!
"NO!" Harry bellowed, propelling himself up to face the wind and flinging his arms out wide. "I WILL NOT DIE!"
Tom stopped screaming, and the storm gradually died down. Harry's arms dropped to his sides; he no longer had the strength to keep them up. He fell to his hands and knees, breathing heavily between bouts of coughing that ripped through his throat.
It had drained him. Almost completely.
…But it was over. Tom Marvolo Riddle – Lord Voldemort – was gone.
Physically, at least.
Harry forced himself to look around. The golden dome was gone, and now that the dirt had settled back down, the area seemed normal. Except, of course, for the enormous, smoldering crater in the ground before him.
Six feet across and five feet deep. The grass had been scorched away and the dirt burned and blackened. The only testimony of Lord Voldemort's death.
Harry smiled, even though he couldn't stop the world from spinning. His final thought as he fell face-down into the ground was, The easy part is finished…
11 May, 1997, 8:12AM
Harry woke up to find himself in a cottage.
He could hear the sea outside. The cool breeze from the open window beside his bed smelled of salt.
He sat bolt upright.
The sea?
He looked down at himself to find that he'd been stripped to the waist. He glanced around the small room and located his wand and glasses on the bedside table. Snatching up both items, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Once he had his glasses on properly, he could see that the room was roughly the size of the one he'd had in Privet Drive and even more sparsely furnished. Besides the bed and the table, there was only a wooden chair and a chest of drawers. The walls were white and bare with only one window.
He glanced over at the door; it was slightly open, dispelling his idea that he might be a prisoner in this place. Shaking his head, he stood up – and immediately had to sit back down. His head was throbbing madly.
He grimaced as he rubbed his temples.
What the hell happened? Where am I? And who brought me here?
Gritting his teeth, he attempted to stand up once again. The room seemed to tilt slightly, but the throbbing in his head didn't get any worse. He took a deep breath and strode toward the door.
There was no magic whatsoever that he could detect, so he pulled the door open and stepped outside. He was in a short corridor that led into a bigger room, and straight across from him was another corridor that ended in a door much like his.
The smells of sausage and eggs and the sound of sizzling aroused his curiosity. He warily walked the rest of the way out of the corridor and craned his head around the corner.
The bigger room extended about twenty feet to either side of him. The left side had been furnished as a sort of living room, while the right side seemed to act as a kitchen and dining space.
And standing in front of the stove making breakfast was Snape.
His jaw dropped as he took the last step out into the room. Snape turned around and looked at him, his expression flat and unreadable.
"Where am I? What am I doing here? And what the hell are you doing?"
"Making breakfast," Snape replied.
"How?"
"They're rather conventional methods, as you could tell if you used your eyes," Snape said disdainfully.
"Acquired a sense of humor now, have you?" he said caustically.
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Don't be smart with me, Potter," he said softly.
"Don't play around with words, Snape," Harry rejoined. "And something's burning."
Snape turned back to the stove, which had begun to smoke. Harry watched him warily as he waved away the smoke and dumped some slightly burned sausages and scrambled eggs onto two plates. He carried them over to the small table by the wall, sat down, and promptly began to eat.
Harry stood watching him.
Snape finally looked up. "I went through the trouble to make this, and you're going to go through the trouble to eat it," he said. It was a glaringly obvious order.
Harry was about to say that he wasn't hungry when his stomach betrayed him by growling loudly. When he still hesitated, Snape snorted.
"If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it a long time ago."
Harry rolled his eyes and strode over to the table. He sat down across from Snape and pulled the plate of sausages and eggs toward him.
"First, tell me where we are," he said, glaring at Snape. "Godric's Hollow was nowhere near the sea."
"Well done, Potter," Snape said dryly. "One can only wonder where such intelligence stems from."
Harry took out his wand.
Snape pointedly ignored it and went back to eating. "Put that away. You're still too weak to do any magic, let alone kill me."
Harry scowled. "I'll ask you again. Where are we?"
"If I tell you, will you shut up and eat?" Snape asked irritably.
"For a while," Harry conceded.
"France."
"France?"
"Eat," Snape ordered as he stood up with his empty plate. He carried it back to the sink, where it proceeded to clean itself. He watched it for a moment before returning to the table.
Harry grudgingly picked up his fork and speared a sausage. He had to admit, it smelled good enough. He took a cautious bite.
Less than five minutes later, the plate had been scraped clean. Snape flicked it into the sink as Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Going to talk now?" he asked.
"Yes, and so are you," Snape replied. "I answer your questions and you answer mine. Deal?"
"What, you're forgoing the torture and opting for fair play?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
Snape gazed coldly at him.
Harry sighed. "Fair enough."
"I believe I answered your first question," Snape said. "We are in the south coast of France. There's a small Muggle village nearby that can provide us with supplies. As for your second question, you are here because I brought you here."
"Why? When?" Harry demanded. "Why didn't the Aurors stop you?"
"They arrived only moments after I did, but they couldn't touch me as long as I had hold of you," Snape said. "I told them you had succeeded, and that I was taking you."
"They just let you go?"
He shrugged. "They didn't have much of a choice, did they?"
"But that doesn't explain why. You murdered Dumbledore in cold blood. You betrayed his trust and the Order of the Phoenix. You're a goddamn Death Eater." Harry shoved his chair away from the table and stood up. He began pacing angrily across the floor. "You produced a Patronus. You told me that Tom was going to be at Godric's Hollow but not why. Tom didn't know it was you, but he knew I was going to be there. Tom calls all his Death Eaters to fight but you, his right hand man, never shows up. Only when everything is over do you come out." Harry stopped pacing to glare at him. "Know what that reminds me of?" he asked icily. "A coward."
Snape stood up so quickly that his chair flew back into the wall. There was fury burning behind his eyes, but Harry grimly met his gaze and held it.
"What kind of game are you playing, Snape?" he whispered. "Whose side are you on?"
––––––
Whose side are you on?
Snape turned around and faced the wall, willing himself to calm down. It would do no good to lose his temper here, now.
"You were always so simple, Potter," Snape said softly. "The lot of you. Your father, your mother, even Dumbledore. You see the world as black and white. Good and evil. But nothing in the world is like that. It's all gray. Just different shades of gray."
"You're wrong," the boy growled. "There is black and white. Black – people like Tom, like Bellatrix, like Kreacher. White – people like Dumbledore, like Mrs. Weasley, like Hermione and Ron and Neville and Ginny. Maybe they aren't perfectly white; maybe they're off-color in places, tainted. But that doesn't tarnish their purity, because purity comes from the inside."
"Spare me your philosophies," Snape said in annoyance. "My loyalties are of no concern to you."
"Wrong again," Harry said. "I've spent the better part of my life at Hogwarts fighting Tom. And if you haven't figured it out yet, fighting Tom is a rather time-consuming activity. Tom's gone now, and my job is done. You may not have anybody to go back to because this is over, but I have people that are waiting for me to come back. My friends. So tell me just what the hell you want with me, or I'm leaving."
"Trust me, Potter, I would rather live in hell than a cottage with you," Snape snapped. "But I had no choice – you are a potential threat to the world. A world Albus Dumbledore gave his life trying to protect."
"And you're all for saving it now that you've killed him, are you?" Harry spat.
Snape clenched his jaw. "Do you know, Potter?" he asked softly. "What you really are?"
There was silence.
Snape finally heard Harry move away toward the window. When he turned around, he found the boy staring out at the sea.
"I figured it out a long time ago," he said quietly. "It makes sense, doesn't it?" To Snape's surprise, he chuckled. "The ultimate revenge."
"What are you going to do?"
"Get rid of it," he said simply.
"I see."
The boy finally turned around to face him. "I don't suppose there's a way to force it out?"
He considered it for a moment. "If there is, I've never heard of it."
Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Okay."
"So you know you're a Horcrux," Snape said, raising his eyebrows, "but you still want to go back to your friends?"
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "It started manifesting itself as I destroyed the Horcruxes. At first it felt like there was so much power in me that I wouldn't be able to control it. But it's balanced, now, with my own soul. It can't take over."
"So what?" Snape said. "You're going to live with it?"
"That's why I've been trying to find a way to expel it, transfer it to something else," Harry said in frustration. "There's nothing."
They were both silent. Snape had known for quite some time, of course; it had been one of Dumbledore's worst fears. But he had never been quite sure whether the Dark Lord had been aware of it. Lord Voldemort had never intended for Harry Potter to become a Horcrux. All the Potters had been supposed to die that night.
Harry sighed. "So…what have you been doing until now? Why did you tell me he was going to be at Godric's Hollow?"
Snape snorted. "Those who knew of the Horcruxes knew you were destroying them. The Dark Lord was always brooding, always in a foul mood. I was merely biding my time. You saw how he was; the anger and paranoia consumed him, and added to the destruction of his soul, it drove him mad. He lost his power, his focus.
"I was with Draco until I sent him into hiding yesterday. The Dark Lord killed Lucius and Narcissa."
Harry's expression never changed. "Bellatrix?"
"Gone," Snape shrugged. "Disappeared two days ago. I suppose the Dark Lord sent her away. Merlin knows where she is or what she's doing."
Harry clenched his fists and turned away. "You don't care?"
"About the Dark Lord? No. You want to know whose side I'm on? No one's. I owe loyalty to no one but myself. That's how it has always been."
Harry shook his head and took a step away from him.
"We're not done," Snape said. "I answered your questions. Now you answer mine."
"What do you want to know?" Harry asked tightly.
"…How did you kill him?"
Harry paused for a moment before answering. "Patronus Charm."
"The Patronus Charm?" Snape asked incredulously. The Dark Lord had been defeated by a Patronus Charm?
"Although it's most commonly used against dementors, the Patronus is, in its basic form, a weapon against the Dark Arts," Harry recited flatly. "I used it with a Binding Spell."
"A Binding Spell?" Snape repeated in disbelief. "You performed a Binding Spell?" Binding Spells were a category unto themselves; they were considered to be Legendary or Ancient Spells in modern times because they were so complex that no one had been able to cast one since Merlin's time. And casting one in combination with a Patronus Charm created an almost unstoppable force of pure energy that made the Killing Curse seem like a bee sting. The last few wizards that had managed to live long enough to cast this combination spell hadn't survived the aftereffects. They had died of sheer exhaustion and magic depletion.
"Takes loads of practice," Harry said dryly.
Snape could only stare at him.
"If that's all you're going to ask, I have one more question," Harry said. "How long do you intend to keep me here?"
"I…I don't know," Snape said softly. A Binding Spell… He's much…much stronger than I thought… "Until we can destroy the Horcrux. Or until we can confirm that it will remain dormant."
"We?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.
Snape snorted and turned away. "I work for my benefit and my benefit only. It just so happens that this will benefit you, too."
"Who says I'm going to stay here with you?"
"You can't do it on your own, and you can never be entirely sure that you'll be harmless."
"So we're going to work together."
"Make no mistake, Potter. I still hate you."
Harry smiled wryly. "That works out, because I still think you're a greasy git." He turned back and strode toward his room, but before he stepped over the threshold of the door, he half-turned back. "…But I'd still like to say thank you."
19 May, 1997, 11:48AM
The cottage stood on a cliff over the sea. It was a surprisingly peaceful, beautiful place; Harry often wondered how Snape had come across it, but he had never found the opportunity to ask. There was a small garden behind the cottage that provided a few vegetables, but they mostly acquired supplies from the nearby village. The villagers, being Muggles, had been friendly and generous so far. Harry also didn't question how Snape knew fluent French.
They had been researching Horcruxes and souls relentlessly for the past week. It turned out that there was a lower level to the cottage that had been built underground some forty odd years ago, which was completely filled with books. There was an entire section devoted to magic dealing with souls. So far, they hadn't come across anything notable.
Harry sighed as he stared out across the sea. Snape was inside making lunch; having agreed that neither was the best cook, they had decided to take turns preparing meals each day.
He missed Ron and Hermione. He missed Remus and Tonks. He missed Kingsley and Sturgis and Mad-Eye and the Weasleys. He missed Hogwarts.
And he missed Ginny.
He had neither sent mail nor received any. It was better that they didn't know where he was. They knew he was alive, and that was enough.
He shook his head. Nothing good ever came of brooding, and there was a stack of books waiting for him after lunch. As he turned away from the edge of the cliff, he suddenly caught sight of something zooming toward the cottage from the opposite direction. The small brown blur shot down through the air, zipped past Harry's shoulder, did a quick turn and rocketed back past him over his other shoulder. It crashed through the open window and apparently hit something, because Snape cursed loudly.
An owl?
Harry hurried back inside. The owl was perched on the windowsill, looking slightly dazed. Snape was standing in front of the stove, a forgotten pot of soup vigorously bubbling away. He had just untied the note from the owl's leg and was in the process of unfolding it.
"Who's it from?" Harry asked.
Snape didn't answer. His face turned ashen as he scanned the note.
Harry stepped toward him, a strange sense of panic welling inside his chest. "What happened?" he demanded. "Who's it from?"
Snape wordlessly held the note out to him. Harry snatched it and read it quickly, his heart pounding in his ears.
Bring Harry back to Hogwarts.
Ginny's sick.
19 May, 1997, 11:56AM
Harry's mind raced as he impatiently waited for Snape to get ready.
Ginny's sick.
They wouldn't have contacted Snape unless it was serious. Very serious. Now that he thought about it, he never really found out whether everyone had survived the battle at Godric's Hollow. Ginny could have gotten hurt. She could have been ill all this time, getting worse and worse until…
He shook his head roughly.
"Are you ready?" Snape asked as he emerged from his room. He closed the door behind him and approached Harry.
He jerked his head in a nod.
"Then let's go."
Snape hadn't asked any questions. They had decided to leave on unspoken agreement.
"Apparate?"
"Yes."
"Into Hogwarts?"
"You can do that?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Harry said, and put a hand on Snape's shoulder.
––––––
19 May, 1997, 11:58AM
Hogwarts
Harry and Snape materialized in the corridor outside the Hospital Wing. Hermione jumped to her feet as soon as she saw them.
"Harry!" she cried, running toward him. "You're all right!"
Harry looked around as she flung her arms around his neck. Ron, Bill, Remus, and Tonks slowly got to their feet. Ron looked like he was in a state of shock, while Bill and Remus were glaring at Snape. Tonks' face was streaked with tears, but it wasn't enough to mask the fury in her eyes at the sight of Snape.
Hermione finally released him and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Harry – "
"Where's Ginny?" Harry demanded, striding toward the doors of the Hospital Wing. "What's wrong with her?"
Remus' voice stopped him. "Harry, wait…"
He whipped around. "What's wrong with her?" he repeated angrily. "Why's she sick? What the hell happened?"
Remus couldn't meet his eyes. "She…"
"She just collapsed, yesterday," Bill said quietly. "Had a seizure of some sort. She's burning up and nothing can wake her, but she keeps saying your name, over and over again. That's why we called you."
Harry turned on his heel and strode through the doors of the Hospital Wing.
Ginny was lying on the first bed to his left. A sheet had been pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were closed, but her face was covered in perspiration and she looked as if she were in extreme pain.
Sweet Merlin.
Madam Pomfrey and Charlie stood up from where they'd been sitting by her side.
"Harry – "
"What's wrong with her?" he whispered as he approached her bed. He could hear now that she was moaning softly, her lips moving soundlessly…but he swore he could hear her calling his name…
He reached out and touched her cheek. Her skin was hot to the touch. "What's wrong with her?" he asked again, his voice breaking.
Snape, Hermione, Ron, Bill, Remus, and Tonks had followed him inside. They all stood around the foot of Ginny's bed with the exception of Snape, who hung back in the shadows beside the door.
Remus and Madam Pomfrey exchanged worried glances. "The symptoms…" he hesitated.
"A Healer from St. Mungo's came last night," Madam Pomfrey said nervously. Harry had never seen her look so distressed. "He…"
"Tell me it's not true, Harry," Bill whispered, almost pleadingly. "Tell me it's not true…"
"What's not true?" Harry asked, his fear slowly turning into anger.
"Harry, Ginny is… She has…" Remus took a deep breath. "She's a…Horcrux."
Harry's heart froze inside his chest, and then it felt like all the heat in the room gathered around it, burning him in the middle. He stared at Remus, willing to give up anything in the world to believe that he had misunderstood.
"We saw it," Charlie whispered. "For a moment. Her eyes. They weren't hers."
"She's fighting it," Remus said softly, looking sadly at Ginny.
"The only thing we can't figure out," Tonks said quietly, "is how."
Harry felt like he had stepped out of the world.
Remus' words still echoed in his mind.
She's…
She's a…Horcrux.
Ginny.
How?
How could Tom…?
It struck him.
The Chamber of Secrets.
"So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted…I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"
My soul…
Into her…
Harry stared down at Ginny, horrorstruck.
"No," he whispered.
Up Next: Tensions mount and tempers start to flare as the Boy Who Lived faces the prospect of becoming the Boy Who Became Possessed. Is Snape going to be of any help?
We really didn't read this one over at all, so sorry if anything's messed up. Now we don't get our copies of DH until tomorrow, so NO SPOILERS! Well...come to think of it, you'll probably all be too busy fainting over whatever's happened in DH to pay much attention to our story for a while. And on that note, since this story was originally scheduled to be finished before DH was published, we don't see much point in finishing it now that it's out. ...What we're really trying to say is that we need feedback. For real. Either we're going to keep going with this or not, and that all depends on you. We're not wasting time writing stuff no one's going to read. So...yeah. Hope to hear from all of you soon, and happy reading!
Cheers! - The Fat Chipmunk and jynkyg :)
