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Onward into the Breach	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8398 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in anyway, shape or form. The rights of such belong solely to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money or accrue any monetary benefit on this story.

Chapter List
- 13
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- 15
The Slytherin students were unceremoniously dumped on the floor where Severus hit each one with a Stunning Spell. Then he spun on Harry, slamming him so hard into the wall that he flinched.
He yelled into Harry’s face, spittle flying out to fleck the rounded spectacles. His relief at having Harry safe warred so violently with his rage at the boy’s temerity that he was almost physically sick. “What in the name of Circe were you playing at? That was a very foolhardy, reckless and dim-witted thing to do! Do you think, for one second, that any of them would have returned the favor if your positions had been reversed?”
Harry gazed at him steadily. “No. But you risked your life to protect Draco last year. Well, the other you, anyway. And you were searching for him tonight. So I reckon it’s what you would have done.”
Stunned, Severus let his hands drop. Had his counterpart done that? He hadn’t known. Whatever kind of blackguard that other Snape was, he remained loyal to the students of his house. And Harry had honored his wish by saving Draco’s life. Such a – Gryffindor thing to do.
The silly warmth he felt inside changed abruptly to a violent stinging on his left arm. He stiffened and gasped. He hadn’t felt that in 16 years and he was unable to hide his reaction from Harry.
“What is it, Severus?”
“I was injured coming up the stairs – an encounter with another Death Eater,” he lied smoothly.
“Oh, where are you hurt, Professor?” Hermione asked.
“It’s minor. Don’t concern yourself.”
“Harry, mate, do you have the diadem?”
Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I dropped it and it got covered in flames. I’m sorry, everybody.”
“Don’t be, Harry. Fiendfyre is one of the few spells that can destroy a Horcrux.”
The others gaped at Severus. “Why you didn’t tell us this before? It could have saved us a hell of a lot of trouble!” Ron demanded.
“It’s a very advanced form of the Dark Arts, not well known or widely practiced. It is not to be attempted by amateurs since it easily rages out of control unless you know the counterspell,” Severus responded, giving a very disapproving glare to the bound Slytherins at his feet.
“Lucky you were here, Snape, otherwise we’d have lost one of these gormless idiots.” Ron looked like he was resisting the urge to kick Draco while he was down.
Hermione got a thoughtful expression and Harry knew she was storing this information for the future. She resumed her usual brisk tone. “Now what, Harry?”
“Now – ” Harry paused, abruptly remembering the listening Slytherin students. He muttered, “Muffliato.”
“Harry?” Severus eyed him. He had grown to distrust that tense look on Harry’s face. It meant he was about to do something stupid.
“I have to go to Voldemort.”
It was exactly what he dreaded to hear. The stunned and fearful looks on the faces of Harry’s friends echoed his terror.
“What?”
“Harry, no!”
“Hermione, all these people are fighting because of me. If I don’t kill him, then all the destruction of the Horcruxes doesn’t mean anything. I have to go to him. Now, before he figures out all of his soul shards are destroyed.”
“Except for Nagini,” Ron pointed out.
“That’s another reason to go. She’s still with him. If I get close enough to him…”
“He will not let you anywhere near,” Severus protested.
“I’ll be under my Cloak.”
“You mean, we’ll be under your Cloak,” Hermione corrected.
Harry shook his head. “Not this time, Hermione.” When she opened her mouth, he said, “All three of us just don’t fit any more and this isn’t the time to go shuffling around, hoping he won’t hear us or spot our feet.”
“One of us can go with you, mate. This isn’t something you should charge into alone,” Ron protested.
“And which one should it be? Do you really want to be separated, neither one of you knowing what’s happened to the other?”
Ron hesitated, blue eyes darting to Hermione. She bit her lip, looking down at the floor. It was all the distraction Harry needed. He slipped on the Cloak…
“Harry, no! Come back!” Hermione cried.
…and ran as fast as his feet could take him. He heard someone speeding after him and instantly muffled his footsteps. He darted into an alcove, holding his breath.
Ron and Hermione pelted past him, calling out his name. Brilliant, they’d alert any Death Eater nearby that he was around. Hopefully, they would shut up before the fighting reached them.
He let out his breath slowly and then frowned. Why hadn’t Severus been with them?
__________
“My Lord, the battle has begun, has it not?”
“It has indeed, Lucius,” Voldemort murmured in his piercing voice. It was like the unbearable scraping of nails clawing against glass and the Malfoy scion’s nerves were strained as always just from hearing it.
Lucius Malfoy was looking very much the worse for wear. His once pristine blond hair was disheveled, his clothes mussed and dirtied in spots. There were bruises about his face. One eye had swelled alarmingly until he could see only through the other one. But his physical injuries were nothing compared to the tension lancing through him with every muted scream he could discern through the walls.
He shifted again on the battered chair where he sat. The Shrieking Shack was filthy. He was certain there were vermin about the place. But his Lord had deemed it suitably secured from any invasion while they spoke at leisure.
He attempted to maintain his dignity and spoke carefully to his dread Lord. “Let me join the fighting, my Lord. I trust my courage has never been at fault.”
“The fighting at Hogwarts?” Voldemort said, indifference coloring his voice. He held a slender rod of elder in his hands, turning it this way and that, like a new toy he was dying to try out.
“Yes. If you would let me go…”
“Do you think I don’t know why you are so eager to join the fray, Lucius? You hope to locate your son and bring him out of danger. Surely he has fled with all the other Slytherin students by now? The Malfoys were always adept at avoiding peril to their own skins.”
Lucius insisted, “We are loyal to you, my Lord.”
“Loyalty that should be placed above that of your own flesh and blood, Lucius.” A menacing edge crept into his tone.
“Of course! That is why I wish to prove myself in battle.”
“Without a wand? Such lies, Lucius. You disappoint me. But then your whole family has proved less than useful to me these past days. You had Potter in your grasp and you let him escape. If your son dies, it is the least of what you owe me for your bungling performances of late.” Voldemort’s voice had gone entirely flat now and Lucius fell silent.
Thick and pressing was the quiet that fell then. Lucius strained to hear more of the fighting. But all he heard were the muffled cries in the distance. It made the terrified pounding of his heart deafening. He hoped Voldemort did not hear it.
“The only one who has shown himself worthy of my estimation has been Severus Snape. That is why I have Summoned him to me. I am expecting him to join me soon. You are free to go now. But…” he added sharply when Lucius rose, “you are not to go to the school. Meet me with the others at the clearing in the forest. I am expecting Potter to arrive there.”
“My Lord, how can you be so sure he will come?”
“Because I know Potter all too well. He has always been the self-sacrificing type. It is the only way to ensure that no one else dies at the hands of my Death Eaters and their allies. He will come. And it will be the death of him and all he holds dear.”
The Dark Lord swept out a hand, withered and white as bone. “Leave me.”
Lucius bowed and ran quickly out of the Whomping Willow. One outside, the noises of battle from the castle were much louder.
He hesitated briefly. He longed to race up to the school, to look for sign of his only son. But such rebellion never lasted long. Just the memory of what Voldemort did to those who failed or disobeyed him was enough to cow his spirit.
He slapped on his mask and hurried to the rendezvous point.
__________
Severus walked with a steady stride to the Shrieking Shack. It had been difficult to find an unimpeded way out of the castle. But his knowledge of the hidden passageways had served him well. In any case, it seemed the Whomping Willow kept the beleaguered fighters and their attackers far from its branches.
With the call to his former master’s side had come the icy voice within him detailing where he was meant to go. He had hoped never to hear that voice again, had lived 16 blissful years without it after the terrible death of his friend James Potter.
The Shrieking Shack. How well he remembered the site from his student years…
After due conference with his friends, James had revealed the awful affliction of Remus Lupin. Severus had been eager to see the transformation into werewolf with his own eyes. But James had strictly forbidden it. Any human being would be in terrible danger from the lycanthrope. James only managed to stay alive in his presence because he, like his fellow Gryffindor mates, had learned to become their animal Animaguses.
Severus had been impressed by that feat. But even the warning from one of his best friends hadn’t been enough to deter him and, one full moon, he had slipped into the shack to see it with his own eyes.
He had barely escaped with his life. The transformed Remus had been fast, terrifyingly so, much more than the young Severus had expected. He would have been torn to pieces if not for James’s timely intervention.
Severus owed James his life. He was touched beyond measure when James had refused to call in that debt.
In this world, James Potter was dead as was Lily. The only one left to Severus was their son, Harry. Yet the differences in this Harry became plainer the longer Severus knew him. He was braver, more foolish, less certain, more awkward and sadder than the young Slytherin he’d known.
Yet Severus loved him. He loved him even more fiercely and he realized he did so for his own sake, not for any pale reflection of the hand-fasted mate he’d left.
This Gryffindor idiot had much more heart in him than his own beloved. Would his Harry have suffered weeks in the wilderness hunting for cursed objects? Would he have ridden on the back of a dragon or robbed an impregnable bank or killed one of the most dangerous beasts known to the Wizarding world without boasting of it? Would he have risked his neck to save three treacherous students from another house?
His Harry had never had to face such dangers. In spite of the loss of his father, he had lived a carefree and blissful life. He had not been tempered in battle or forced into early maturity as this Harry had.
Severus thought of the warmth of that wiry body as Harry lay in his arms in Shell Cottage. He smiled at the memory of training with him on the beach. He savored that final passionate kiss they’d shared. No matter what happened next, if he took nothing more from this Harry, he would be contented.
Stooping uncomfortably, he made his way along the cramped corridor to where his Lord awaited.
__________
Harry raced, his breath burning his lungs, heart beating wildly in his chest. In spite of the battle ranging around him, it had been easy to dodge the various spells and hexes being cast. Less than half an hour ago, he had been tempted to forget about the Horcruxes and throw himself into the fray. But the threat to Severus outweighed all such concerns.
It had been too easy to see in Voldemort’s mind. Their connection seemed all the stronger now that the Dark Lord was so close. There hadn’t even been any surge of emotion this time, only the clear image of Lucius Malfoy cringing in the corner of the Shrieking Shack while Voldemort toyed with the Elder Wand.
The dissatisfaction coursing through Voldemort had been all too obvious. Harry just didn’t know the cause of it. The hairless bastard had the Elder Wand; his Death Eaters were storming the castle; he knew Harry was coming to him. What had his knickers in a twist this time?
Lucius was gone now and Severus had been Summoned to his former Lord’s side. The bastard – why hadn’t Severus told him?
It didn’t matter. Harry would just have to follow and hope he caught up to him in time. He had closed his mind to the white-faced maniac. Hopefully, neither he nor Severus knew he was on his way.
He paused near the Whomping Willow, gulping for air after his frantic run. One way or another it ended here. This was…the final close.
I open at the close. This was it, then. Harry reached for the moleskin bag at his neck. Opening it, he groped inside until he touched the battered Snitch. Harry drew it out and pressed it to his lips.
“I am going to die,” he whispered.
The Snitch opened up and the Resurrection Stone revealed himself to his fingers. It was small. In the darkness he knew it mostly by touch. He held it up in one hand and turned it three times.
Three simmering shapes appeared. Lily Potter was a wavering silver specter, her smile the brightest thing in the world. “Hello again, Harry.”
“Mum.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. She looked just the same as she had in fourth year – no older than 20 years old, only three years older than him. “I-I…it’s good to see you again.”
“We’ve always been with you, son,” James Potter answered and raised his hand as though he would touch his only child.
“You have?”
“Since you were very young. We’ve always been watching over you,” Lily said.
“Even if we couldn’t be there to protect you,” James added. “Never doubt we were always with you when it counted.”
Sirius grinned at him. Gone was the haunted, hollow-eyed man who’d seemed beset by his own personal demons even after escaping from Azkaban. He stood tall and gave Harry a wide grin. In him, Harry could see the handsome, cocky young man who had defied tradition to be put into Gryffindor House.
“Harry, you’re looking well. You look more and more like James every day.”
The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. “Sirius, I’m sorry. If I had only opened your package, I wouldn’t have been at the Ministry that day and you…”
Sirius held up a ghostly hand. Harry could see the tree trunk faintly through it. “Now you’ve got to stop that, Harry. It wasn’t your fault. It was Bellatrix who sent me through that Veil, not you. You went there to rescue someone you cared about. That was a brave thing you did. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. T-that means a lot.”
James glanced up at the Whomping Willow. “Sirius, mate, doesn’t this place bring back memories?”
Sirius cocked his head, looking oddly like his dog Animagus. “I’ll say. Remember that time Remus got fleas? I was itching for hours until I got my hands on the Removal Powder.”
“Dad? I was wondering how to get through. The branches won’t let me near the secret knot.”
James smiled, his grin rakish. “Well, are you a wizard or aren’t you?”
All he had to do was press the spot of the trunk. What had Ron done once? “Wingardium Leviosa,” he called. Draco’s wand zipped through the air, a wooden dart, and unerringly hit a spot on the base of the tree. Instantly, the thrashing branches went still.
“That’s my boy,” James smiled.
“Best of luck, Harry,” said Sirius. “Not that you’ll need it.”
He turned towards his parents. “Mum, Dad, if I don’t survive this…”
“Keep up hope, no matter what, my son,” Lily murmured.
Harry nodded. Then he grasped the Resurrection Stone and threw it as hard as he could in the darkness. With luck, it would remain overlooked in the battle and no one would ever find it on the vast school grounds.
The shining figures vanished. Pulling the Cloak tightly over his head, he crept down the secret passage.
Light showed dimly through the other end of the tunnel. He was getting close to his goal now. He edged through, holding tightly to the edge of the Cloak lest it snag on something, and stopped.
There was a crate propped against the hole, leaving only a thin gap through which the light shone. Through that gap he saw a hand, thin and ashy white, fondling a wand.
“Severus, I am glad you have come. Lately, you have been unavailable to me.”
“Forgive me, my Lord. I have been tracking the boy. I believe I know where he can be found.”
“Do you, Severus? Well, I don’t doubt you. You have been so very devoted to me. But I am certain Potter will come to me. So you needn’t trouble yourself about him.”
Harry shifted slightly, trying to widen his field of view. Now Nagini could be seen. The snake was no longer draped around her master’s neck. Instead, she floated in a translucent, bluish bubble in mid-air. It was obviously meant to protect her and Harry scanned it carefully.
What kind of spell would break that bubble and kill the beast inside? He ran through all the charms, hexes and curses Severus had taught him, everything he had learned while heading Dumbledore’s Army. Without knowing what kind of spell was used to create that bubble, nothing he cast might be effective and a failed attempt would give away his position.
Severus stepped into view. He was approaching Nagini, eyeing her warily. But his voice was calm and measured as always.
“Why have you Summoned me, my Lord? I was on the verge of capturing the Potter boy. I could have brought him to you. Then this fighting would stop. I know you don’t want the blood of your pureblood followers needlessly spilled.”
“Such concern for your fellow Death Eaters, Severus. It is admirable.” There was a pause and now Harry felt it: a growing ache behind his scar.
“But bringing Harry Potter to me means nothing if I cannot defeat him.”
“You hold the Elder Wand, my Lord. Surely…”
“The wand does not work for me as it should, Severus.” Voldemort’s voice was flat with disappointment.
“It doesn’t?”
“No. I can perform my usual spells with it. There is no loss of control. But there has been no increase in power either. It does no better for me than the wand I bought from Ollivander’s shop years ago when I was a boy. Why do you think that is?”
Severus’s eyes were still on Nagini. His right hand had drifted casually over his left sleeve, where his wand lay hidden. “I do not know, my Lord.”
“I have not mastered the wand, Severus, because I have not mastered the wizard who last held it.”
Voldemort was striding back and forth in the small space, his agitation obvious. The pain in Harry’s head had increased until his eyes watered.
“My Lord? I don’t understand.”
“Severus, the wand passes from one hand to another, from the wizard who holds it to the wizard who kills him. I did not best Dumbledore. You did when you killed him.”
Severus was no longer looking at the snake. All of his attention was focused on his erstwhile master. “That does not matter. The wand is yours.”
“Not rightfully earned, Severus. Until I kill the wizard who bested Dumbledore, the wand is not truly mine.” The Dark Lord gestured and the bubble streaked towards Severus. “You have been faithful to me.
I do regret this.”
Whatever Voldemort intended, it couldn’t be good. Harry brought out his wand and aimed at Nagini. Channeling all his will, he thought, “Imperio!”
The bubble landed on Severus’s head. Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue, “Kill.”
The snake twisted in her prison but did not strike. Red eyes narrowed in perplexity. “Why do you hesitate, my pet? Strike! Kill him!”
Severus tensed but it was only for a moment. Then his wand whipped out and he shouted a spell Harry didn’t recognize.
Orange yellow flame shot from his wand and hit the bubble. With a pop, it split open, spilling its precious cargo. The snake landed gracelessly on the floor.
Severus was already in motion, springing away from her, crying out, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” The green fire hit the mass of white coils and Nagini rolled over, dead at Severus’s feet.
“NO!” Voldemort roared. He aimed at Severus, hissing, “You traitor!”
“You’ve got a knack for stating the obvious, Tom.”
Voldemort froze. “Who said that?”
Harry had wanted to distract him, long enough to keep him from harming or killing Severus, and the ploy worked. He levitated the crate and it flew to the other side of the enclosure, splintering with a resounding crash.
Harry stepped out, dropping his Cloak behind him. He moved in front of Severus. “Hello, Tom. I know it’s after midnight. But better late than never.”
“Harry, you idiot,” Severus snarled. Harry ignored him.
Voldemort had recovered his poise. “So the Gryffindor coward finally decides to reveal himself. I was beginning to believe you were going to let everyone else fight while you hid safely behind the castle walls.”
“You’re a funny one to talk about hiding. You haven’t shown your ugly face in public since the Ministry fell.”
“Do you think to defeat me, Harry? I hold the Elder Wand.”
“You and dozens of others. Tell me, do you feel any remorse?”
“What?”
“Do you feel any remorse? For the lives you took? My parents, Cedric Diggory, all those innocents you murdered for no better reason than they refused to follow your party line? Any regrets at all?”
Laughter, high, spectral and icy, answered him. “Do you jest, Potter? Do you expect me to break down, to shed tears? Do you think Snape felt any remorse when he killed Dumbledore?”
“This man didn’t kill Dumbledore,” Harry answered calmly. He could feel the heat from Severus burning at his back. It was comforting and he didn’t spare any thought as to why it should be so.
“Are you insane? Of course he killed him! He sent him flying off the tower! My faithful followers told me so and you confirmed it by prattling to the few who would heed your words. Are you telling me now that you’re ignorant of this fact?”
“I don’t have time to tell you just how wrong you are about this man or how badly you screwed up, Tom.”
“It is Lord Voldemort to you, boy!” Voldemort hissed, incensed.
“As if I give a rat’s arse. But, in any case, it wasn’t Severus who defeated Dumbledore on the tower that night.”
“He killed him.”
“It doesn’t matter who killed the Headmaster. Dumbledore had already been disarmed by Draco. The Elder Wand passed to the Malfoy prat by right. Then I defeated Draco in a wandfight and took his wand. This wand,” Harry added, tapping his side with the length of hawthorn. “And the wand chooses the wizard.”
Unease flickered in Voldemort’s red eyes. But he had come too far, given up too much, to yield now. Harry’s wand came up and the Dark Lord screamed out the Killing Curse.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”
“Expelliarmus!”
With a crackle of violent energy, both spells collided in the space between them. The wand went spinning out of Voldemort’s hand as Harry snatched it neatly out of the air. The Elder Wand passed to the hand of its new owner and the terrible Dark Lord crashed to the floor, felled by his own Killing Curse.
The sounds of battle, unnoticed before, rushed back in during the stillness that followed. Harry swayed and fingers bit into his shoulders, holding him in place.
“That was the most imbecilic thing you could have done.”
“Please….”
Severus spun him around, glaring into his face. “How could you even know the wand would choose you?”
“Severus, don’t. Not now,” Harry murmured. He was exhausted, barely holding himself upright at this point. Since rushing to join Severus for the assault on Gringotts, he had been hours without sleep. One crisis had erupted into the next without a moment for rest: the flight from the impregnable bank; the search for the Ravenclaw Horcrux; the fight with Malfoy in the Room of Requirement and now this.
With his enemy dead at his feet, he should have felt something – joy, relief, pride. But he was too weary. Reaction at having finally defeated the creature responsible for the deaths of so many would catch up with him, no doubt. For now he didn’t want to hear anything about it.
Severus seemed to understand. Waving his wand, he levitated the body of his former master into the air. “Do not think you are getting off so easily, Potter. We shall be having a discussion about your reckless proclivities.”
“I’m a Gryffindor, Snape. Recklessness goes with the territory.”
Severus huffed through his nostrils. “You were better as a Slytherin.”
Harry gave him a lopsided grin. “That’s your job.”
They marched through the wider corridor of the Shack, Voldemort’s body bobbing along in front of them. A similar scene unfolded in Harry’s memory from three years ago: Sirius levitating Snape’s body after he’d been hit with a triple spell from Harry and his friends.
Severus glanced at him. “What’s so amusing?”
He hadn’t realized he’d laughed out loud. “Nothing. I’ll tell you some other time.”

TBC
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Onward into the Breach