5.
It was ages before the common room cleared out. Harry kept an iron gasp on his patience as Colin Creevy rechecked the same potions essay for the fourth time. Now that the little bugger had finally headed to bed, Harry reckoned it was time to act.
"I thought he'd never leave," Harry grumbled.
"We really will have to tell your mum to lend him a hand with extra lessons," Ron joked.
Harry smirked back at his friend. The three had devised the perfect plan for the Slytherins. It involved a bit of luck, a fair amount of stealth and quite a number of crushed Alihotsy leaves, which Neville had been able to provide from his parents' garden. Yes indeed, while that prat Draco might not yet have gotten a chance to pay Harry back for his little stunt in Potions, it would only be a matter of time. Better to strike first, Harry had told his friends, than wait for a reprisal. Ron and Neville had quickly agreed.
The three packed up their school work and exchanged grins. The trio rose, fully intending to leave the common room.
Neville wasn't nervous. He'd gotten over that particular feeling years ago. While he knew he'd be just as happy playing Exploding Snap, sneaking around the castle at night was an adventure. If Neville were honest with himself, he knew that his two best mates' pranking had grown on him.
Ron smiled back at Neville, excitement clear on his face. There were few pleasures in life Ron enjoyed so throughly as messing with the Slytherins.
And then it happened. Neville was startled from his thoughts when he noticed a great white light quickly spreading across the common room. It moved too quickly to see the source, and before he knew it the light had come and gone in what seemed like the blink of an eye. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them of the dots now swimming across his vision.
When Neville lowered his hands, he was alone.
XXXXX
Across the castle Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a rather good cup of tea in the solitude of his office.
The headmaster firmly believed in the importance of self reflection, of allotting time to simply gather ones thoughts. Another term had just begun; his pupils and staff alike were settling in just fine. There was less excitement to be had now that the Weasley twins had left them after completing their second round of seventh year courses. It truly wouldn't be the same without their pranking antics, though Albus suspected the mischievous Griffyndor trio would be taking up that particular torch.
But it was terribly late, or rather terribly early, and Albus had been up for several hours worrying about things far beyond the hallowed halls of his beloved school.
Voldemort was on the move.
Albus was no fool. He knew Tom was lying low for a reason. From what Kingsley had reported, Death Eater infiltration was creeping closer and closer to the minister, unseen by the public. Severus had likewise confirmed the Dark Lord was making plans to move beyond simply murdering in secret. All the signs were pointing to a true crisis. Over the past thirty years Dumbledore had been able to thwart Riddle's various bids for a total political takeover, but he had come to realize it was only a matter of time before Wizarding Britain voted in one of Tom's puppets. Once the Ministry of Magic fell into Tom's twisted hands it was only a matter of time before open war was upon them.
It was a heavy burden at times, being responsible for the safety and rights of the Wizarding world. Albus sighed. "A savior indeed," he murmured to himself. For the first time in several years the headmaster's thoughts wandered to the prophecy. He had been so certain Sybil's prediction was truthful. It had filled him with a strange sort of dreaded hope. Albus wished desperately for a way to stop Tom's inescapable rise. At the same time, however, he was in the unique situation to appreciate that no one could truly understand the burden being a real threat to a dark lord placed upon one's shoulders. No one person should have to carry that terrible burden. In any event, the prophecy had come to nothing. It had been essentially forgotten by everyone but Albus himself.
The headmaster's musings were interrupted by his guardian gargoyle's warning chime. "Enter," he called. Severus Snape had already begun to slip inside. His steps were too sure, as though he was expending a tremendous amount of effort to walk normally. Albus could see the telltale signs his friend had been subject to Tom's company.
Severus lowered himself into the chair opposite Albus's desk. His hands were shaking. When Severus realized the headmaster was looking at them he quickly shoved his fists into the folds of his robe. There was a moment of silence and Severus was glad for the opportunity to collect himself. Not that he would ever thank the old man.
"Something to drink? Strong, perhaps?" Albus opened.
Severus shook his head. "I will be fine. It was not I that was subject to his tender mercies."
Albus knew it was useless to offer condolences. His old friend had little use for what he saw as platitudes. He blazed on. "You are late. He asked you to stay after?"
"Yes," Snape said. "It was for a trifling matter." At Albus' silence he continued, "He inquired about your health. The Dark Lord is apparently hoping you'll drop dead of old age sooner rather than later."
Albus smiled. "It would be lovely to die a natural death, wouldn't it? I can think of few finer ways for one to die."
Severus snorted. "If I didn't know better I would say he seemed rather. . . cheerful. Nothing else seemed amiss beyond his mood. I don't doubt he's closing in on whatever it is he's planning, but even Lucius was unusually tight lipped tonight."
"Is his trust in you waining?" Albus asked.
"No. If he suspected, the Dark Lord would not hesitate to kill me, even at the expense of the misinformation he believes me to feed you."
"Well then we will simply have to keep our ears open more attentively than usual." Albus said. "I don't suppose you have-"
Both men started at the red light that flashed and the high pitched whine that followed.
With a quick glance at Severus, Albus stood and swept toward the door. He closed his eyes briefly at the door. "The Astronomy Tower," he said and Severus nodded. The intruder alarm was but one of Hogwarts' methods of contacting the headmaster. The pair raced down the circular staircase and quickly headed for the tallest of all the castle's towers.
XXXXX
Neville was running, sprinting down the corridor toward the headmaster's office. It hadn't occurred to him to contact his head of house. When the two boys he cared most about had disappeared in the blink of an eye Neville had panicked and sought the most powerful wizard he could think of to help.
When he saw both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape sprinting down another corridor he turned to follow them without thought. So consumed was Neville with thoughts of his friends, he didn't bother to question his notion that the two teachers were headed to find them.
The sight at the top of the Astronomy Tower stopped all both professors in their tracks. Severus was frozen in silence. There, before him, were the bodies of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. But they were unlike the boys Severus had seen in his defense class earlier that very day.
Potter was lying closer to them. He was deathly pale, his robe parted to reveal a naked torso. Most worryingly, he was drenched in blood. But as serious injured as Lily's son appeared, Ron Weasley was infinitely worse. The boy's clearly broken legs were bent at gut wrenching angles. He too was covered in blood, but it only some of it seemed fresh. It was caked on his naked chest, covered in bruises, cuts, burns, sores and human excrement. The smell was horrendous. Severus could see there were no nails on his left hand. Upon closer inspection Weasley seemed to be missing an ear. And there was a great scar that ran the width of his neck. It was cherry red, as though it had just been healed.
A gasp sounded out behind them, and Albus swiftly moved forward toward the bodies on the floor while Severus turned around to see a pale, shaking Neville.
"Go, wake Madam Pomfrey. Tell her two gravely injured boys will be there shortly." After a beat in which Neville did not move, Severus raised his voice and snarled, "Longbottom! Now!"
Neville wrenched his eyes away from the motionless forms and turned, fleeing from the ghastly scene behind him. Severus watched him go and swiftly moved toward Albus, who was bent over Potter.
"It appears as though he's been stabbed in the heart," Albus said. "You have blood replenisher with you?" Severus nodded, he never attended a Death Eater meeting without an array of potions. "Good," Albus said. "Please spell it into his stomach." The headmaster turned toward Weasley and Snape knelt down to administer the potion.
Once the blood replenisher was spelled into Potter's stomach, Snape scourgified some of the blood from the boy's chest. Snape's eyes narrowed. Potter had a scar on his chest. As Albus said, it looked as if he had been stabbed in the heart. But like Weasley's, the flesh was bright red, as though it had been recently healed.
Severus glanced over his shoulder. Albus was continuing to stabilize Weasley so he turned back to Potter. Snape looked at his face. This boy appeared older than 17. He had numerous cuts and quite a few small scars on his neck and upper torso. Severus' gaze moved to the boy's face. His hair was long, much longer than it had been in defense class that afternoon. The hair wasn't uniform in length however, it was dirty and though pulled back much of it had come free and was tangled around his face. Severus reached forward and swept a chunk of lock from the boy's forehead. His lips parted in surprise at another scar on the boy's forehead. It reeked of dark magic. A curse scar. As though under a compulsion, Severus reached forward to brush it with his fingers. Suddenly, without warning, emerald eyes shot open, meeting Severus' black ones with surprise.
The boy uttered one sentence, "It. . . . worked."
