Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Sorry for the delay… again and big thanks for all of you who are still staying with this fic. Aside from this new chapter, I've also made several changes on chapter 19 and chapter 23 according to what we've learned in DH. Yes, I know this is an AU, but I found that a few new 'facts' can fit right into this story and I really want to follow the canon's characterization as closely as I can (Aside from Tom's, obviously, since I've practically ignored everything we've learned about his past).

Now, I'm assuming that everything here has finished DH (Spoilers warning!). I'm only including two new 'facts' in this fic - everything we've learned about Snape's past and the fact that only Death Eaters in the inner circle are marked (If I remember correctly, it's mentioned in the book). The plot stays mostly the same; the biggest change is that Snape now has a very good reason to want to protect Harry.

All right, on with the story then. As usual, big thanks to my beta Irihi Safaia.

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Friend or Foe

Chapter 25: Doubts

Draco would never have imagined that things would turn out this way. Over Easter, the situation of the war had gone from bad to worse. The Dark Lord was rapidly gaining control over the wizarding world. People were panicking and random attacks were reported every day. It had not taken long for things to get totally out of control for both the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix.

Draco looked out the window in his room, trying to remember how things used to be merely several months ago - when he was not involved in the war, when he didn't need to worry about being uncovered every second… when he was still at Hogwarts.

After months of preparations, the Dark Lord was now ready to bring this war to a whole new level. He was ceasing his attacks on random locations and was making plans to take over both the Ministry and Hogwarts. As part of those plans, he had decided that all Death Eater children were to stay at home and wait for further orders. No matter how bad things used to be, the thought of not being able to return to school had never occurred to Draco. Now, on the day when all students were supposed to return to Hogwarts after the holiday, Draco was surprised at how much he wished he could be on board the Hogwarts Express instead staying at home, a place he no longer felt safe in.

He had not heard much from the other Slytherins, so he had no way to determine how many of them were not returning to school. He knew that many of his fellow Slytherins had gone on their first raid in the holiday, and it seemed most of them didn't find the life of being a Death Eater anywhere close to what they had been led to believe.

But it didn't matter. Draco had been in that position before. He knew they would not back out, even if they could. They had all been taught by their families to see the chance of serving the Dark Lord as an honor, something to be proud of. They had been waiting for this moment for as long as they could remember. Draco knew that feeling of anticipation very well. He wouldn't even have thought of not joining the Dark Lord had it not been for that stubborn idiot – the same one who was currently running circles for the Dark Lord in hopes of redeeming him.

Draco walked over to his desk and absentmindedly flipped open his potions text as his thoughts turned to the boy he had somehow forged a tentative friendship with this year. He wondered if Harry knew how deeply in trouble he was now.

While the whole world still believed that The-Boy-Who-Lived had been captured by the Death Eaters, the Ministry now suspected Harry of being a Death Eater himself, thanks to that coward Wormtail. The Minister had once again covered up the whole story, which was no wonder since the wizarding world had started to see Harry Potter as their 'Chosen One,' the one who was 'destined' to defeat the Dark Lord for them. Some of the more desperate ones had even taken Dumbledore's story that Harry was 'missing but in no danger' as evidence that their supposed savior was training in secret to fight the Dark Lord. It was all a show for the public, of course, and it certainly wouldn't protect Harry from the Ministry and the Order.

Draco's father had told him that many of those who were present in Wormtail's trial had dismissed that seemingly outrageous claim as the Dark Lord's trick to confuse their side. But for those who knew better, it was clear that the Dark Lord was not happy with Wormtail's cowardice, which inevitably suggested that there might be some truth in his words.

Despite the Prophet's claim, Peter Pettigrew was not killed by the Dementor's Kiss, he was killed by the Dark Lord's hand, literally. Draco wondered if the Dark Lord had deliberately given Wormtail that silver arm just for this purpose. Either way, one thing was clear, Harry was truly trapped now.

Draco knew he should be worried. But why was it that all he could feel now was betrayal? It was the same feeling he had when he saw Harry taking the Dark Mark just after he had convinced Draco to become a spy. That feeling had lessened after Harry had explained his intention to him, but it was still there. It was still there and it had been growing stronger as time passed. No matter what Harry's intention was, they were now working for different sides, as ironic as it seemed. Despite his initial disgust and discomfort, Draco had found himself becoming more and more devoted to the Order. And while he didn't want to imagine Harry conforming to the Dark Lord's cause, he had heard rumors of inferi creating havocs in muggle villages and he suspected he knew who was behind them. Draco knew very well that using Dark Arts was not without its toll, and being submerged in such a dark environment could change anyone, even someone like-

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on his door.

"Dinner is ready, Draco," came his mother's voice. "Your father is coming back tonight. Don't keep him waiting."

As if Draco would want to anger his father, who was growing more and more distant from the family as he spent almost all his time preparing the complete takeover of the Ministry. Draco found that he simply didn't care anymore, not after what his father had done to him.

He closed his eyes and ignored the tinkling pain emerged from that thought. Everything had started the day when his father showed him the Dark Lord's 'gift.' Draco had not expected to see that person under such circumstance, nor had he prepared to do what his father had forced him to.

The only thing that Draco was glad about with not returning to Hogwarts was that he wouldn't have to worry about seeing Weasley there. After all, how could he face the redhead now when he knew exactly what had happened to his father? How could he insult his supposed 'enemy' when he himself had been the one who cast curse after curse at the defenseless Arthur Weasley?

It had been a practice, his father had said, to 'remedy' Draco's hesitation to torture Severus in the meeting earlier. There was nothing he could do but to follow his father's orders. He felt sick of himself for it. And he couldn't help but hate his father for what he had put him through.

Draco shook his head, sneering slightly at those sentimental thoughts. Whatever had happened to Arthur Weasley, there was only one way to change that. All Draco needed to do was to find a way to contact Dumbledore. The old man could handle it from there then. Hopefully Weasley would live long enough for the rescue to come.

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As it turned out, contacting Dumbledore had proved to be quite troublesome now that Draco was not at Hogwarts. Draco now understood why his godfather had worked at the school even though anyone could tell that he despised teaching.

After wasting much time, Draco finally managed to arrange a meeting with Dumbledore, and the man had suggested an unexpected venue. Draco wasn't sure about the idea of apparating directly into the infamous Shrieking Shack, but he figured he had little choice in that matter, and delivering his report was more important.

He was wrong.

"You knew." Draco looked up at the man sitting across from him with narrowed eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Dumbledore's nodded slowly, confirming Draco's suspicion. "Severus had located Arthur a week before he was uncovered as a spy."

Draco stiffened momentarily at the mention of his godfather before his face hardened. "I didn't hear of any rescue party being sent."

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus had told me that Arthur was… beside himself. Many lives would be sacrificed in the rescue attempt and it would be too reckless for our current situation."

In another word, Dumbledore didn't think Weasley's life was worth the effort. Draco clenched his fists. He understood Dumbledore's reasoning, of course. Given the same situation, he too would have simply left Weasley to the Dark Lord. Then why was he so angry? That was just… Weasley, wasn't it?

Still, Draco found it hard to believe Dumbledore's indifference. After working as an Order member for months now, he had thought, had expected, that Arthur Weasley would be saved once he was located. The man's mind wasn't even damaged beyond repair.

Arthur Weasley's broken form flashed before Draco's eyes. He now knew that there was no hope left for the man. Dumbledore had never planned to save him and Draco had been foolish to believe otherwise. Arthur Weasley had been sentenced to death the moment he let himself be captured. But if that was the case...

"Professor Snape might be there too, in that dungeon," said Draco quietly, looking up at the old wizard. "But you're not going to send out your men for merely two lives, are you?"

"Severus is a close friend of mine, Draco, as is Arthur," said Dumbledore, a stern look entering his eyes. "If there is any way worth trying to save them, I would do so, but there's little I can do at the moment."

"Then why did you ask me to find Professor Snape if you never intended to get him out?" Draco snapped, not bothering to contain his anger anymore.

Dumbledore looked at him through his half-moon glasses. "This I'm afraid I cannot say at the moment, but it's most important that you find him, Draco, and as soon as possible."

Draco barely refrained himself from cursing Dumbledore in frustration. Who did the old man think he was to order him around like this? Draco was tempted to just walk out of the shack and tell Dumbledore to find someone else to do his job. But at the same time he knew that his godfather would be as good as dead without the Order's help. Draco knew he alone would never be able to rescue Severus from wherever the Dark Lord was keeping him. Dumbledore had other motives, it was clear, but Draco was confident that he could handle it, being the only one who could possibly contact Severus.

"If I find him," said Draco slowly, "would that mean Professor Snape's safety then?"

Dumbledore's eyes were focused on the blocked window when he answered. "I will do what I can."

Draco gritted his teeth. He knew that was all he could get the man to promise. Suppressing his anger, he made one last remark before disapparating back home.

"Just so you know, the Dark Lord is planning to use Arthur Weasley to recruit a potential member. I don't know who his target is, but that person seems to have some close tie with the Order. Father is working on bring him to the Dark Lord as we speak."

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Percy Weasley walked down the long corridor of the Ministry of Magic, nodding automatically as he passed by two wizards he knew were department heads. He had been on this level of the building before during his meetings with the Minister, but this time he was here to visit someone else. He had passed by that man's office several times before, but had never been in there, nor had he a reason to until now.

Lucius Malfoy seemed to be waiting for him. Knowing full well who the man was both in and outside the Ministry, Percy entered the office with caution. Sitting behind his desk, Malfoy calmly gestured Percy to take the seat across from him.

"Ah, what a pleasure to see you here, Mr. Weasley," said Malfoy, his tone made it clear that he did not mean a word of it.

Not wanting to spend any more time in this office, Percy pulled out a letter from his pocket and placed it on the desk. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I know you understand what I mean. You know more than people give you credit for, no?" said Malfoy with a smirk that was more like a sneer. "This letter is merely an… offer. This world needs to be changed and capable hands are needed to bring about that change." He looked at Percy piercingly. "But of course, to do that, one needs power, and… opportunity."

Percy tensed. So it was not his imagination. For some reason, Malfoy was trying to bring him to Voldemort's side.

"I'm not sure I understand what opportunity you are talking about."

Malfoy leaned back in his chair with an arrogant air about him. "Relax, Mr. Weasley. All I want is for you to think deeply on what is best for you… and your family."

That caught Percy's attention. "My family?" he repeated. "Is that a threat, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy laughed. "Oh no, young Weasley, you misunderstood me. I am deeply sorry about what has happened to your father. I really do hope I would be able to help in any way, but unfortunately, your father's… view on certain issues limits my ability to do so."

Percy hated where this conversation was going, but the thought of his father made him stay.

"Are you saying you can bring me to my father?" he asked cautiously.

"A friend of mine might be able to help, yes."

The glint in Malfoy's eyes left no doubt in Percy's mind of who that 'friend' was.

"I'm afraid I cannot accept your offer, Mr. Malfoy," said Percy in a tight voice. "And if you'd excuse me, I think it's time for me to take my leave. I hope I haven't taken up too much of your time, all I wanted was to return this letter."

With that said, Percy turned and walked out of the office, but Malfoy's voice stopped him.

"Ah, so you are giving up the opportunity to save your father, not to mention creating a better future for your whole family? A shame, but not unexpected." Malfoy paused. "A word of advise though, young Weasley, don't get your hopes up if you are depending on Albus Dumbledore to deliver your father back to you."

Percy forced himself to walk out of the office. He could feel Malfoy's haughty gaze watching him as he left. It was not until he stepped into the elevator when he dared to breathe again.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard, what Malfoy was implying to him. If Malfoy thought for a second that Percy would betray his side, he was wrong. After what had happened to his father, how dare Malfoy even approach him? Percy shoved the whole outrageous conversation to the back of his mind. There was no point mentioning it to the others; they had enough worries as it was.

Despite his firm determination, though, Percy couldn't help thinking back on what Malfoy had said to him for the rest of the day, nor could he shake off the feeling that there might be traces of truth among all those lies.

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A masked figure in Death Eater costume apparated into the clearing before the Dark Lord's manor. He raised his wand and immediately dozens of floating figures appeared before him. He suppressed a shiver and waved his wand.

"Dismissed."

His wand glowed at the same time he voiced out his order. The army of inferi obediently started to drift off to the nearby forest and disappeared from sight.

Harry closed his eyes as the now familiar surge of power flowed through him. The feeling that had been so repulsive before now seemed almost… comforting. It helped to clear his mind against all the nightmarish scenes he had seen.

Harry shook his head and started to walk back towards the manor warily. How many had died because of him tonight? How many deaths was he now responsible for?

He was exhausted by the time he reached the manor, as he had been every time he came back from a mission in the past few weeks. Only a few Death Eaters were in the hallway as Harry made his way back to his room. It seemed he was one of the first that had returned after the day's attacks. Avery, the Death Eater who had gone with Harry to the attack, had gone ahead to report their success to the Dark Lord, eager to claim the victory all by himself. Harry could care less about gaining the Dark Lord's approval, at least not in that way. In fact, Voldemort was the last person he wanted to meet at the moment.

It didn't make sense, Harry knew, considering that the Dark Lord was the sole reason behind all that he had done this year. It all pointed to one fact that Harry had been trying his hardest to avoid addressing, the same fact that many had tried to point out to him – his 'mission' was destined to fail. Or perhaps, it had already failed, fifty years ago when he left Tom Riddle behind, he was simply too stubborn to believe that now.

True, on a few occasions, Harry could glimpse the shadow of the boy he used to know in Voldemort, but was that enough?

Forcefully, Harry stopped himself from going further down that line of thoughts. Doubting now would be fatal, and he could not allow that, not when he had already gone so far.

But despite that, as if to mock him, memories of his recent raids flashed before his eyes.

His new 'job' had been easy enough. All he needed to do was to summon the inferi to wherever there was an attack. Despite what Voldemort had said, the Dark Lord didn't really seem to expect Harry to control the inferi, or rather, Voldemort didn't seem to think that he would issue any attacks. Harry had soon found out that the inferi were capable of creating havoc all by themselves. They would attack anything that was before them mindlessly, rounding up escaping muggles or dragging victims towards burning buildings. Harry could control them, yes, but only over a small range, not enough to change anything.

And that was when the doubt in his mind started to grow.

So far, he had been able to cling to the fact that even though he had switched side, he couldn't really give Voldemort any real advantage over the war. But that was not true, not anymore. In the end, he was even worse than Peter Pettigrew, wasn't he?

"Ah, if it isn't Harry Potter."

Startled at the sudden voice, Harry spun around at once, his hand reaching for his wand.

"A little jumpy, aren't we, Potter?"

Smirking at Harry was an unfamiliar woman with dark hair. She was in Death Eater's black robe, but without her mask on. The crazy look in her eyes made Harry tightened his grip on his wand.

The Death Eater looked up and down at Harry. "I see you are smarter than my dear cousin in making your choice."

"Cousin?" repeated Harry. It was then he knew who he was talking to. He narrowed his eyes. "You are Bellatrix Black."

Bellatrix feigned surprised. "So you've heard of me. Let me guess, from Sirius?"

Harry stiffened. "What do you know of Sirius?"

"What do I know of him? Oh, I know all about that blood traitor," said Bellatrix.

"Don't call him that!" Harry hissed.

"Now, now, what's with the anger, Harry?" said Bellatrix in a mocking voice. She didn't seem to be affected in the slightest. "Oh, I see, you loved him, didn't you?"

Harry gritted his teeth, his anger building within him.

"Ah, so you do!" The sickening smile never left Bellatrix's face. She leaned in closer to Harry. "Then you should be pleased to know that he is no longer fighting for the wrong cause, little Potter. It hurts me to say that it is the only way for him to see his mistake. It's a shame to think that such a blood traitor ever came from my own fam-"

Harry's wand was out before he realized what he was doing. "Shut up!" he bellowed. "You have no right to talk about him like that!"

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Voldemort was listening to the report of his Death Eaters when a sudden wave of anger filled his sense.

Potter.

The first thought that came to his mind was the boy. The vast amount of anger he was feeling through their connection right now alarmed him. What was happening?

He snarled at the thought and set to strengthen his shield against the invading emotions, as he usually did. Only this time, his curiosity stopped him from doing so. It was unusual for Potter to be that angry and Voldemort decided to take a brief look at the cause of it.

Pushing aside his own share of anger at the trouble Potter was causing him, Voldemort reached for the connection he shared with the boy. There was anger, and accompanying it was no less an amount of pain. Concerned despite himself, Voldemort reached further. It didn't seem to be any physical pain, but-

The next feeling caused him to recoil. What… was that?

Voldemort could recognize that feeling. It was the same feeling he always felt on a battlefield, when the lives of those pathetic creatures ended by his hands.

Pleasure. A dark and twisted kind of pleasure.

Voldemort closed his eyes then. That… was wrong. Whatever Potter was doing now, it needed to be stopped.

Potter's mental shield had scrambled as his emotions overcame him, and Voldemort was able to see what was happening to the boy right now, and with that, a glimpse of the deepest layer of emotions that was threatening to break the boy. What he saw was… disturbing.

He abruptly pulled himself out from that mess of emotions that Potter was now feeling… and losing control of.

"You have done well," he addressed the few Death Eaters gathered in the hall. "Now leave, I shall be calling you again soon."

He ignored the mutters of gratitude from his servants as he strode out of the meeting hall. Using Legilimancy, he was able to locate the exact position of the boy. He carefully avoided diving too deep into Potter's undefended mind while maintaining a close enough connection to keep track on the boy's situation.

/What happened, Master?/ asked Nagini as she hastily followed behind him. From her concerned voice, Voldemort wondered if the snake had somehow guessed that Potter was involved.

/It would seem that something has pushed Potter far enough for him to use an unforgivable that he so hated,/ Voldemort answered simply.

He could feel Potter's anger growing stronger by seconds as he walked through the hallway of the manor. Then all of a sudden, the anger died down. For a moment, Voldemort couldn't feel a thing from the other side of the link. It was all empty.

He knew whatever had happened was over now. Potter was fine, he could tell, at least physically.

The link was all silence for seconds, then a distinct feeling of shock began to roll off from the boy.

Nearing his destination, Voldemort encountered a Death Eater running to report to him.

"M-my Lord," the Death Eater breathed, looking very uncomfortable and nervous. "It's Potter! He… Bellatrix… they-"

Voldemort didn't bother stopping. He walked past the Death Eater, ignoring him altogether. He had a good idea of what had happened. Seconds ago from Potter's eyes, he could see Bellatrix twitching on the floor screaming in pain.

He was not too surprised, therefore, when he rounded the last corner and saw the state Bellatrix was in.

A Death Eater was hovering over Bellatrix's unconscious form on the ground. He backed off hurriedly as Voldemort approached.

"How is she?" said Voldemort, looking down at the pool of blood Bellatrix was lying on.

"I-it was the Cruciatus Curse, my Lord." The Death Eater paused. "She's barely alive."

The Death Eater looked as though he wanted to run. He took a step back when Voldemort glanced from Bellatrix to focus on him. It was understandable, Voldemort supposed, he had always liked Bellatrix for her loyalty and the power she possessed. It was no secret among his followers that he had taken the time to teach the witch Dark Arts himself. At that moment, though, he was more concerned about Potter than the dark witch.

"Where is Potter?"

"He ran down the hallway over there, my Lord." The Death Eater pointed a shaky finger towards the path Voldemort knew would lead to the boy's room.

He ordered the Death Eater to take Bellatrix to a healer and turned towards the direction where Potter had disappeared to, but made no move to follow him. He wanted to check on the boy, yes, but that was all. He didn't want Potter anywhere in his sight, especially not after experiencing what he knew were Potter's suppressed emotions.

/I'm going to check on Alex, Master,/ came a hissing voice from behind him. His snake seemed to be too anxious to wait any longer.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the name, but didn't comment on it. Instead he chose to explain what had happened.

/The Cruciatus Curse draws off not only the anger he feels at that moment, but also the vast amount of it that he seems to have suppressed for some time. That is why he lost control of the curse./ He glanced at Nagini and added, /Tell the boy, I am sure he would want to know./

With that said, he turned around left for the own quarter, knowing that Nagini would take good care of the boy.

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Harry looked up as the door to his room cracked open. Nagini slithered into his room and onto his bed. Harry sat up on his bed slowly and let the huge snake rest her head on his lap.

/How is Bellatrix Black?/ he asked quietly.

/Barely alive, it seems,/ Nagini answered casually. Then, as if sensing something wasn't right, she tilted up her head to look at Harry's face. /Are you feeling all right, Master Alex?/

Harry was about to tell her that he was fine, but the words died on his lips. Sighing, he leaned his head back on the wall and closed his eyes.

/What is happening to me, Nagini?/ he asked softly.

/Master Alex?/

After spending so much time with the serpent for the past month, Harry could tell that Nagini was concerned. He shouldn't have made her that worried; it was his own problem after all.

/You know you can trust me with anything, master Alex,/ said Nagini, slithering closer to him.

Harry smiled slightly despite himself. Nagini was getting to know him too well, and she was starting to become too similar to Mrs. Weasley at times. At the thought of the Weasleys, Harry's smile fell. He stared silently at the ceiling for a moment before speaking quietly.

/I'm not sure about anything anymore,/ he said. /It seemed to be the right thing to do then, but now… now I just feel like a traitor… and a murderer./ He turned to the snake listening to him. /But you don't understand what I mean, do you? I… I just want him to stop. But… all I can think of now is how I've become more… like him./

/You mean Master… don't you?/ Nagini asked in a gentle tone.

Harry nodded. He stared at his hands. / I felt so angry just now. And it felt so… good to hear Bellatrix scream, to know that I'm causing her pain./ He shook his head. /What's wrong with me?/

/Master said you are drawing on your suppressed anger. That's why it became so strong that it went out of control./

Harry turned to her sharply at that. /The Dark Lord knew about it?/

/Yes, he felt something wrong in the meeting hall. He saw what happened and told me to check on you./

Harry clenched his fists, then released them. He felt suddenly exhausted, more so than when he returned from the raid.

/I don't know what to do anymore, Nagini,/ he said finally. /I feel so useless… and I hate it./ He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. /I hate it./

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Back in his own quarters, Voldemort found himself unable to concentrate on his work at all, and once again, it was because of that boy.

It had been a mistake to reach that far into Potter's mind and Voldemort admitted that he was not prepared for it. For a brief second just then, he was deep within Potter's mind and was confronted with the boy's deepest feelings; feelings he suspected that even Potter himself was not aware of.

Guilt. Voldemort had sensed that from Potter since the day the boy had come to join him. But now accompanying that guilt was an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Voldemort had no idea that Potter was feeling this… trapped. But considering what the boy had been doing, it was probably not surprising.

Potter had run himself into a corner, without anyway out. All the ways were blocked from him, one by one. He blamed that on his own recklessness… and his own stupidity.

Voldemort tried not to let Potter's feelings affect him and focused on the situation at hand. The Cruciatus Curse.

It seemed that Potter had been suppressing his anger and frustration for some time… and once the ram of his emotions came lose, coupled with the use of dark magic, it was no surprise that he had lost control of his own magic.

He would have loved to tell Dumbledore what his golden boy had done, but not this time.

Voldemort could still recall the moment when he was in Potter's mind, surrounded by all kinds of dark emotions. It was not what he had expected to see at all. The boy's mind was… dark, in his own way, as if all the 'light' had been chased away by all the boy had experienced in the past few months.

It was the same as the time when Potter first called him 'Lord'. It was all wrong. It was not something that the stubborn boy should do to himself, not for anything… not for him.

His train of thoughts stopped at that point, as it had every time when Potter came to his mind. But unlike the other times, he couldn't bring himself to feel annoyed at Potter for causing all his problems, nor could he simply push away his disturbing thoughts and go back to his work. Instead, Voldemort found himself walking over to his bedside drawer.

He found what he was looking for quickly. Inside that drawer, abandoned on the side, was a silver necklace with a glowing crystal attached to it. It looked the same as it had been when he tore it from Potter's neck that day. The same, in fact, as it had been more than fifty years ago.

Voldemort reached for the necklace, only to withdraw his hand the moment he touched the glowing crystal. The crystal was red hot, as if the magic in it was boiling in anger.

Voldemort closed the drawer after a last glance at the brightly glowing crystal. He didn't know what had made him check on it now. Despite how powerful he might have been back then, he had still been a child. The existence of that necklace was the proof of how childish he had once been. Then why was he bothered by the fact that the crystal had repelled him, even more vigorously than before?

An answer was starting to form at the back of his mind, but he refused to search deeply for it. Perhaps he knew then, it was an answer that he would never be ready for.

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A/N: A rather depressing chapter, no? Things are coming together now. We'll see Snape again in the next chapter. He's finally going to find out what the son of James Potter has done.

On a side note, I've posted a post-HBP one shot The Road to Hell. It is, once again, about Tom Riddle. It's not related to this fic in any sense, but if you're interested, you can find it in my profile.