Chapter 8

This is here:

"Hey," Harry said tiredly as he entered the room.

Hermione took one look at him and burst into tears.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked Ron.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron repeated incredulously, "Are you… Have you gone barmy? You disappear for a day, presumably in search of the murdering bastard himself and you ask why Hermione's crying?"

"I'm not crying," Hermione sobbed. She loudly blew her nose and wiped at her eyes.

"You were worried about me," Harry stated; it came out as a question.

"Where have you been?" demanded Hermione, "We couldn't find you. We tried everything!"

"I didn't want to be found," Harry said, "I went to look for Severus."

"Judging by the fact that you're still alive I'd say that venture was unsuccessful?" Ron asked.

"Oh, no, no I did find him all right." Harry sat down and yawned. "Say, has my counterpart ever entertained the notion that Severus might still be on your side?"

This isn't:

"May I remind you again that I have strong objections against this little… adventure of yours?"

"Yeah, you only told me about a million times," Harry grumbled.

He was kneeling in front of the grave stone again. Touching the snake gently he saw that it moved its head to look at him. It seemed to observe him out out of curious eyes.

"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, "Open up!"

The snake suddenly reared its head; more of its body was freed from the confines of the stone and became three-dimensional.

"You can speak my master's language," it hissed softly. "Are you one of his heirs?"

"In a manner of speaking," Harry hedged and it seemed impossible but he could have sworn that the snake glared suspiciously at him.

"Yes, I am descended from Salazar Slytherin, your master," he lied firmly.

"Very well," the snake hissed and the earth beneath Harry and Severus began to shake. Severus gripped Harry's shoulder while remaining alert for any sign of Dementors.

Slowly the stone began to move aside and revealed a narrow staircase that was lit by small golden globes which flickered slightly.

"Globes filled with Gubraithian fire," Severus breathed, "Amazing."

"Whatever," Harry muttered as he made to descend the stairs, "D'you want to come with me?"

"I think it'll be better if I stay here in case the Dementers come back. You could take this with you, however."

Severus handed Harry a Muggle picture camera. "Take some photos. There shouldn't be charms against that sort of thing down there. Be careful."

"You are a very strange wizard sometimes," Harry commented, pocketing the camera.

"Some would say – and do say – that I'm not a proper one."

"That's rubbish. You've got magic, haven't you?"

Harry gave a mocking little bow. "See you later."

He went down the staircase, feeling Severus' gaze rest on him until he'd disappeared completely from sight. After about thirty steps he reached a chamber, about twenty feet in diameter with an improbably high wall; it was probably enlarged by wizard space. The room was completely made out of stone. Harry, thinking back to the Chamber of Secrets, shuddered slightly.

In the middle of the chamber stood a sarcophagus, also made out of stone. It was rather short and very plain – not at all what Harry had expected the grave of a powerful wizard like Salazar Slytherin to be like.

There was no inscription whatsoever, no images or engravings telling of Slytherin's great deeds.

On top of the sarcophagus, however, stood a golden cup with two delicately wrought handles.

Harry's breathing quickened; it couldn't be that easy, surely?

Nevertheless, nothing happened when he approached the cup and he picked it up gingerly to examine it more closely. It seemed to be very old indeed; and there was a small badger engraved on it which Harry traced reverently. This was Hufflepuff's cup… One of Voldemort's horcruxes.

Just then a shout rang out, sounding oddly muffled to his ears: "Harry!"

It was Severus. Grabbing the cup firmly in his left hand, Harry took out his own useless wand and sprinted up the stairs. The other wizard was surrounded by approaching Dementors. Although he'd incanted the Patronus charm his Patronus had not assumed a definited shape or form: Silver vapour clung to some of the Dementors which drove them back but wasn't enough to fight them off entirely.

When they perceived Harry the Dementors started closing in on him as well; he took a deep breath, recalled his first view of Hogwarts as an eleven years old boy and incanted "Expecto Patronum!" Silvery light fizzed from his wand and it grew warm in his hand; Harry shook it in frustration.

"Stupid, bloody, useless unicorn hair," he breathed, then yelled, "Severus, I need your wand!"

All he received in response was a snarl and then a pained moan. Through the cold mist that envelopped him completely now Harry could see that Severus was kneeling down, trying to fend off his attackers with no success.

And then the screaming in his mind started; darkness grew at the edges of Harry's vision and he fought to keep his eyes open, to stay conscious. He stumbled back and nearly fell into the still open staircase. Nonetheless, he lost his balance and dropped the cup he was holding.

Never mind that now, he told himself and bit his lip. The Dementors were coming closer, some of them pulling their hoods down. Their rattling breath sounded loudly in the air and Harry could feel their excitement at the prospect of a proper meal that would assuage their hunger for souls.

The darkness was growing now. Harry rolled over, coughed and found Severus' hand which he grasped. He groped for the other wizard's wand but his consciousness was slipping away rapidly. His mother's screaming grew louder and louder; he whimpered. He felt the Dementors hovering over them and his mind slipped into a narrow black tunnel.

The first thing Harry saw upon opening his eyes was Severus' pale face, tight with worry.

"You're alive," he whispered, clutching Harry's arms and drawing him into a desperate embrace, "You're alive."

"Yeah," he whispered, sucking in a harsh breath.

"Harry," the other wizard moaned and pressed a kiss against his lips. Harry drew back in shock but Severus didn't release him. He only held him tighter against his chest and Harry let him. He could feel Severus' heart beat, could almost hear the quick and erratic thump against his own skin.

"I'm sorry," Severus breathed, "I…"

"Don't," Harry said softly, "Don't."

His lips were still tingling from the swift kiss and a part of Harry's mind begged him to acknowledge that he'd just been kissed by another bloke, for goodness' sake, and could he please start to hyperventilate anytime soon now?

But Severus' arms were warm, reassuring in their firmness as they dispelled his memories of the Dementors' coldness invading his heart.

"What happened?" he murmured against Severus' heavy robes, "I thought I'd die for sure… Or at least get kissed."

"You just did," the other man remarked drily and Harry released a choked laugh.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes. Yes, I do. Look for yourself."

Severus helped Harry to get up and Harry realized that the small hill around them was covered by dark pieces of cloth. With a jolt he recognized these to be Dementors' cloaks. A stench of foulness and dead things was emanating from them; he sneezed.

"Where are they?" he demanded.

"Your theory of Voldemort hiding a horcrux in this tomb proved to be correct," Severus said, "This was Hufflepuff's cup, I presume?"

He held up the golden cup. Its shine was matted now; it seemed dirty and even older than before. The engraved badger was gone, leaving a blackened spot in its place and both handles were broken off.

Harry nodded.

"My… theory, if you will, is that the Dementors could feel Voldemort's soul in there – potential food for them. When you said that there wasn't a wizarding soul in this area you were not entirely correct, Harry. The Dementors wanted to feed off this piece of soul and so they congregated here, trying in vain to actually reach it."

"But aren't they attracted to happy emotions?"

"You assumed that Voldemort wasn't happy when he created this," Severus explained gently, "But he most certainly was. After all, by creating this he'd just made a further step towards immortality. So, when you brought the cup they concentrated on this one object – perhaps because they'd been focusing on it for so long. Now, this is my guess, but I think that such an actively evil soul proved too much for them."

"They died?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes. Dementors can be killed, though it is very hard to do so. When dying they simply disappear… Leaving those behind." Severus pointed towards the cloaks.

"We were bloody lucky then."

"Indeed."

"And Voldemort's another horcrux down… At least here."

Harry sagged against Severus and yawned.

"Can you wait here for a moment? I'd like to go down myself now that danger has passed and take some pictures. The opportunity may never present itself again."

"Sure," Harry muttered, "Whatever."

Once they were back at Snape's house Harry gorged himself on chocolate until he felt fit to burst. He contemplated the cup now sitting on the kitchen table under a powerful containment spell.

"You know," he said to Severus, "I thought it would be more spectacular. The whole thing. I mean, destroying Gaunt's ring cost my Dumbledore his hand and getting to Slytherin's locket damn near killed him."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Nearly being kissed by Dementors wasn't spectacular enough for you?"

"That wasn't Voldemort's doing though," Harry pointed out.

"True. You must realise that Parselmouths are extremely rare. Voldemort thinks himself to be the only one left alive with this particular skill, so why waste magic on further precautions? As to destroying a horcrux, it is very difficult – we were merely lucky that those Dementors were starved. Else they would have realised their mistake and left a piece of soul created by an act of murder well enough alone."

"Who d'you think he killed for this?" Harry asked and prodded the containment spell with his finger. The spell lit up as a blue cylinder around the cup and he received a light electric shock as a warning.

"I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Albus Dumbledore. He is likely to know since he makes it his business to know everything about his former student."

"It's strange to think of Voldemort as an adolescent with spots and a breaking voice."

Severus smirked. "Perhaps you should. Ridiculing people lessens their power of frightening us. Boggarts go a long way of showing that."

Harry spent the rest of the day dozing and looking up words for Severus in an enormous dictionary; the older wizard was having trouble translating a transcript. It was a dialogue in prison between an Auror and the original owner of the bowl. He'd been one of Grindelwald's most trusted servants as well as passing as a high-ranking SS officer. Harry read – with growing horror – about the atrocities this wizard had comitted against the Jewish community of wizards and witches. In the transcript the man listed them with very little regret but obvious relish.

"But what… Why does it matter which religion a wizards belongs to?" Harry asked Severus in dismay, "I thought Grindelwald was all about the purity of blood?"

Severus sighed. "It's complicated. Back then even Muggles believed that the Jews were inferior to their own race."

He sneered. "Utter rubbish, of course, but the German wizarding community was caught up in this nonsense. The Jewish wizarding community was small. It didn't use wands but relied on techniques they'd learned from their forbears. This system was heavily based on the secret and powerful combination of numbers. In fact, our modern Arithmancy is also derived from their sources. Being able to work magic without wands has always frightened people, it still does. It was a convenient excuse to imprison them in concentration camps, to torture their knowledge out of them before killing them."

"That's…" Harry swallowed. "That's sick. I didn't know that."

"It happened after Professor Binns' death," Severus remarked, "Therefore it's not considered history and not on his syllabus."

Harry glanced at the clock hanging next to a large poster full of colourful fruit. While the poster was a magical one – it showed the fruit ripening until they shrilly demanded to be eaten – the clock was purely Muggle and actually told the real time.

"It's nearly time for the Order meeting," he said tiredly, "Listen, can you go without me? I'd rather not face Sirius again and I'll be rubbish at explaining the whole horcrux thing anyway."

"What shall your excuse be this time?" Severus demanded and counted of his fingers, "Let's see, you've been ill, injured, indisposed because of scheduling conflicts… We can't have any old relative of yours dying, your mother would know better."

"Just tell them I've been knocked on my arse by Dementors, 's part of the truth, anyway."

"Very well." Severus got up and levitated Hufflepuff's cup carefully in front of him. "I shall see you later."

He patted Harry's shoulder on his way out and Harry touched the spot where the other man's hand had rested for only a moment. It felt strangely warm to him, long after Severus had left.