Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Hi everyone! Last chapter didn't get as many reactions as I hoped to get, sadly. My dear readers and reviewers, please don't let me down so close to the end! I need your support to push me to finish this story! *puppy eyes*
Cherrie-san: Good point. Marvolo's explosive temper wouldn't work well with annoying and needy children. Hopefully, if it comes to that (because who knows how this story will end?), Harry will be there to calm everybody down...^^'
Kumo: There were actually lots of wards and traps in the grave, but it was limited because of its public location and Moody deactivated the whole thing. I just didn't want to pass a long time showing everything he did in preparation to his attempt, but what we saw is just the last bit when he did manage to gain access to the tomb. Hehe, I loved your *awkward put under covers tender moment* It does describe it well :D
Summary of previous chapter: Moody is up to some shady grave-digging, Harry takes up his new ward research project to block the Dark Magic intoxication, war with France is brewing and the paper planes made a comeback in the story.
Chapter 48: 20th of February 1998: Getting better before getting worse
Greetings, militants acting illegally under my regime,
It has come to my recent attention that your movement might not be as grateful as I expected it to be for my generosity in allowing it to pursue its course. It has also failed to fulfill the role I allocated it.
Do not be surprised by this. The raison d'être of your group happens to concord with the direction I want Britain to take in the future. You have rightfully put a finger on two major issues I am working on eradicating; that is, the corruption and nepotism in the Ministry, and the inequality of treatment between my citizens. I let you push for your new legislations and win your cases when I felt you were in the right. As you can see, I am not unreasonable. I recognise that there are still major flaws in the current government system and seek to resolve them, with your help. I only wish for a safer and stronger Britain and, if my methods sometimes differ from yours, it does not mean that compromises cannot be found, or that our points of views are irreconcilable.
Alas, despite how promising your movement might or might not be, I am afraid I simply cannot let behaviours such as the one that threatened the life of my young companion run unchecked. As it is, poor Harry is still very much affected by his short contact with members of your organisation. Administration of any potentially lethal poison, regardless of the poison's side effects when absorbed in minimal quantities (truth-saying, in this precise case), is strictly prohibited by anyone except the Aurors in an official investigation or by anyone with the authorisation of the higher echelons of the Ministry.
These are, indeed, dangerous waters you are threading in, and I find my patience and understanding with your movement dwindling and nearing an end. Unless, that is, you can swiftly convince me that you are repentant of your, I am sure, brief forays in illegality.
It has not escaped my notice that your movement hosts many former members of the Rebellion. I was, at first, pleased with your group facilitating their rehabilitation in society. With the recent developments, however, I find myself wondering if the pardons I had so gracefully granted to them had not been too lenient. Perhaps I should have chosen for them the Dementor's Kiss, as was the usual punishment for capital treason in the old Ministry.
If you want to prove me your good will, Bill Weasley, you will hold your companions in a tighter leash from now on, or I will have no choice but to change my mind about the former Rebels. In these days of rising international tensions, one cannot fault me for making sure that my realm is not rotten from the inside. Incidentally, I would like to point out that your loyalties would not be put in question anymore, should you and your comrades choose to join the militia for the defense of our beautiful country. It would beneficiate greatly from your talents, I am sure. While well advanced, the recruitment is going slower than expected. Perhaps that, with the contribution of your group and the solicitation that you will most likely do in your circles, the imposition of a conscription will not be as necessary as we feared. I am sure you can see how this arrangement would be beneficial for everyone involved.
You have one week to discuss among yourselves and reach a decision. I can only grant so many exceptions to the law for members of my 'opposition' if I seek to make my regime fairer, after all.
Please communicate my most gracious salutations to the daughters of the French Ambassador residing with you,
Lord Voldemort, Supreme Leader of Wizarding Britain
o0o0o
20th of February 1998, Slytherin Fortress
Time had passed and I was doing better every day, particularly so since I had moved back in with the Dark Lord.
I was now able to walk around normally, even if my one attempt at jogging had left me panting and nearly passing out a few dozen meters away from the Dark Lord's Fortress. I was taking things slowly, but balancing my time very carefully between my research on Neutralising wards, meditation and physical exercises and a tentative return to magical manipulation. I had dropped the idea of taking my NEWTs. I'd do that later when I had more time. I hadn't seen, or talked to Remus since our heated discussion about a month ago. I missed him, but I still felt somewhat cold about him giving information to Bill's group about me. And, speaking of them, I hadn't gone to a meeting there yet either. I had made arrangements for Neville to go there instead, and, as far as I could tell from his reports, everything was fine at the EFA meetings. Their efforts at the moment were focused on trying to prevent a conscription from being put in place preventively. When I had asked Marvolo if he really wanted to do that, he hadn't really been forthcoming, but he did say that he was using the rumours to his advantage to fast-forward war preparations by passing all sorts of regulations facilitating the growth of his militia. I wasn't implicated in the process, but I saw enough papers passing that I had an idea of how colossal the preparations were. Recruiting, training, building protections. Britain had never been has tightly fortified against an attack that today. From the limited History I knew, there hadn't been much international wars either, in great part because of Apparition and Portkey limits, but also because the different countries had a distinct type of ambient Magic that was grounded in their soil. Using your Magic in another country wasn't impossible, but it was distinctively harder and required more concentration and effort than in your homeland. I had personally never tried, but Marvolo had travelled around a lot when he was younger and he sometimes spoke of his experiences in the ancient wizarding communities around the Mediterranean Sea and in Asia and it was fascinating. We had even tentatively spoke of a potential trip in Greece for the summer and I quite liked having long term projects with him. It gave me the impression that we were building something durable, despite the multitude of factors against us. Not to mention that this was a good incentive to get better quicker.
One thing I had tried to implement ever since I had recovered some of my former strength was to go out more often and to try to go to magically Neutral places; like Hogwarts, for instance. I hadn't gone to classes or met any of the student there, but I had gone to Snape's office to discuss my warding project after the Dark Lord pointed out that Potions would probably support the wards, give them a more permanent state that wouldn't tire me to hold up and adapt it to me personally. And Snape, of course, was brilliant at what he did and easier to talk to when he wasn't attempting to teach me Potions.
.
That day, it was the third time I'd gone to Hogwarts to work on the warding project. I was a bit early, but I didn't have time to start anything in the half-hour remaining, so I just thought I'd go ahead and Floo in now, even if it meant that I'd wait for him to finish what he was doing before we could start. I could always re-read my notes again in the meanwhile.
When I stepped out of the Floo in Snape's office, however, I realised immediately that it was a bad idea. Snape had visitors; three students; three girls, to be more specific; one blond, one brown-haired and one redhead. Who would all know who I was, probably. I just hoped this wouldn't turn into a confrontation.
The Headmaster looked quite surprised to see me so soon, and not a little grim. I felt like a bird of ill omen, with the way he looked at me.
The brown-haired girl on the left turned around and she shot me a short disapproving glance before looking back at Snape.
"Don't you have to approve the incoming calls and people before they can arrive or see in your office, Headmaster? It certainly is that way at my adoptive family's home," she said primly. Who the heck did she think she was, telling Snape what his Floo should or shouldn't do?
Snape had a resigned sigh.
"Normally yes, but not when the person in question comes from the Dark Lord's Fortress," he answered in a weary voice.
The girl gasped and turned around to look at me again.
"Merlin's beard! You're Harry Potter!" She exclaimed. I couldn't tell if her reaction was positive or not.
Well, that was quick. The two other girls turned to look at me with widened eyes. The blond one looked familiar, but I couldn't replace her.
"What gave it away?" I shot back sarcastically, a bit annoyed, while I made my way to Snape's side and dropped my backpack next to his desk.
Then I couldn't stop a teasing grin from taking over my face.
"Popular with the ladies, Snape? Is that why you look so worried? Is there something...illicit going on here?" I asked him, unable to help myself. Months of teasing with a Dark Lord tended to have this effect on me.
I didn't like the faces of revulsion that took over the brown-haired girl and the redhead who looked vaguely familiar too. Sure, Severus wasn't the most handsome specimen of man on the planet, but there was a certain mature charm and confidant strength to him that made him attractive, in a way. And this disgust in their face was disrespecting a man that I had come to appreciate, so I didn't feel very keen to the two girls at the moment. The third was looking vaguely to the ceiling, or to something floating around, her eyes following some invisible movement. I focused my magical sight, which had returned to me sometime in the last two weeks with the bulk of my magic, and saw strange spots of light coming from the ceiling. What were they?
"They're Nargles. Hogwarts is infested with them, I'm afraid," I heard the blond girl answer in a dreamy voice. Apparently, I must have asked my question out loud. I looked back down at her to ask her what Nargles were and stopped short of gasping at the pure white aura that surrounded her. Now I knew when I'd see her. She was the girl that had looked supportive at the Ministry Ball when the news came out that I was the Dark Lord's lover. I didn't have the chance to go talk to her then because I had been distracted by Marvolo and she had gone home early, but here she was now. With the same pure white light surrounding her. It was even more beautiful from up close.
"You have darkened a bit since then," she said in an eerie voice.
"I know. It was inevitable. But I'm working on it now," I answered vaguely. Somehow, I knew she'd be able to follow without context.
"It suits you, I think," she declared with a small smile.
"Thank you. So does yours. I've never met someone so pure," came out of my mouth next. The other people in the room looked incredibly disturbed by our conversation, but it was too fascinating to stop.
The blond girl suddenly started laughing hard and rocking backwards and forwards while tears streamed from her prominent eyes.
"How very special of you...to assume that...Light means purity," she commented at last, choking out the words between two laughs.
Interesting. I never had linked anything between the colour of one's magical energy and their allegiance, apart for a general tendency for Dark people to have darker shades of magic.
I turned my sight on the two other girls, wondering how the magic of normal people of my age looked like.
The brown-haired girl's was a weird shade of orange that I could only described as 'Chuddley Cannons orange', while the redheaded girl's was...very peculiar. It was as if the normal colour, which was pale green, was warring with dark blue magic incredibly similar with the Dark Lord's. I narrowed my eyes, trying to look at it in detail, but I was distracted by the girl's intense blush. Right, the sudden scrutiny must have been a bit peculiar.
I forced my eyes away from her and looked back at Snape's forest green energy, shaking my head to stop focusing on the magic. He looked marginally more relaxed now, but still leery of what could happen. There was something about those three girls meeting me that put him ill at ease. I had hit too close to home when I said that there was something illicit going on. Only, it had nothing to do with the fact that they were girls and more with who those girls were.
I observed them, trying to ascertain their identity.
The brown-haired girl looked disbelievingly between the blond girl and me. She clearly couldn't follow our discussion and wasn't used to be left out of the loop. That, combined with her attitude when I arrived and with her slightly prominent front teeth, revealed to me her identity. Hermione Macmillan. The loud Muggleborn that Draco kept complaining about: the Know-it-all who refused to forget her Muggle origins and went up against the established order as often as she could. From Draco's tale, I had gotten a sense that she and I would have gotten along fairly well at one point. I had the same defying attitude, after all, but her lack of modesty was putting me off. Here was a girl who was brilliant and knew she was. She was darting her intelligent eyes around, as if hoping to understand the secrets in every nook and crannies she could find. She had no restraint in her tone. She thought she was entitled to all the knowledge everybody could give her and wouldn't be grateful to the magical world after she was done with her studies. She would think it was her right to be taught centuries of careful exploration of the nature of Magic and spells and not a privilege.
Where I tended to be self-righteous, she was self-absorbed. Admittedly, Draco's negative assessment of her was biasing my opinion of her already.
I moved on to the redhead. All the redheads I had met so far outside of the Camp were Weasleys. This one also looked fairly similar to Bill, in a way. Was the warring magic I had felt in her earlier a result of her early torture by the Dark Lord? The concept put me ill at ease. Could it really have made that much of an impact on her Magic all those years later? I moved closer to her, stretching a hand forward to reach for her magic. The girl blushed again, but cringed slightly when our magic touched. I vaguely heard Hermione protest at my closeness, but I was too busy examining how the Dark Lord's magical residue was reacting to mine. It seemed to be attracted to it and to gather around my hand, as if trying to re-join with mine.
I wondered if I could make the transfer. My recent forays in magical theory left me more aware of how magical signatures worked and how magic was linked to a person. I wondered if I was playing with the girl's sanity just by being close to her. I looked down at her, she was leaning toward me, close to putting her head on my stomach. She seemed to sense my gaze, because she lifted hazel eyes to me that were full of questions I couldn't answer. And then, she whispered: "Do it." and closed her eyes, at my mercy.
It baffled me that she would put that much trust in my hands when she had never met me before.
"It might hurt a lot. You might even become a Squib," I warned her, growing worried on her behalf.
"If I'm free from the stain, it will be worth it," she said. I swallowed and looked back at Snape hesitantly. His face was grave.
"Potter, she's struggling to do basis spells and looses control of her magic at least once a month, endangering everybody around in her crises. If you can help her, do it," he said, nodding, effectively putting himself as the responsible body here.
"I don't know what you're planning on doing, but Ginny is not 17 yet, so you need parental consent before you do anything to her that could be life-threatening..." started Hermione brazenly, before Snape interrupted her.
"She is a student at Hogwarts and, as such, I can act in loco parentis for this occasion.
-WHAT? But the law stipulates that you only have the power to do so if the parents can't be reached or if the decision cannot wait for them to give their consent and I hardly think that whatever he's trying to do warrants...
-Miss Macmillan!" interrupted an irate Snape. "You do not know everything at stake here. You cannot see or comprehend what is happening. If Harry pulls away now, as deep as he is in her Magic at the moment, it could have catastrophic consequences on your friend. It is a drastic circumstance and now kindly refrain from interrupting or I will bind you in a corner and silence you. Understood?" Woah. Efficient pedagogy methods, Snape.
I turned back to Ginny's face, which was beseeching me to continue whatever I was doing. I felt helpless. I wasn't a Mind Healer, Merlin's soggiest underpants!
The nargles girl just smiled at me in encouragement before she went to stand behind Hermione.
I swallowed and breathed deeply. I couldn't turn back, Snape had said, not without damaging her more than she was.
I looked at the magical residue. It had wrapped itself around my still stretched hand. If I could just...wrap my magic around it and isolate it until it was only hanging with a thread to Ginny's magic, then maybe it would not cause too much damage to her magic to sever it off? But magic was not something tangible and you couldn't just 'cut it off'...
I tried to think of how the Locket had leeched on my magical energy. If I did the same with her, but only selectively, perhaps I could just...leech off the parts that didn't belong? Gods, this whole procedure made me feel my status as a Horcrux anomaly very acutely.
My hand that wasn't busy with Ginny's magic went to touch my scar on my forehead, feeling weird agitation in it. As I rubbed against it, I felt something pull at Ginny's magic and push its way inside my scar. It felt so weird and wrong that it made me shudder. I heard Snape gasp at my right and knew he just understood that my scar wasn't only there for its aesthetic appeal. Too late to worry about that now. Slowly, but surely, the Dark Lord's magical residue leaked out of Ginny's magic and went to join the Horcrux in my forehead, which stirred happily at such a gift. I felt sick at the thought of giving strength to it. It was as if I was encouraging it to talk to me and remind me that I had a separate consciousness inside me just bidding its time until it thought it would be fun to take over my body.
As the last of it was transferred into me, Ginny's magic flashed in a bright pale green colour and the girl slumped forward on Snape's desk.
I let myself fall back on the vacated chair next to her. It was much too delicate a procedure to do in my still weakened state and I was panting in exhaustion, struggling to catch my breath.
I felt ill at ease with that Magic churning in me. It just didn't belong there, no matter how good it felt when it came in contact with mine when I was with the Dark Lord. Maybe I'd just...empty it out to the Locket...if that was possible. Or just give it back to Marvolo, not that he needed the power boost, or whatever it would do.
Hermione had launched forward when she'd seen her friend fall and she was now shaking her awake. Or trying to, at least. I could only hope that I hadn't make it worse for her. At least, her magical signature looked purified now.
Hermione turned burning eyes on me.
"It's all your fault! What did you do to her?" she accused.
"What? Is she dead?" I croaked out worriedly, my voice thick with exhaustion.
"Miss Macmillan. Please desist with your dramatics. Miss Weasley shall be no worse off than before, at the very least. You should thank Mister Potter instead of lashing out your helplessness on him. I will bring her to the Infirmary where she will rest for the night. We will see the result of this intervention tomorrow when she'll have had time to gather her strength. Come now, you too, Miss Lovegood," he ordered, sweeping toward the door with a levitated Ginny and an anxious Hermione following closely.
The blond, Lovegood, stayed there looking at me, however. She didn't budge an inch at Snape's call.
"I think I'll stay here, Headmaster," she informed him.
"Luna! What are you doing? You can't stay alone with him! He's dangerous!" tried to whisper Hermione. Wow. I'd show her dangerous. I felt like I had been rolled over by the Knightbus. What a threat I was at the moment.
"No, it's fine. It will keep Harry company. Right, Harry?" she asked lightly.
"Sure, go ahead, Snape. I'll be fine here," I told him waving tiredly in his direction.
"Very well. I shall be back shortly," he said before sweeping out of the room.
The door closed on them with a muted thud. The girl, Luna, just sat at my side and returned to her seemingly vacant staring. Nargles, right.
"Didn't you want to ask me something?" I asked her. I thought that was why she had decided to stay.
"No, but you wanted to," she answered before I realised that she was right. I did want to ask her about her reaction to my relationship with the Dark Lord at the Ministry Ball. I didn't really know how to formulate my question, but she waited patiently for me to order my thoughts. Marvolo had this tendency to urge me to speak my mind without giving me time to think of what I was going to say and then either be offended by what came out of my mouth, or be amused by it. This calm patience was a novelty for me.
"Most people disapprove of my relationship with the Dark Lord, but you don't seem to and I was wondering why that was," I said carefully, even if the choice of words was a bit poor. I had the impression that if anyone wouldn't judge me for it, it was that girl.
"You fit. It's obvious, but most don't see it. People are silly like that, sometimes," she stated with an absent-minded smile.
"We...fit?" I asked with a lifted eyebrow.
She nodded categorically.
"Like you were two threads weaving a bracelet. Have you ever weaved a bracelet? I heard it's a terribly Muggle thing to do," she confided excitedly.
"Er...I've never weaved a bracelet, but I suppose it's kind of like...a plait? With hair, I mean?" I answered uncertainly.
At first, I thought this girl was a genius who could understand more than most because she was in tune with her Magic. Now, I wondered if she didn't have a mental problem of some sort. Maybe she was stuck with the mind of a child.
She just hummed in answer, looking off to the side and chasing invisible spots with her gaze.
"Did you know that Marvolo's favourite colour is fairy pink? I heard that fairy pink was a very rare shade of pink. A pink so intense it's nearly violent," she announced out of the blue. "But he doesn't like it as much as he needs you," she added, confusing me even more.
"Well, Miss Lovegood, you can head back to your dormitory now. Mister Potter and I have things to discuss," said Snape from his position at the doorway. Apparently, he had just returned in time to hear Luna's comment.
"Okay! Bye Harry! I'll see you at the naming ceremony!" she said, skipping to the door.
"Wait!" I called at her. "Which naming ceremony?"
She turned and giggled girlishly.
"Silly Harry, that's how you should be called. At your first-born's naming ceremony, of course! I'm not mad at you for your decision, by the way, just make me the godmother of your third child and I'll be happy!" She declared, running out of the room before I could question her more.
I was flabbergasted. First-born...third child?
Snape lifted an eyebrow at me.
"Planning for a family so soon?" he asked in mocking voice.
I reddened in embarrassment.
"No, I'm not! And I don't get it! I mean, I understand why Narcissa would want her daughter to have friends close to her age or why her head is revolving around babies at the moment, but this!" I exclaimed, waving my hand at the door through which Luna just exited. "This, I don't get."
"Miss Lovegood has baffled the best of us throughout her years in this institution. Her Head of House, Professor Flitwick, seems to think that she is a genius, but her other teachers are somewhat...divided in their opinion. I can safely say that I am glad not to be teaching anymore, if only because I do not have to deal with such concerns" declared Snape while settling behind his desk.
His dark eyes studied me for a moment.
"Sometimes, I find that she senses what most of us are too blind to perceive. In this particular case, however, I'm not sure if I wish her observation to come true," he declared.
I sighed at him, annoyed.
"Yeah, well, you and me both. Not before years at least," I tried to reassure him.
"I was not aware that you considered pursuing your relationship with the Dark Lord for years to come," he said neutrally.
I prepared myself to object, when I realised that yes, I had started to see it as more than a temporary arrangement. I was up to my neck in that relationship and it was dangerous to make myself so vulnerable, but at this point, I couldn't say that I was just taking it one day at a time.
"You know what? I think that it's going smoothly enough at the moment that I am starting to think of it as a long-term relationship. I mean, I know I'm young and everything, but well...it doesn't get much better than this. I'm sure of it. As long as he still wants me and keeps acting like he does now, I'm good to go for another 6 months, at least, and then more, if it still works." One could dream, right?
"I suppose I do not have to tell you to be careful of what you wish for," he replied cynically.
I rolled my eyes at him.
"No, but you could shed some light on why you had three ladies in your office after hours. Really, now, Snape, making them meet each other. I thought you had more class than that," I said, not being able to prevent my chuckling.
"I can safely assure you that I do not see why the Dark Lord would voluntarily submit himself to the torture of spending time around someone as young as you are.
-Hey!" I protested.
"Nor," he continued regardless. "do I share his current inclinations or...taste in this either. So, please, kindly refrain from making such distasteful suggestions. It is a clumsy and insulting attempt at interrogating me to know what they were doing here and what you interrupted."
I felt my eyebrows lift on my forehead. Well, what a scolding. Snape had this gift to make me feel like a child sometimes.
The fact that he brought up the real reason of my teasing was enough to tell me that he'd tell me about it if I asked. So I did.
"So, what were they doing here?" I asked.
Snape made a dramatic pause, taking his time to weight me up pensively with his gaze, as if he was hesitating on what to tell me.
"The question should have been 'why these three young women in particular'," he commented after a while.
Did I mention that Snape was infuriating on purpose sometimes? One of the reasons I was well suited for the Dark Lord is that both of us lacked patience in discussions. That did make us say too direct or vaguely tactless things sometimes (or it made me do so, at least), but, that way, information passes quickly between us usually. This was pure torture compared to it.
"Fine. Why these three?" I asked, exasperated. He couldn't have just talked on his own, now, could he?
"Because it just so happens that they are all connected with the Rebellion somehow and in possession of important information. They transmit it to me, and I try to offer them...alternatives to their initial situation, while protecting them, to some extent, of any potential retribution for their actions," he explained.
"Are you just telling me that you are training three spies in different areas of the Rebellion? I mean, I had heard that you'd been a spy for the Order of the Phoenix at some point, but I thought those days were...over? Aren't they?" I asked him, surprised.
"You are still not asking the right questions. The right one here is: Why am I telling you so openly?" he corrected me. Dammit, what was it with him today?
"Right. That too," I said curtly.
He didn't say anything and just looked at me expectantly.
Oh, for the love of...
"Venerable Snape, would you please enlighten me as to why the effing heck you're being SO open and cooperative with me?" I bit out, pissed at his superior attitude. He had probably planned the right sentence to use down to the last intonation and was steering me until he could blurt it out perfectly.
"They are working for you," he said, as if that explained everything.
"That doesn't make any sense! That girl, Hermione, I never did anything to her and she was scared of leaving Luna in the same room alone with me!" I protested. Why the heck would they be working for me without my knowledge when I never even met them before today anyway?
"They are working for you, but they just don't know it yet. They think that they are working for me," he explained as if clarified anything.
"Why do you say that they are working for me at all, then?" I asked, confused.
"Because I'm working for you in this, primarily," said Severus dramatically.
I snapped my mouth shut and frowned at him uncomprehendingly.
"What about the Dark Lord?" I asked him. I wasn't sure I liked what I was hearing.
He inclined his head.
"It is convenient for me that you are both aligned in your loyalties. The Dark Lord, however, would not let one of these three students live if he knew what she did, directly or indirectly. I protect my students and I believe that you are more...reasonable about such things than my Master. And this is why, in matters pertaining to these three, I want you to be the middleman with the Dark Lord. I have tried to transmit the information I got anonymously through various channels, but it has never reached him appropriately. I want a more direct connection without associating my name with it," he explained.
A weight lifted off my shoulders.
"So, you're still loyal with the Dark Lord and won't ask me to go against him, right?" I asked, wanting to make sure.
He studied me intently.
"I do not think it would be necessary for you to do so. He is...particularly receptive to your opinion. In that sense, it is as if you have some power over him, because you can influence his judgment," he said slowly, putting strangely more emphasis on the word 'power' in his sentence.
"I don't know what you are insinuating, but he has just as much, if not a lot more power than I do in terms of who is influencing who here," I replied carefully.
He stayed silent for a while and then sighed.
"Harry, I'm not asking you to act against your lover, or even to try to manipulate him. I just want you to transmit some information for me without saying who gave it to you.
-Won't it look suspicious though if I always have new information after I come back from Hogwarts?" I asked, because it would, even to me.
"Of course it would, that's why you have to tell him that your contact is at Hogwarts and that you get in touch with them when you come to visit me," he reasoned.
I lifted an eyebrow at him.
"And...how would I have met this contact and gotten him to trust me enough for him to pass information? And if I'm just passing information from Hogwarts, won't he wonder why I don't just ask the student to go see you with it?
-I am hardly a popular and well-loved figure here. Someone who was associated with the Rebels wouldn't want to talk to me normally," he tried to convince me.
I had both of my hands pulling at my hair in worry by now.
"I can't pull it off, Snape. The Dark Lord, he sees through me. I'm rubbish at lying, or at hiding stuff from him. I'm not sure I even understand why you're putting me through this. Of course, I want the info transmitted, but you know him, he hates it when he can sense that people are making deals behind his back," I explained, defeated.
"So don't then. Just tell him that someone who prefers to stays anonymous gave you that information and that you're giving it to him and that's it," he reasoned.
Said like that, it sounded doable enough suddenly.
"That's it? No cover story, no excuses. Just a 'Hey, I've got this but I can't tell you where it comes from'..." I trailed off, thinking of the times in which he just let me keep my little secrets and had waited patiently until I came out with them. As it was, if there was anybody who could probably make him accept this strange deal, it was me. It wasn't as if he could suspect me of plotting in his back. He knew I'd be obvious about it.
"Yeah, okay. I'll do it. You're sure it's good info, though? I mean...I'd get in trouble if I was feeding him false information," I added uncertainly.
"Do you think I would take the risk of putting you up to it if I was unsure?" he challenged.
"No, probably not," I conceded, sighing.
"Well, give me the first batch then, if it's ready for consumption," I joked lamely, gathering my backpack again. I doubted there would be any warding experiment that day, after all.
Snape calmly gathered the notes he got about our experiment in one pile on his desk and was bending down to retrieve the information from one of his desk's drawers when I felt the weirdest thing happen in my scar. White-hot pain seared through my forehead and made me collapse on the ground under the onslaught.
Then, as quickly as it started, the pain abruptly ended, leaving me with a vague feeling of emptiness.
Something was wrong, something was really wrong. I touched my forehead and my hand came back bloody. It seemed to come from my scar...
I turned my head in Snape's direction, when the man approached to help me up from the floor. I watched him uncomprehendingly, evaluating what I could feel and wondering if my Horcrux reacted with the process I did earlier. And then it clicked. I wasn't the problem.
"Shit! Marvolo!" I shouted, gathering myself up, putting on my backpack and running as fast as I could to the Floo.
"Snape, gather Healing Potions and come to the Fortress!" I shot him before I disappeared in the flames.
.
o0o0o
I was thrown out in the Entrance Parlour of the Dark Lord's Fortress. I rolled up on my feet, baring no heed to my protesting muscles, and reached out with my magic. The library! There he was!
I ran as fast as I could, my heart beating fast in my panic and exertion. I kept a continuous stream of profanities in my head, all the while wondering what the heck could have hurt him so badly when he was still within his wards and I couldn't sense any intruders.
At long last, I reached the door of the Library, and I nearly took it off its frame in my hurry to open it. I also felt too freaking weak to manage such a feat.
I spotted a prone form right next to Marvolo's desk and sprinted to it, kneeling down beside it and scanning it magically for injuries.
I didn't find any. I examined him physically. His heart was beating (Thank the Gods!) and he was breathing regularly. It was as if he had just...fallen asleep on the ground. Right. Probably not.
I turned him on his back, because I had no idea what to do and he didn't look hurt. Then I levitated him to the sofa close by. It looked less dramatic if the Dark Lord was lying on a sofa than on the ground. It was as if he was just taking a nap before returning to his work. Even if that never happened, really.
At the back of my mind, I felt someone try to come into the wards of the Fortress. If the Master of the place was unconscious, it was a wonder that I had managed to come in at all. Most wards in old mansions were set so that everything went on a lockdown when the Master was vulnerable. Only family or implicitly trusted people were keyed in the wards. And I was, apparently. But I could think of what it implied later on when I wasn't running out of time.
I reached out to the wards, trying to identify the visitor. Snape. Right. He had come in with the Healing Potions like I'd asked. I didn't have access to the wards enough to let him come in, though.
I chose to send him a Patronus to explain that he couldn't come in because of the wards, but that the Dark Lord looked fine, physically at least.
I turned back to the Dark Lord who was still unconscious and frowned, trying to guess what went wrong. As I frowned, I felt a weird thing in my scar and it reminded me of the magic I had just extracted from Ginny's energy. Could it help him?
I put a hand on my scar and the other on Marvolo's forehead, working to push the additional magic in him.
It didn't work. It was stuck in my scar. The greedy Horcrux didn't want to let it go. Damn it, but I didn't have time for his ego. Marvolo needed me. I mentally begged with it and focused all of my tired energy on the task. Drop by drop, reluctantly, it did go back to its creator. But the Dark Lord still didn't move. It did make the awkward feeling I had felt since I had extracted it go away, at least.
What else could I do? Give him Potions, maybe? But which ones and how could I get them here?
Something clicked and I berated myself for having forgotten about the House-Elves. They could have gotten me to the library much more rapidly, after all.
§ House-Elf? § I called, because they had never told me their name.
One of them popped in and nearly scared the wits out of me with his nasty appearance. Not that it was their fault the Dark Lord had cursed them.
§ I need Potions for your Master... § I started to say and he clicked his fingers, making a hot pink potion appear. I had never seen such potion, but the peculiar colour reminded me of something. What had Luna said again? The Dark Lord's favourite colour was 'fairy pink'? Violent pink? And that he needed it?
I looked down at Marvolo's peaceful form again. Could I give him a potion based on what a weird girl had said and what a house-elf had brought? I thought of sending another Patronus to Snape to ask him, but he hadn't replied to the first...what if they couldn't reach me here?
I scanned the potion with every spell I knew, but it didn't seem toxic. What was the worst that could happen? Poison him? Oh, Morgana, what if it killed him and no Healer could come in to save him because of the wards? What if I was fulfilling the Prophecy right now? Nobody else could come in the Fortress and his life might depend on what I do.
I took in a few calming breaths and decided to go for it and trust my lucky star.
How did one go about giving a Potion to someone unconscious? I put the flask down on the ground for a minute and lifted a hand to his mouth, parting his lips. His teeth were clenched so I started to pull them apart slowly, putting a finger in between to keep them open as I reached down to get the Potion. And that's when he bit me. Hard.
"Owwww! What the heck? You nearly bit my finger off! You could have told me you were awake, dammit!" I accused the obviously not unconscious Dark Lord.
Stormy red eyes snapped open, observing me shrewdly.
"And what, pray tell, were you about to do?" he said with an edge in his voice.
"I was about to give you a Potion your house-elf brought me. It's a damn good thing you woke up just now because I have no idea what it does," I confessed leaning down to pick up the bottle.
"What is this for? It's not poisonous, right? Please tell me I didn't nearly kill you."
His eyes narrowed on the Potion before he smoothened out his facial expression in what must have been his worst poker face in years.
He sighed and looked tired. Well, he had just lost consciousness after all. Wow. Something or someone had made him unconscious. I couldn't wrap my head around it.
And then suddenly, he looked angry again.
"So, you've come to finish the work, then? How many Horcruxes have you destroyed yet?" he accused me.
I gaped at him, hovering between incomprehension and outrage.
He sat up suddenly, nearly pushing me off the sofa in his abrupt movement. I felt a twinge of discomfort in my scar.
"Was this your master plan, then? Infiltrate my Fortress and my life to take me down better? Did you think I wouldn't see through your scheming? Did you think I would be blind to your blatant manipulations?" he seethed.
"I've known for months that you were nothing but a disgusting thief! And now that you have made your move, you will suffer the consequences of your traitorous actions," he pronounced, withdrawing his wand and pointing it at me suddenly.
I backed away from him quickly, my empty hands lifted to show him that I was harmless.
He swiftly got up from the sofa. His eyes were flashing with an insane fury; his magic was unfurling and threatening, snapping dangerously around me.
"I swear I didn't touch your Horcruxes, Marvolo," I started, but he interrupted me with a shout of rage and I narrowly dodged a nasty curse by throwing myself to the side. I fell painfully on the ground, struggling to get up again because of my weak and strained muscles. The run to the library already had already been pushing my limits, but I was in no shape to dodge spells around.
"Don't call me that name! You lost that privilege when you tried to destroy everything I have built!" he shouted viciously.
Obviously, something was wrong here. He wasn't making any sense.
"Mar...Voldemort," I called out from my hiding place behind another sofa. "Why would I have destroyed your Horcrux now and not months ago when you didn't know I had it?"
"I will not let you lie and manipulate me out of this, Potter! You are my enemy and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise!" he shouted back with a curse that made the sofa blow up seconds after I had left its cover to dive behind a bookshelf. Surely, he wouldn't damage his precious books so easily, right?
"Come on! Just stop and think! Why would I have done that? When I left earlier today, the Locket was still here, in my rooms. Is it still there? Did someone take it?" I asked, trying to reconstruct what had happened.
"Your death will be my ultimate victory! I will cut you in pieces and hang them in all corners of Wizarding Britain! And the world shall bow before my uncontested triumph once again!" he said, rejoicing at the prospect, before pausing slightly.
"Ahhh, Severusssss," he hissed out nearly in Parseltongue as Snape arrived in the door frame and took in the scene with the blasted sofas and scorched walls. "You have arrived right in time to witness the final showdown. Rather fitting, isn't it?" asked Voldemort in a mocking tone of joy.
Snape kept his neutral face and bowed to his Master respectfully. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't seen him do so except for at Marvolo's birthday in front of all the Death Eaters. It seemed like Snape immediately got that something wasn't right. I saw his glance trail down on the ground and a look of understanding filter in as he saw the pink potion still lying there. It must be something significant.
"Severus, I asked you a question. Crucio!" he shot, delighting in the screams that rose moments after.
Fuck, had he gone insane or what? A sense of dread coiled in my stomach at the thought.
Snape picked himself up slowly after the spell ended.
"Yes, my Lord, I do believe it is rather fitting. May I ask what made you change your mind about the brat?" he asked carefully.
"Brat is too light a word for that worthless traitor. Did you know he conspired to have me killed, Severus? I cannot help but to think that he has had help from someone inside of my ranks to succeed so well. And really, Severussss, with a past such as yours, you seem like a prime suspect," he accused, seeming to give all his attention to Snape now.
I desperately tried to put my ideas into order and calm down despite the crazy situation.
The last thing I wanted now was to have to duel the Dark Lord when he was in such a state and I felt so exhausted.
Right, so, what had happened? I felt pain through our link, he seems physically fine, but had fainted. Perhaps the pain was magical or psychological. He thought I destroyed his Horcruxes. Something must be wrong with them, then. Moody must have destroyed one or more of them.
Realisation filtered through my mind at the implication.
Shit, if Moody had destroyed soul pieces, the fragile balance between them was probably shattered. And Marvolo was back to being a paranoid, angry, insane Dark Lord, who apparently thought he was surrounded by traitors. Great.
Severus was under the Cruciatus again. I winced at the sight of this proud man twisting and screaming on the ground. Apparently, he had tried to suggest to the Dark Lord to take the pink Potion. Was it something like a mood stabiliser, perhaps?
I have to do something, I have to do something, I repeated in my head while my leg bounced nervously on the ground. I spotted the House-Elf from earlier hovering nervously in a corner, probably trying to decide whether he should repair the damage caused by his insane master or leave them to pile up until the Dark Lord had calmed down. He popped to me when I hissed lowly for him to come.
§ Young Master? § he whispered in question.
§ Listen, I want you to go in my room, check in the wardrobe, in the box at the bottom, there will be a Locket, hopefully. If it's there, bring it to me. Can you do that? § I asked him, all the while keeping track of the still furious Dark Lord in the middle of the room.
The House-Elf disappeared and Voldemort turned to me suddenly.
"So you are exploiting my gift against me, then? You are using Parseltongue to turn even my servants against me? Your impudence knows no bounds! Everything you think you have is mine! Mine!" he shouted, sending a pure dose of Dark Magic spiralling in my direction.
Oh fuck, the dodging was back on. Only this time, Snape had joined my tired dance. Voldemort herd us both towards the same point, making us nearly collide in each other in our hurry to dodge his spells. I panted with difficulty, feeling my chest constricting painfully. I wasn't supposed to go head on against him like that now...everything felt wrong. I also knew that the only reason the Duel hadn't started was because I hadn't fought back. I didn't know how long I could keep it up without defending myself with my Magic, however.
"Charming relationship you have there, Potter," whispered Snape in a sardonic voice as he deflected a spell for both of us.
I huffed in derision.
"Yeah, because that's exactly what we get up to every night. You just disturbed our daily foreplay here, Snape," I shot him back sarcastically while keeping an eye on the Dark Lord.
"Ahhh, why am I not surprised to see the two traitors getting along so well...are you also lovers? How touching of you both. Particularly from you, Snape. Were you tired to long for the cadaver of his mother and wanted a taste of living flesh?" mocked the Dark Lord.
I shot a look at Snape, who seemed pained somewhat at the suggestion. Snape had liked my mother that way?
I shook the thought out of my head. It was not important at the moment. The House-Elf suddenly took advantage of the small break in curses to pop back in and hand me the Locket. I took it and brandished it before me, making the Dark Lord see it clearly.
"See? I haven't touched it! It's still there! Intact! I haven't destroyed any of them! " I pleaded with him to understand.
"So you have destroyed the others and are now threatening me the two remaining?" he accused, before snapping his head to Snape who had taken advantage of Voldemort being busy with me to try to Accio the vial of Potion to him. The Dark Lord saw it and shot a dark paralysing curse to Snape, while he purposely stepped on the glass and shattered it, making the liquid spread on the carpet beneath his foot.
In the meanwhile, trying not to think too hard of the absurdity of what I was attempting, I ran up to him and launched myself on the Dark Lord. I collided painfully with his side, sending him sprawling under me. I wrestled briefly to keep his arms pinned down and just thrust the Locket to him. When it touched his skin, I felt my scar burn as the Locket reacted to the contact with its mother soul. The Dark Lord screamed in pain and writhed under me. I lowered myself on him completely, pinning him to the ground and pressing my forehead to his chest while I slipped the Locket's chain around his neck and held it down against his heart.
I screwed my eyes shut as tightly as I could when I heard my lover continue to scream in gut wrenching agony. I hated to cause him pain, even if he had sent me horrible curses not a minute ago. As time passed, I was more lying on him than holding him down. My head went to the crook of his neck and I just held him tight to me. After a while, the screams stopped. When I felt hesitating hands settle on my back in return, I couldn't help the two drops that escaped my eyes and stained his shoulder. I had nearly lost him. I had nearly lost him. I had nearly lost him.
I felt Marvolo sigh from beneath me, and one of his hands went up to bury itself in my hair and caress the back of my head.
"You can go now, Severus. Everything is under control. You would do well not to breathe a word of what happened in this room," I heard him say in his familiar calm tone. It had a resigned, wistful tone to it that wasn't usual, however. I heard the rustle of robes moving and picked my head up to see Snape bend down to gather the case of Healing Potions he had brought for nothing and to head silently to the door, shaking slightly from the two bouts of Cruciatus under which he had been put, despite his best efforts.
As he reached the doorstep, however, Marvolo surprised me.
"Severus," he called, sounding nearly hesitant. His brow was slightly creased and his lips had tightened.
Snape stopped and hovered in place for a moment, visibly surprised at being called again. When he did turn around, he had his usual poker face on perfectly.
"Thank you for your help today. You did well," offered the Dark Lord uncharacteristically. Snape couldn't stop his brows from lifting in surprise at the words. He did, however, nod sharply in answer and bow respectfully again.
"I only seek to serve you at the best of my abilities, my Lord," he replied in that low, deep voice of his. He shot me an undecipherable look before he swiftly turned back and exited the room.
I let my head fall on Marvolo's chest again, exhausted by the day's event.
The hand went back to carding through my hair. It felt divine and I couldn't help but relax under his ministrations.
He sighed again, this time a bit sadly.
"Harry...I'm sorry for making you go through that," he said, after a while.
I stayed silent, thinking of the ordeal and how draining and worrying and so freaking terrifying it had been. Not so much for my personal safety, or for the catastrophic consequences an insane Dark Lord would have on the world, but for what it meant for the Dark Lord himself. He had said once that one of the worst feelings in the world was feeling like you were loosing your sanity, loosing control on your actions. Becoming insane again for the Dark Lord was also like losing his sense of self. And I had been terrified of loosing Marvolo to Voldemort.
"I'm just glad you feel better now," I replied, but it felt inadequate.
"Because you don't have to fear for your life so much anymore?" he asked, his tone self-deprecating.
"I was afraid I had lost you," I confessed, closing my eyes and rubbing my cheek slightly on his chest.
He stayed silent this time. I hadn't expected him to return my mushy confession, but when he kept on caressing the back of my head and his other hand started to traced idle circles on the small of my back, it felt like an answer.
Then I remembered something.
"What was the Potion for?" I asked, propping myself up to look at his face.
He turned his head in the direction of the shattered glass.
"It's a Potion I had Severus design for me after my resurrection when I was struggling to keep myself from slipping back into my insane persona. The...balance between the Horcruxes is very delicate and, over the years, deteriorated slightly. I often thought of reabsorbing another to help it, but the Potion was effective enough to be sufficient, until some of my Horcruxes were destroyed today, that is," he explained.
"I never saw you take any Potions," I remarked. It was the first time I had ever seen a Potion of that colour as well.
"I didn't need to, when you were there. The Horcrux in you stabilises me," he admitted.
I felt my chest fill with warmth at the admission and I smiled down at him in answer.
"You know, you might not have been far from the target when you said we were soul mates. It seems as though the Horcrux link wants to keep us together..." I trailed off, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the mushiness of my remark.
He sighed, but did not say anything else. I got off him when he made to stand and offered him a hand to pull him up. He didn't take it. I guessed it was a pride thing, but I still felt a pang of disappointment at my rejected gesture.
He looked exhausted, but I knew he wouldn't say anything about it. I felt completely knackered after the run, the dodging and the panicking, so I guessed I could lure him in bed with me if I played my cards well. I could always get him there with the promise of sex, but I felt way too tired to do any type of physical activity at the moment, so I had to find something else.
He made a few steps towards the table on which he had been working before the 'incident' happened, as if he was just readying to sit down and start whatever complicated task he was working on before. I didn't completely fake the muscle cramp that made me hold on to the nearest thing that could support my weight, but the subsequent fall on the ground when the half-destroyed chair on which I had tried to lean collapsed, was totally authentic. And made me look really pathetic, but what else was new?
The Dark Lord snorted tiredly and shook his head at me, as if he was exasperated by my antics. He threw a glance at his work and waved his wand at it finally, ordering the papers in neat piles for the next time he'd work on them.
Then, he walked up to me and gave me a hand so that I could pick myself off the floor.
I grinned sheepishly at him when I was back at the vertical and standing close to him.
"I think I really should go to bed..." I hinted at covertly.
Marvolo rolled his eyes at me.
"Do not think I am blind to your poor attempts at subtlety, Harry. Yes, I will also join you," he replied.
We headed to bed and fell asleep quickly that night.
.
How the brat did it was a mystery. If his lover had threatened Severus to death, he wouldn't have stayed with said lover, even after she calmed down. There would have always been this nagging thought that perhaps he'd get assassinated in his sleep by the one person he was supposed to trust marginally.
Then again, he hadn't had a lover who stayed the night in so long that he was positive he wouldn't be able to rest with someone else close by anyway.
And perhaps Potter thrilled on the danger of having an unstable lover. Severus wouldn't put it past him to be slightly masochistic. He was the Dark Lord's lover, after all.
He sighed to himself as he walked in the long, deserted corridors of Hogwarts at night.
Seventeen of age and the blasted boy faced an angry, insane Dark Lord without a shadow of a doubt. A strange churning started in his gut as he tried to determine whether he felt jealous of the boy's confidence, or angry at his carelessness.
For all of his conclusions about Harry being in a prime position to influence the Dark Lord for the better, there has been little to none improvements on that front in the last months. Perhaps, considering the circumstances, he had Harry to thank for keeping his Lord in a relatively stable mood up until now.
And, if Severus was honest with himself, he could spot a few differences in the insane anger that had overtaken his Lord that day and the crises he used to have before and shortly after his resurrection. Despite his visible infuriation, the Dark Lord never shot a Killing Curse, or any life-threatening curses towards Harry. He himself had only had a few Disembowelling curses and Crucios to dodge. Somewhere beneath the ire, Voldemort must have known that he was slipping, must have had a certain degree of restraint. Severus had seen insanity in his Master, and he had seen how the latter reacted when he was really angry. He, at the very least, would have been dead in a matter of seconds if his Master had really lost control.
This was a good sign. A very good sign, indeed, in the current circumstances, he thought as he let himself drop down on the heavy chair that used to belong to his old Headmaster.
He thought back of Harry's indignant expression as the boy forgave him for his part in his parents' murder. Perhaps forgiveness was the wrong word. He had said that the guilt was misplaced. That anybody who said otherwise was only trying to manipulate him.
It was not a novel reflection to his mind, not by any stretch of imagination. But it felt good to hear it confirmed by someone else, someone who had suffer at least as much as he did from his actions.
By habit, he conjured up a mental picture of Lily, as she had looked when they were still friends: a happy young woman, unburdened by the weight of a war and responsibilities that really shouldn't be thrust on such inexperienced students. Hogwarts had always been Dumbledore's favourite hunting grounds for recruits, but it had always felt wrong to Severus. Why so young? Did he need them so naive, so candid? Were older wizards too jaded to join in a dangerous movement if they hadn't been previously recruited as students?
Severus shook his head in discontent. None of it mattered anymore. Dumbledore was long dead, and he only left behind shadows of his noble goals. Oh, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts was aware of his predecessor's ambiguous morals. After his death, a few of his oldest acquaintances stepped forward to help tarnish his image. Some of it had been absurd, like the scandalous piece of gossip that had portrayed him as Grindelwald's lover, but Severus knew enough to recognise Dumbledore's methods in the dogma "For the Greater Good".
What was the world left with, he wondered, years after Dumbledore's demise and months after the decimation of the Rebellion? Not much, he was forced to conclude. A relatively stable government, a few political games, foreign tensions and upcoming conflicts. A leader whose sanity, he suspected, edged largely on the shoulders of troubled teen unconscious of his power over the Dark Lord. It was ironical that, by his dubious association with the Leader of Wizarding Britain, Harry had essentially became the only one that had some influence on him and, as such, the second most powerful political figure of the regime. "And the Dark Lord marked him as his equal", indeed.
The civil war reached its conclusion more than a decade ago, but children were still tied to its consequences. And helping this new generation was what he had tasked himself with.
Somebody had to, he thought with a sigh, noticing the late hour. He searched his desk for the research notes he had placed there earlier for his meeting with Harry. They had made considerable progress in their project, and Harry had proved himself a talented and invested Wardmaster, to his surprise. Self-interest did wonder for the boy's attention span. He couldn't say the same for Harry's performance in Potions, sadly. That part of the project was left solely to him, but he did not mind delving back in his old passion. He had even toyed a few times already with the idea of bringing Draco into the equation, to foster his godson's interest in Potions. It would also bring Harry and Draco closer, which could only be beneficial for both of them, as far as he could see.
Severus at last spotted his notes at the corner of his desk. His keen eyes narrowed in thought. He never placed his papers so far on the left of his desk. He preferred to have them within arm's reach and was quite exact in how everything was positioned in his workplace. Several factors could have influenced the place where he put the papers, such as, a non-centered chair, the slight slide that hastily dropped paper tended to have on smooth tables... the gap of two inches in the window behind him which could possibly have blown the papers forward given the proper angle of the wind and the right strength... but even if he allowed space for a certain error margin, he could not see how he could have put the papers so far on the outside on the desk. It was a close call, however. He formed the hypothesis that someone could have picked them up, read them, perhaps copied them (if the telling lack of dust on the upper left corner of his desk was an indication), and placed them back down in the approximate location they came from.
Severus got up smoothly, approaching the pile of papers slowly, examining the surroundings. The pile was neater than his had been, but the last sheets had moved slightly to the right, as if they had been dropped hastily on the desk. Not from a great height, however, or they would have spread more. He bent down and sniffed carefully the parchment. Standard Hogwarts bathroom soap, no identifiable perfume. A faint trace of ink covered fingerprint. Not complete enough for effective analysis. No dents, or folds in the paper. The person was careful. A long brown hair, on a chair next to the desk, but he had received Hermione Macmillan for their briefing that night and that girl's hair was just begging to be used for Polyjuice, leaving its unwanted gifts everywhere.
He traced the way back to the door of his office. One chair had been pushed out of the way. It was difficult to ascertain whether it had been done before or after his departure for the Dark Lord's Fortress. The three girls and Harry had moved the chairs around a bit, but the alignment of the gap between the pile of paper on his desk and the door was too obvious to be discarded completely. It went to confirm his theory of a hasty departure. The proximity spell on the area in front of the Gargoyles would have alerted him of a presence, if the person's escape had been prompted by his return by Floo. They had left at least a few minutes before his return, then. The person obviously had the password, but this didn't mean much considering that the prefects and Heads of House had the permission to give it out to anyone who might be tempted to come and talk to him. It might be sentimental of him, but he had never liked the secrecy surrounding the Headmaster's office that had been in place when he went to Hogwarts. Dumbledore had made it so that everyone summoned to his Office would feel special. After a few hours of fruitless wait in front of the Gargoyles to show the Headmaster the bruises he got from the Marauders, he certainly had not felt special to the old wizard.
A student or a professor, then. About average height, with a certain carefulness in how they handled the parchment. No frilly perfume, the good sense to wash their hands...afraid enough of being caught in the Headmaster's office to leave in a hurry before they got caught red-handed...no professor, then.
Frowning at how inconclusive his search was, he changed his point of focus to the papers in question.
Harry and he were attempting to create personal wards to prevent aligned (Light or Dark) ambient magic from affecting their bearer. Unbeknownst to Harry, the Dark Lord had accepted to fund the research costs (namely, the books and Potion ingredients) because he hoped to extend the project to area wards for Hogwarts. If the wards worked, after all, they could try to teach more advanced Dark Arts to a select talented few without poisoning the rest of the students. Yearlong practise would help the Dark students to maintain a certain magical stability while allowing them to develop their skills further than the current summer tutoring in their family houses.
As far as research projects sponsored by the Dark Lord went, this one was relatively tame in appearance. He said "in appearance" because anything that came close to playing with magical containment needed to be flagged as delicate and potentially destructive. What Harry sought to achieve was some sort of magical filter. What they were toying with, in practice, was the interaction between ambient and inner magic in a magical Being. His task in this project was to not only design the Potion to limit the effect of the ward to one individual, but also to prevent Harry from creating something that blocked someone's magic from interacting with ambient Magic to form spells. He would report back to his Master his conclusion on the feasibility of the second ward without informing Harry of what ignominious invention he would be partly responsible for. Severus was not sure of whether he would really tell the Dark Lord if he found out that magical block in the form of a ward, or that something more permanent tied to a certain person, was possible.
That somebody copied their research notes was worrying. Severus doubted that whoever took them could infer the dangerous ramifications of their project just by glancing at the notes, but caution and extensive enquiries were advisable. His first move, upon reaching this conclusion, was to activate the monitoring of all communications from Hogwarts to the rest of the world. He wasn't sure whether to inform the Dark Lord, or even Harry of this development. He would see first if he could find the culprit on his own before blowing this out of proportion. He might have underestimated the range of his arm; he might have misread the signs. He did not want to bring down the Dark Lord's fury and currently unstable temper on him unnecessarily. Tomorrow, he would start doing a deeper enquiry among the student body.
He frowned, examining his conclusion, before glancing at the pile of papers lying innocently on the table. Perhaps he had been too hasty in thinking that they had been moved from where he put them. Only time would tell. He swept out of the room, the lights extinguishing themselves when he stepped in his bed chambers.
Had he looked out of his office window at that moment, he would have seen the gleaming silhouette of an owl disappearing in the horizon, already far from Hogwarts' wards, a stack of parchment between its talons.
So, two Horcruxes down in one day, plans for a dangerous ward potentially stolen, our favourite Dark Lord's fragile sanity...things are heating up!
Let me know what you thought of it! Thank you in advance for reviewing :)