A/N This chapter has some lines taken from the original book 4

CHAPTER 26

Harry's Nightmare

He found himself standing before a very peculiar scene. A scene where he was facing the back of an armchair and Peter Pettigrew, that is the man referred to as Peter Pettigrew on the newspapers, standing before the armchair, doing something with his hands. But he couldn't see what he was doing because of the backrest that blocked his view.

"Move me closer to the fire Wormtail." commanded a very familiar high-pitched, cold voice coming from the chair.

He saw Pettigrew put down a feeder-bottle and push the armchair towards the fireplace with a roaring fire so bright, he would have been able to see who was sitting on the chair, but to his annoyance, he was again facing the back of the chair.

The fire, being the only source of light in the room cast spidery shadows on the walls.

"Where's Nagini?" said the voice of Lord Voldemort.

"I do not know, My Lord," Pettigrew answered smoothly. "i believe she's about exploring this house..…"

"You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail," Voldemort's voice commanded. "I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

Pettigrew stood aside besides the armchair, looking down at his master with an expression of adoration for a moment and then said, "My Lord, how long are we going to stay here, if I may ask..."

"A week...Perhaps longer. This place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over."

"Are we going to inform the others of this plan, my Lord?"

"Not at the moment, Wormtail. They will have to trust their judgement and I shall judge their loyalty. By the time we are done, I will know how many are truly worthy of being my servants and how many are not."

There was another moment of silence, after which Wormtail spoke, "But my Lord, why is it important that we wait until the World Cup is over?"

"Because, you useless fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait."

"Your Lordship is still determined, then?"

"Certainly I am determined, Wormtail." Voldemort's voice said menacingly.

And after a length of silence he noticed Pettigrew hesitate and say, "It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord."

"Without Harry Potter?" Voldemort's voice hissed. "I see..."

"My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!" Pettigrew said, nervousness making its way to the front for the first time. "The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard — any wizard — the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while — you know that I can disguise myself most effectively — I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable person —"

"I could use another wizard," said Voldemort's cold voice, "that is true. …"

"My Lord, it makes sense," cautiously wheedled Wormtail "Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected —"

"And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute?" Voldemort's voice was venomous, "I wonder … perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?"

"My Lord! I have no wish to leave you, none at all —"

"Do not lie to me!" hissed Voldemort's voice. "I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you trying to repress a flinch when you look at me, feel you repressing shudder when you touch me. …"

"No! I adore you! I worship you! My Lord, you are my only hope—"

"Exactly! Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice and debt. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, My Lord —" Pettigrew argued.

"Liar," breathed the voice of Voldemort. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"

And Pettigrew shut up.

"I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you," Voldemort's voice said from the chair after a while, "and I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath —"

"My Lord, I must speak!" said Wormtail, panic in his voice now. "All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head — My Lord, Bertha Jorkins's disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I murder —"

"If?" whispered Voldemort's voice. "If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry need never know that anyone else has died. You will do it quietly and without fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition.… Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Harry Potter is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful servant, someone who everyone thought to be dead, will have rejoined us —"

"I am a faithful servant," said Pettigrew, the merest trace of sullenness in his voice. "And I was thought to be dead too."

"Wormtail, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you and some of the others apparently waiting for me, unfortunately, fulfill neither requirement."

"I found you," said Pettigrew said sulkily now. "I was the one who found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins."

"That is true," said Voldemort's voice, sounding amused. "A stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail — though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you caught her, were you?"

"I — I thought she might be useful, My Lord —"

"Liar," said Voldemort's voice again, sounding cruelly amused. "However, do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform. …"

"R-really, My Lord? What — ?" said Pettigrew looking eager, all traces of nervousness gone.

"Ah, Wormtail, you don't want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end … but I promise you, you will have the honor of being just as useful as Bertha Jorkins."

"You … you …" Pettigrew said, sounding petrified now, the reflection of the flames on his face making it look terrible in his fear. "You … are going … to kill me too?"

"Wormtail, Wormtail," said Voldemort's voice said silkily, "why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns. …"

Pettigrew said quietly, "We could have had her memory modified, My Lord."

Voldemort's voice broke out with sadistic, mirthless, cold laughter, "We could have modified her memory? But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail.

"One more murder … my faithful servant at Hogwarts … Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet …I think I hear Nagini. …

"Come my dear! We have need of you, my precious one. Come in here, Nagini."

He watched as a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long slither into the room.

"Master," it hissed as it curled itself up comfortably onn the rotting carpet. "There is a human, advanced in age, standing by the entrance. It doesn't appear to have the gift of magic..."

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail." Voldemort's voice said.

""In-indeed, My Lord?" said Pettigrew, now looking more terrified than before.

"Indeed, yes," said Voldemort's voice. "According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."

Pettigrew rushed to the door, walking through him as if he didn't exist and he flung open the door. He saw an old man, dressed for the outdoors, leaning on a walking stick and looking absolutely terrified.

"Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?" Voldemort's voice said.

Pettigrew beckoned to the man and the old man hesitated for a little while before limping into the room, now looking a little more sure of himself.

"You heard everything, Muggle?" said the cold voice of Voldemort.

"What's that you're calling me?" said the Muggle man defiantly.

"I am calling you a Muggle," said Voldemort's voice coolly. "It means that you are not a wizard."

"I don't know what you mean by wizard," said the man, his voice growing steadier. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too, my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back —"

"You have no wife," said Voldemort's voice, very quietly.

"Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows … he always knows. …"

"Is that right?" the man said dangerously. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, My Lord. Turn 'round and face me like a man, why don't you?"

"But I am not a man, Muggle," said Voldemort's voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man. However … why not? I will face you. … Wormtail, come turn my chair around."

Pettigrew gingerly approached the armchair and the snake by the side hissed as a leg of the chair snagged its rug.

And as it turned, he saw for the first time, a very ugly baby like creature holding onto a wand and he started to scream along with the Muggle man and he screamed as the creature with Voldemort's voice raised its wand and a familiar green light hit the man by his side and he continued screaming as the man fell to the floor, dead, and he screamed as the snake approached the man and swallowed him whole, leaving nothing behind, but a walking stick.

And it was as he screamed that he woke up and Harry Potter found himself surrounded by his family...Ethan, Blaire, Neville, Draco, Dudley, Aunt Petunia, Narcissa and very surprisingly, Prof too.

But Harry didn't dwell on them at the present time. He was trying, with growing horror, to process what he saw. His skin felt clammy and clothes were wet and he was vaguely aware that he was shivering and his scar was burning terribly. There was a hand on his shoulder, Ethan's hand that seemed to be the only thing in the world that kept him grounded. And as much as he wanted it there, he wanted to get it off him, for Harry wanted to leap off the bed and run...run until it was safe to come back.

Every shadow over the room gave Harry the feeling that Voldemort was hiding in the darkness and Harry could just about imagine his cold laughter. His fear stricken mind was causing the shadows to move ever so slightly and Harry couldn't suppress a shudder everytime he thought of Pettigrew pulling that armchair with the sickest, ugliest looking creature bundled up in it. The dream seemed too real for his subconscious mind to make up, and Harry's fear was only heightening.

"V-V-Voldemort." was all he managed to say as he put his hand to his scar, and that was enough for Prof to kick everyone out of the room despite their protests. Then he settled himself on the bed and put an arm around Harry and gently coaxed him to tell him about the nightmare, that seemed to be slowly escaping his mind.

And Harry told him everything he could remember. The Prof listened silently making notes on a piece of parchment, that he'd taken out from his pocket along with a pen. Every now and then he'd interrupt Harry, making certain points clear by asking questions. And when Harry had finished, he went to the table from where he scribbled something on a piece of paper and put it through the slit on the table and soon seven mugs appeared at the table and Harry looked at the watch and saw that it was a little before one in the morning.

Prof handed him a mug that contained hot chocolate and then he called the others in and said, "You may tell them what happened, Harry. However, I must be heading to Hogwarts immediately. The Headmaster must be made aware of this...And Ethan, Blaire and Harry, you remember I told you on Christmas day in ninety one, that a point would come where you would have to look after Venn for me?"

Harry nodded with the rest, his heart sinking gradually. Prof thought his dream to be true then! How was Harry even able to witness something so grotesque? Forget about that! What was going to happen to Prof? He was going to return to his post as spy the moment Voldemort returned. Would Voldemort know that he was looking after Harry and his siblings?

Had they played their part well? Were the children of the followers of Voldemort satisfied that Prof hated them? Or were they aware of the truth? If they were aware, would Voldemort hurt Prof? Would Prof also die like that Muggle man?

No! Harry couldn't bear the thought. It hurt too much to even consider a life without Severus Snape there by their side always ready to lend a helping hand whenever he could. He was always there for them...he couldn't go.

Prof continued, "I'm afraid that the time has come. I shall send her here as soon as I finish with the meeting...After you lot are done go back to sleep. Nothing can hurt you in this place."

"You are coming back here, Prof, aren't you?" Blaire asked hesitantly just as Harry said in a choked voice, "Don't go back, Prof, please."

Prof gave them a sad smile and said, "I will come whenever I can. I'm not sure what the new academic year holds. But I shall try to visit you lot for the rest of the holidays... I don't want you to worry about anything of what Harry dreamt for now...Harry, you know what will happen if I don't go."

Harry sighed and lowered his head in a slow nod. Prof was always there for them, so much so, he'd put his life at risk to keep them safe. Prof was indeed a very brave man.

Prof sighed and after a while, he said, "Put on that television and press the buttons six, two, four, four, two in a sequence and you will get a perfect view of the Quidditch match the day after tomorrow...Good night."

And before anyone could say anything, or put in a protest, or ask him for further explanation or offer any form of comfort, Prof was already flooing to his quarters.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Severus dashed to Dumbledore's office and knocked on the closed door. He knocked, then knocked again and as he expected, he received no response. So he conjured a patronus and sent the doe soaring away to Dumbledore's quarters wherever they were and waited patiently by the door.

The door was opened seven minutes later by a very worried Albus Dumbledore in a dressing robe. He led Severus in, and the latter, wasting no time in preliminaries, immediately began reciting whatever Harry told him.

Dumbledore didn't interrupt him, but maintained an expression of thought throughout Severus's tale and when Severus had finished speaking, he continued to remain in silence.

Severus frowned and asked, "Do you get the feeling that all that was just a dream?"

Dumbledore shook his head silently and then said, "It was more of a vision."

"A vision?" Severus said surprised.

Dumbledore nodded.

Severus said, "How was it able to get into Harry's head?"

Dumbledore sighed sadly and said, "From what you have told me, Severus, I believe that scar doesn't only hold the residues of the Avada Kedavra that was cast on him on that Halloween night of eighty one, but a connection as well."

"A connection?"

"It looks as if a bit of Voldemort's magic decided to leave it's owner and reside in the head of that boy, or something with a similar explanation. We can't be too sure. All we can do is wait."

Severus's heart sank as he said, "Is he being possessed?"

Dumbledore shook his head firmly and said, "Not at all. I don't believe Voldemort is aware of what is happening either...You know what, Severus. It's just a haunch, but, will you be able to teach those children Occlumency?"

Severus said quietly, "I've already taught them Occlumency."

"Wonderful, Severus! Are they good enough?"

"Quite."

"Excellent. Get them all to make use of it each night before going to bed...I believe it will help."

Severus nodded. "Do you think Blaire and Ethan will also be subjected to these visions?"

"I cannot say, Severus." Dumbledore said sadly. "You must tell them my reasoning of the connection. That would probably get them to practice Occlumency with more seriousness. We can't let... What's the matter?"

Severus had interrupted Dumbledore with an agonised hiss as his right had moved to clutch his left forearm...the immense pain, familiar, but quite unlike what Severus was used to, passed off as soon as it came. It wasn't a call.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly, as Severus pulled back his left robe sleeve to see that his Dark Mark had become darker. He showed it to Dumbledore.

"Are you in pain?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus shook his head, "It went off just as soon as it came...it wasn't a call. It's happened before."

"When?"

"On that Halloween night...I had thought back then, that it was a sign of his defeat. I'm not quite sure now. Do you think there's a chance that Pettigrew has used the Avada Kedavra on him?"

"No, Severus." Dumbledore said. "Your mark is connected to Voldemort, not to his wand. This mark is connected to his body and soul. And you probably felt that pain back then in eighty one because his body was separating from his soul. His original followers may have all suffered that pain more than once."

"What do you mean, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore sighed and said sadly, "I think he's made another Horcrux."

Severus looked startled, "Are you sure?"

"Not completely, but I believe Voldemort decided to make his seventh Horcrux after killing this Muggle man. He probably didn't want to risk anymore time...Perhaps, he waited for Pettigrew to leave the room before he went on with it... I will keep in touch with the Muggle newspapers and try to find out who went missing. Then maybe I'll approach Voldemort-"

"You're going there all alone?" Severus said incredulously.

"Of course." Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Voldemort is in too much of a weakened state to fight me."

"But-" Severus began looking around wildly.

"Severus," Dumbledore said patiently. "You know as well as I do that trouble that's nipped in the bud is-"

"What about the existing Horxruxes?" Severus interrupted.

"Ah. We're going to have to find the locket and this new one that's been made... Did Harry tell you if he saw anything being treasured in that room aside from Nagini?"

Severus shook his head.

"And the house did indeed look abandoned?"

Severus shrugged, "That's what the conversation implied. He wouldn't pick up a house with inhabitants, now, would he?"

Dumbledore let out a long breath and said nothing.

tbc...