DISCLAIMER: It's J.K. Rowling's world, I'm just playing in it.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm playing around with this idea, and have a general outline figured out. I've never published a fanfic before, mostly just written on the side for fun. I can't guarantee all the tiny details of the HP world will be fully accounted for, so if you catch anything that doesn't reflect canon just chalk it up to being AU! If anyone's interested in being a beta DM me :D
This story takes place during HBP, and picks up directly after Harry casts the Sectumsempra on Draco.
On with the show...
CHAPTER ONE: Sectumsempra
Harry ran through the corridors of Hogwarts. His mind replayed with acute clarity the scene he'd just fled—Draco lying on the floor, bleeding profusely, the Potions Master slowly trailing his wand above the prone boy's wounds and humming that melodic counterspell. Harry had never heard of a counterspell that required song before. He wondered about that, then thought he was perhaps entering a state of shock if his primary thought at the moment was of something so trivial.
He'd almost killed Draco Malfoy. He'd almost killed him. Though Snape had found them before the Sectumpsempra had finished its job, Harry knew without a doubt that Draco would be dead now if it weren't for the professor's impeccable timing.
Harry somehow found himself on the seventh floor without knowing quite how he'd gotten there. He wondered idly whether he'd passed many students on the way up as he performed the required pacing that would allow him entrance to the Room of Requirement. As the doors opened, Harry found himself gazing into a deep cupboard. He shook his head wryly as he climbed in and shut the door behind him, immediately drawing his knees to his chest and holding his head in his hands. Just like his cupboard on 4 Privet Drive, the light from the outside gleamed underneath the doorframe, allowing him to faintly see the outline of his own body in the dark. He couldn't help but feel his mind echoing the same sorts of things his 10-year old self would say after Vernon had thrown him inside the enclosed space.
You deserve this. Look what you did. No wonder they don't want you. It would be better not to exist.
Over the years, Harry had matured enough to realize that the Dursley's treatment of him wasn't warranted, that his magic was normal for a wizard and they shouldn't have punished him for it. He'd gotten good at shoving those unwanted thoughts away after he'd gone to Hogwarts, even cultivating a righteous anger at the way his relatives had acted and spoken toward him. Now, though, Harry couldn't help but agree with the self-deprecating thoughts that came rushing into his mind. No wonder the Room of Requirement had conjured this space for him.
You almost killed Draco Malfoy. You could go to Azkaban. You should go to Azkaban. No one will forgive you for this. You deserve everything you get.
His breathing came sharp and ragged. He replayed the scene over and over, his heart racing in panic. He tried to Occlude, but it was a futile effort. He'd never been able to master that particular art, and cursed himself now for not trying harder when he'd had the chance.
At the reminder of his failed Occlumency lessons, an image of the Potions Master coming upon him and Draco in the bathroom, his eyes resting upon Harry with such deep anger—and indeed, disappointment—filled Harry's mind. He felt a strong sense of shame overcome him. He hadn't thought it possible to actually disappoint Snape, given how little the professor regarded him. Harry had figured that there was nothing he could do, no act of willful disobedience or careless deed, that would surprise the man. To stoop low enough that the professor would actually feel disappointment at something Harry had done surely meant that his action must be unforgivable.
What was that spell doing in a 6th year Potions textbook anyway? He tried to conjure up some indignation at this, but couldn't make himself feel any better. He had well and truly messed up.
Harry didn't know how long he'd been there when suddenly a missive popped into existence before him and fell to the floor. The room conjured a soft light that faded into existence above him as he reached for the letter, prompting him to read.
Harry,
Your presence is required in my office immediately. The password is Fizzing Whizbees. Do not delay.
Headmaster Dumbledore
With shaking hands, Harry crumpled the note in his hand. Knowing it wouldn't do to keep the headmaster waiting, he emerged from the cupboard, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and made the slow trek to the headmaster's office, his head hanging low.
He arrived at the tower much too soon. Professor McGonagall's distinct Irish brogue echoed down the staircase as he slowly ascended.
"…just simply unacceptable! I cannot allow you to do this!"
"The boy is utterly undisciplined," Snape said, his voice biting. "No doubt a result of those useless Muggles giving him free reign to do whatever he bloody well pleases, no matter who it harms."
He felt his ire rise. It never ceased to amaze Harry how deeply Snape misunderstood him. He bit his cheek to force himself quiet.
"Those Muggles are horrid." McGonagall spat. "They don't treat the boy well." Harry felt briefly vindicated, though it did not last. "But I agree he is undisciplined. I should have kept a closer eye on him this year." He couldn't help but feel hurt at that.
"Indeed, you should have." Snape said.
Harry reached the top of the staircase and paused to listen.
"However," McGonagall replied tartly, "I cannot agree to the solution you're proposing. It's utterly preposterous, Albus!"
"I realize, Minerva, that this would not be your choice," the headmaster said. "Yet I agree with Severus. This year is more pivotal than any other. War is upon us. If the boy does not learn from his mistakes now, he will not learn at all. And I find that Severus' proposal has potential to benefit us in more ways than one."
There was a brief silence. Suddenly the door swung open and Harry found himself staring into the grim eyes of the Potions Master. Embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping, Harry dropped his eyes. He grew more nervous when Snape didn't even bother to chastise or sneer at him, but merely moved aside to let Harry pass. The door clicked behind him ominously as he shuffled toward the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore was seated there, his hands folded carefully together, utterly still. McGonagall stood to the side of the room, her arms crossed. Snape joined her, barely sparing Harry a glance as he turned his attention to Dumbledore. Harry managed to look at Dumbledore only a second before his gaze again fell to the floor.
Harry felt like the silence stretched for an eternity. He was keenly aware of the tick of a clock and Fawkes' occasional coos, and marveled distantly at the normalcy of these things. If only he could rewind the clock so that he'd never followed Malfoy into the bathroom. If only he'd listened to his friends when they'd told him to let it go.
"I think it's best that we start at the beginning." Dumbledore said, his voice sounding heavy. "I have seen Professor Snape's memory, but I would like to hear from you what occurred."
Harry chanced a glance at the headmaster. His eyes were kind, but stern. "Don't you want my memory too, sir?"
"Let us determine that after you have relayed the events, Harry."
It took everything within Harry to begin his account. More than anything, he wanted to forget what had happened, to banish the sight of Draco bleeding out on the bathroom floor at Harry's own hand. In stilted words, he told Dumbledore that he'd followed Draco because the boy had been acting suspiciously. He came upon Draco crying in the bathroom and accused him of cursing Katie Bell—Snape made a derisive sound at this—which ultimately started their fight. Harry had only resorted to the Sectumsempra after Draco had started the Cruciatus curse.
"I didn't know what the curse would do, sir. Honestly." Harry said. "I… if I had known, I never would have done it."
"Is that supposed to be an apology, Potter?" Snape spat.
Harry turned angry eyes to the Potions Master. "I am sorry. Not that you believe me." He muttered.
"Oh if you're not now, you soon will be." Snape's voice was nothing short of a promise. Harry shuddered inside, his mind recalling the conversation he'd heard on the way up the stairs.
"Severus." McGonagall hissed disapprovingly.
Snape spared her a brief glance before addressing Harry again. "You will meet me in my office at 8:00 this evening where you will begin to face the consequences for your horrendous decision-making. You will bring your trunk with you. Make sure all of your belongings are packed inside. You will not complain, and you will not be late."
Harry looked between his professors in confusion. "My trunk? I don't understand."
"Your punishment will be explained to you tonight, Potter." Snape said. "Just do as you are told, for once in your life."
Harry barely had a chance to blink before Snape had swept out the door. He felt a deep chill of foreboding creep down his spine as he shifted his gaze between the two remaining professors. His anxiety must have shown on his face, because McGonagall stepped in front of him then and placed her hand comfortingly on his shoulder.
"You have made some poor choices today, Mr. Potter."
Harry's face flushed, partly in embarrassment and partly in anger. "But Draco—"
"Draco, too, has made his bed and he shall lie in it. When he recuperates, that is." She amended. Something of Harry's distress must have shown in his face, then, for her stern eyes softened a touch. "Harry. The rules of Hogwarts are quite clear on this, try as I might to contest them. Using Dark magic is egregious enough, but when it results in attempted murder by an underage student against a student of another House, the punishment is determined by the offended party's Housemaster."
"Dark magic?! Attempted murder?!" Harry gasped. "Professor, I swear, I didn't mean to! I didn't even know what the spell did!"
McGonagall pursued her lips, her hand tightening on Harry's shoulder briefly. "The castle knows, Potter. The Founders built this sort of justice magic into the stones itself. There is truly nothing I can do."
"But… but Snape!" Harry cried, his breathing growing ragged. "He hates me! He won't act justly, professor! I'm..." Harry gulped. "I'm afraid of what he'll do."
"Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore said pointedly, his eyebrows rising pointedly at the appellation. "The professor is under the same mandates as any other staff member of this school when it comes to disciplining students. He cannot harm you unduly, nor will the castle allow him to act unjustly in the matter of resolving this particular issue."
Harry felt a peculiar mix of despair, resignation, and terror settle over him. The bat of the dungeons, a man who perhaps hated him even more than the Dursleys did, would be assigning the punishment for what was undoubtedly the worst thing he had ever done.
I did almost kill someone. He thought to himself. I probably deserve whatever happens to me.
McGonagall patted his shoulder twice before letting him go. "Listen to Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Potter." She gave him a significant look. "And listen to Professor Snape. Don't get yourself into anymore trouble this year. Take this time to reflect on why it is that we don't utter unknown spells without first knowing exactly what they do. Whatever punishment Professor Snape sets, know that it could be much, much worse. Now come. I shall escort you back to the tower so you can gather your things."
Harry felt panic seize his chest again. "I'm not being expelled, am I?"
"No, Mr. Potter." McGonagall reassured him.
"Then what's going to happen to me?"
"The Housemaster of the offended party both sets and pronounces the punishment, Harry." Dumbledore said. "All will be explained to you this evening. But rest assured, you will survive this. And perhaps even come out stronger for it."
Harry clenched his fists and dug his fingernails into his palms to prevent himself from making a snarky retort. Dumbledore looked at him knowingly. "Go now with Professor McGonagall. And please remember, Harry, that we are here for you if you have need. Within the limits of the castle's justice magic, of course." He added. "And we shall continue our own lessons, as well. I will be in touch in a couple of days."
Harry trailed behind Professor McGonagall in a daze, feeling with increasing certainty that things in his life were about to change drastically.