Chapter 61
In the eye of the storm
Harry was, so far, the luckier of the two as he only bumped his left shin on the stone floor, surviving the rest of the fall unscathed. Last but not least because he had the former professor as an involuntary cushion under his body.
When the fall came to an end, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of a short, yet steep flight of stairs, Harry carefully rolled off the potions master, intent on disentangling his limbs as carefully as possible from Snape's, so he wouldn't have to touch him more than necessary. Snape was not a touch-me-person in the best of times; in this situation, it would make him livid as hell.
"Professor?" he whispered gently, while he struggled back up on his knees, pushing his slightly askew glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. His shin sent a spike of red-hot pain up his leg. He sucked in his breath in a hiss and started to gently finger the aching bone. Thankfully, nothing appeared to be broken, only bruised, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell at the moment. Still, the pain would ebb away fast. He had learned that only too well with his cousin's constant harassment. He shifted his attention from his leg to Snape. The man was barely conscious, but was already beginning to stir and moan softly.
„Professor? Are you all right?" asked Harry, worried. Please, don't let him be hurt again, he pleaded inwardly. The man had been punished and was suffering more than enough as it was. Not long ago, Harry would probably have laughed his butt off if anyone had told him that he'd ever worry about Snape, but today this was exactly what he did, and it didn't seem so absurd anymore to care about his former teacher's well-being. Allowing those feelings did help to soothe his conscience a bit, after all.
The Potions Master groaned again as he lifted the hand not carrying his wand (which had survived the fall still attached to his other hand) and carefully rubbed the back of his head.
„Professor?" Harry asked again, but then a noise from the twilight of the dark corridor behind them caught his attention.
Something was moving and he heard a hissing sound. Over there, at the far end just before the corridor took a turn, he could make out two dark silhouettes. He narrowed his eyes, but instantly reopened them again in wide shock, as he heard a terrible voice speaking: "Welcome to in our realm, Harry Potter. Have you come to vanquish me? Well then, follow me, so we can settle it once and for all, who of us is the more powerful wizard."
„Voldemort," Harry breathed.
„What did he say?" asked a hoarse voice from beside him. He looked at Snape, who was struggling into a sitting position, and realized that Voldemort must have spoken Parseltongue. He hadn't paid attention to that before.
„He has challenged me," Harry whispered. „Wants to settle the ‚affair' once and for all."
A second figure joined the first now, but that person's features, too, stayed hidden in the dark. He laughed softly before both of them disappeared behind the bend.
„That was Malfoy!" hissed Snape. „After them, Potter, or they will escape."
„Professor, are you all right? Perhaps we should wait for the others..."
Snape dismissed his concern with a harsh gesture of his hand. „No time. I'm fine. I will be right behind you. Now get moving."
Harry didn't hesitate much longer. Snape was right. By the time he had notified the rest of the Order and the Aurors, Voldemort and Malfoy would be long gone. With a last glance at the empty passage and at Snape, who was still busy scrambling to his feet, he ran after Malfoy and Voldemort. He could not see them but he heard their fading steps echo behind the turn of the corridor. In the bend, he paused for an instant when he heard hasty steps approaching him from behind. He turned around and looked at a very angry and panting Snape who was trying to keep up with him on his chase after the two dark wizards.
„Professor, are you really all right?" Harry asked once more.
„Look where you're going, Potter!" Snape barked angrily.
Harry surveyed his former potions teacher with a last doubting glance before he turned around and spurted off again. If matters had not been so serious and – at least indirectly – his fault, seeing Snape like this would almost have been comical. His purposeful eyes, which seemed to glow from his inner hate and anger, didn't really go with the image of a Snape with ruffled, short hair, cord-attached wand and the crumpled cloak – a result of his fall. And still, his expression was closer to the ‚old' Snape than Harry had seen in a long time. And as for barking out orders, he could apparently do just as well as before ...
Harry smirked to himself, less from amusement, than from relief. Their old Snape seemed to come back little by little after all. The grin died upon his lips, however, as his forward movement came to an abrupt halt at a massive looking wall, which was cutting off the corridor.
„Potter, run through it. It isn't real!" Snape panted, while he slowly caught up to him.
Normally, Snape's words of advice, no matter the context, would not be something Harry would have cared to trust, but after what had happened during the last few months he didn't dare to hesitate. Strangely enough he didn't want Snape to get even angrier at him than he already was. Harry blamed it on his guilt. He still couldn't bring himself to feel any more sympathy for the potions master than he had done in his fourth year. Only he had partly lost the right to openly display this antipathy. Especially if – even though he himself couldn't really believe it – Sirius was right about Snape's psyche. So he just nodded and ran towards the wall, hoping that the older wizard's assessment of the situation was correct . Just before he was about to collide with the - very solid- looking - wall, he closed his eyes and couldn't stop balking slightly, however, he didn't crash into the smooth surface his eyes told him must be there, but only stumbled through empty air.
No matter how often he had already crossed the false wall at Kings Cross, he would never get used to running headfirst into a solid wall of bricks only to feel nothing. Even if that wasn't totally correct here. He did feel something this time. It was merely a split second in which he felt a squeezing sensation take root in his belly, but still, it made his insides churn and the hair on the back of his neck rise. All in all, it was the same feeling he had once experienced when his cousin had forced him to watch a particularly ghastly horror movie. In the scene with the eerie music as the unsuspecting victim stepped into the darkened apartment, not knowing that the murderer was already waiting there, knife at the ready. A feeling of absolute knowledge that something terrible was about to happen.
However, the sensation disappeared just as fast as it had come, and, with a mental shudder, Harry broke through the false wall.
The room, into which he now stumbled, was a richly decorated office with baroque and terribly expensive-looking furniture, high windows on one side and a marble floor, polished as smooth as glass. At the same time, it was at least the size of the entire Gryffindor common room. However, Harry only fleetingly took notice of it and hardly registered Snape coming to stand beside him. He was mostly concentrated on Malfoy senior and Voldemort, who stood side by side in front of a huge mahogany desk, wands raised.
Harry didn't hesitate for more than a second, before he lifted his own wand. „Expelliarmus!" he screamed, wondering at the same time why none of his enemies made any move to defend themselves. They only sneered at him with an expression of sick satisfaction on their faces.
He got the answer to this puzzle straight away, as he realised with dread that his curse didn't show any effect at all, except for a short, blue flaring-up of a light bubble that engulfed both dark wizards entirely, and a noise as if someone was stepping on a heap of shards.
„Stupefy!" Harry tried again, and once more, his only reward was the blue gleaming and the same, sickening noise.
Voldemort and Lucius were still holding their wands at the ready but strangely enough they didn't point them at either Harry or Snape, and Malfoy's sneer widened into an evil smirk.
„What the hell is this?" Harry exclaimed, instinctively turning around to the person who had come to pursue the dark wizards with him. Surely Snape could tell him what this shield of sorts was. But then, his breath caught in his throat as he gazed at the potions master behind him. Snape stood there, rigid like a log, both of his arms pressed to his sides, his eyes absurdly wide, his yaw slack. His gloved fingers were uncurled, and his wand would certainly have fallen to the ground, were it not tied to his hand. But what really shocked Harry to the core was the uncovered horror in Snape's eyes, while he stared at the two dark wizards like he was hypnotized. The man didn't move one millimetre, and Harry wasn't even certain he breathed at all.
„Nice help you brought, Harry!" Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue, and Harry turned away from the frightening sight of Snape, back to Voldemort, whose voice sounded as if he was talking through a wall of glass.
„Too much a coward to face me without a shield, Voldemort?" Harry answered in English. He had no intention of playing along with Voldemort's games.
„Oh, don't be impatient my dear boy. My Death Eaters will delay your Muggle-loving friends long enough. We have all time in the world. As long as I hold this magical shield, you will not be able to reach me, be it physically or magically. But alas, the same applies to me, unfortunately."
„And why then this charade, if we both can't attack? Sooner or later, the Aurors will find this room!" Harry said angrily.
Voldemort only laughed „Hello Severus," he said instead, addressing the potions master. „You have recovered well, I see."
Harry turned back around to Snape, who hadn't moved a muscle yet. Harry wondered again what the hell was wrong with Snape. And then he saw. Snape's whole body trembled. The fingers of his hand shook so hard it was clearly visible, even through the black leather gloves, and his eyes still were wide open but seemed unable to really perceive anything apart from some inner terror.
„Professor Snape?" Harry asked carefully. He'd never thought to ever see the feared potions master like this. Like a rabbit in front of a snake. Petrified by the knowledge of his own impending death.
„Don't waste your breath, Harry," Voldemort said. „He is beyond the ability to hear you."
Harry shook his head in mute denial but he was incapable of tearing his gaze away from the miserable picture of his former professor. This wasn't right. Snape had been so angry, after all. He had wanted to kill Malfoy. So why didn't he move now? Hadn't this been the very reason why he had come along?
„What have you done with him?" he whispered more than he spoke, his eyes still on the man behind him.
Voldemort laughed coldly. "Not much. You may have noticed the waft of dark magic, crossing the false wall, didn't you? Lately, our poor Severus here has been in quite some proximity of dark magic. Indeed, one could even dare to say that he was drenched in it. I fear this new activating spell has triggered some old…Experiences… in his memory."
„Snape, come here!" Malfoy ordered in a clear, loud voice.
Harry just thought that Malfoy couldn't seriously expect Snape to follow that command. He was more shocked when a violent shudder ran through Snape's whole body before he took a hesitating step forwards, straight towards the two dark wizards.
„Professor Snape? What is wrong with you?" Harry urged, as Snape stepped up beside him, his eyes fixed on Malfoy and apparently very intent on following the order. He looked like a puppet on a string, or a wizard under 'Imperius'. „SNAPE!" Harry yelled now, half desperate, half angry at the inexpressiveness, which was the only thing, apart from the terror, that shone from the man's black orbs. Harry's scream brought a short flicker into Snape's eyes and, for a split second, he seemed to hesitate as if fighting an invisible force.
„Severus Snape. You belong to us. Come here and kneel before your master or you will regret it, I swear!" Malfoy proclaimed loudly.
Another shudder ripped through Snape. He lowered his eyes, shutting them tightly, and bit his lower lip until Harry could make out fresh blood colouring his teeth. Snape seemed to struggle for another second. Then he took some slow steps forward until only a few metres separated him from his former master. Voldemort, too, made a couple of steps toward the invisible shield. That movement was all it took to make Snape flinch violently, before he let himself fall to the ground, touching the marble with his forehead. His whole body was shaking in sheer terror.
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. What the heck were they doing with Snape? As he looked at the pathetic, trembling wreck at Voldemort's feet, cowering in front of the two dark wizards, Harry's chest constricted. This was just sick!
„See, Lucius? A perfect little slave, just like I told you," Voldemort addressed Malfoy, who was smirking in satisfaction. „He's not able to disobey us, no matter how hard he tries."
Malfoy now looked at Harry. „You must forgive us, Potter, but once we saw that Severus was with you, we couldn't help but verify whether we had indeed managed to break him for good. Remarkable, what you can do to a human mind with well-directed torture and manipulation, combined with the right amount of dark magic. You can basically mould one's psyche anew."
„This is abominable," whispered Harry, while his eyes travelled from the man on the ground to Voldemort with disgust.
„But no, my dear Harry. It is perfect. Sometimes you must be cruel to be kind. Severus has betrayed me and I should have killed him. However, I wanted to give him one more chance. His subconsciousness is already programmed to Lucius' and my voice and after another two weeks of training with Lucius, he will be completely broken and with no will of his own, reaching no farther than his desire to please us." The moment Voldemort mentioned a new 'training' with Lucius, Snape made a few, almost inaudible whimpering sounds, which cut through Harry's heart. What they were doing with Snape was absolutely barbaric, and in this very moment, Harry realized that Sirius had been right all along.
„I don't want to lose his talent for potions, you know. Indeed, I have great plans for him. After all, it is much more efficient and easier to kill large groups of Muggles with poison than through raids. And Severus will be happier for it too, in the end. Under my paternal guidance he'll know of no more personal worries or hard choices."
Harry couldn't find any words for this travesty. It just made him sick to his stomach. „We'll see about that. I won't allow you to kill more people."
Voldemort tore his almost inebriated gaze from the cowering potions master and his eyes grew hard again. "Harry Potter," he hissed dangerously. "You have thwarted my plans over and over again. But this will stop here and now, because today you will die!" A motion with his hand and the shield around him and Malfoy glowed once more in a deep azure-blue, before cracks began to form and grow into a spider web of white, jagged lines, wandering in an abstract pattern over the whole surface. With a loud clanking noise, the shield burst apart into thousands of shards which all evaporated in small, puffing blue clouds before they had flown more than a few centimetres.
„Crucio!"Harry had been expecting the curse and ducked out of the line of fire. Still in a squatting position, he levelled his own wand and yelled: „Expelliarmus!"
Voldemort's wand flew through the air and landed in a dark corner with a hollow 'clonk'. His serpent-like eyes widened in surprise as he realized that he had under-estimated Harry's reaction and his speed. Harry smirked with satisfaction. Years of being a seeker, a lively interest and extra training hours in Defence Against the Dark Arts could do wonder to one's reflexes.
„Petrificus totalus!"
Instantly, Harry's limbs snapped together and he couldn't move anymore. He felt himself starting to sway, then tilt to the side, but couldn't do a thing to regain his equilibrium. Like in slow motion he felt himself beginning to fall, before the floor rushed up to meet him. A sharp flare of pain raced up his shoulder as it connected hard with the unforgiving floor. He cursed himself for his foolishness. For a moment he had completely forgotten about Malfoy. He tried to struggle against it but the spell didn't let him move as little as one single muscle. He couldn't even force his eyelids closed, and his eyes started to water at his attempt. A few metres in front of him, Snape was still cowering on the ground. Harry wanted to call to him, will him to get up and help, but the muscles of his mouth , too, were beyond his control as a result of the curse. He felt panic starting to take root in his heart and stomach. He was completely exposed to Voldemort's power. Alone against two powerful dark wizards. Why did he follow them all alone in the first place? No, he hadn't been alone. But who could have guessed that Snape wouldn't be of any help to him. He felt a small spark of anger, anger with which he could cover his growing fear. Come on, Snape, he called in his mind. Up with you. Go get your bloody revenge. And while you're at it, free me from this bloody petrification.
However, nothing happened. Apart from the trembling and the occasional, almost inaudible whimpering, Snape still didn't move. No, Harry couldn't hope to get help from him.
„Not bad Potter, not bad," Voldemort's voice resounded from somewhere near his feet, and then he heard the low squeaking of soft leather-soled boots as Voldemort approached, coming to a halt between him and Snape and thus moving into his line of sight once again.
„Unfortunately, your Gryffindor stupidity has let you forget to keep all your enemies in mind. How overly brainless of you. Accio, wand." Voldemort's wand came flying in an elegant arch and landed in his outstretched hand.
Voldemort smiled evilly down at Harry. „I would take great pleasure in hearing you scream, my dear Harry. Alas, after you have already inconvenienced me so often before, always finding a way to escape my wrath, it would be foolish of me to let you live longer than necessary. So then, farewell, Harry Potter." With a satisfied glimmer in his eyes he pointed his wand at Harry and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
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