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Welcome, The Darkness Infused	By : Prophecies Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5135 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5. Revelation

They were
alone.

Ron and Hermione
had looked at Harry, hesitated, then looked at Snape�s murderous expression and
fled.

McGonagall had
tried to communicate with Snape silently, but he had steadfastly ignored her
attempts and declined to look at her, his gaze still locked with Harry�s. She
had walked off in a huff and Harry swore he had heard her grouse something about
�Pig-headedness and arrogant Slytherins disregarding
help�.

Madam Pomfrey had
simply refused to be ordered around in her own Hospital Wing, and had left only
when a particularly vicious current of Harry�s raging magic had almost knocked
her unconscious with a bottle of Skelegro.

If Snape wanted
to talk, fine, Harry thought heatedly, they could talk. He would let Snape say
whatever he wanted to say, considering that Harry already knew that it wouldn�t
make a difference to him anyway. Then find Madam Pomfrey and make her give him his things back so he
could finally leave for Godric�s Hollow.

But Snape wasn�t
talking; Snape was just standing there with the superior, smooth mask of disdain
that had formed on his face as soon as the door of the infirmary had closed shut
with a �wham� behind a rattled Madam
Pomfrey.

He eyed his
former professor warily, as random medical equipment continued to soar by his
line of vision by his blazing untamed magic.

He was still just
so angry.

Ron and Hermione,
his best friends of almost seven years were afraid of him; his mind just couldn�t
comprehend their trepidation. He still saw the stricken look Hermione had worn
when she had asked him to listen to Snape and it made him
furious.

Listen to
Snape, honestly! The thought alone made him sick to the stomach. Just because he
did not feel the urge to kill the bastard outright, did not mean he was suddenly going to obey
his every whim.

He could feel his
and the Releaser�s magic crackle around him in gusts of power, causing the
lights of the infirmary to falter and flicker unnervingly over the sharp
features of the Potions Master in front of
him.

�Well, what do
you want?� he finally managed to ground out; after it became abundantly clear
that Snape would not be engaging him in conversation anytime soon.

Snape narrowed
his eyes for a second, and then as if something had changed and became apparent,
only to him, he turned around and placed a locking charm on the infirmary door.

A dark chuckle
left Snape�s derisive mouth as he saw Harry�s puzzled expression and he tutted
dangerously, �You lot really are too
naive for your own good.�

He slowly stepped
closer to Harry, his wand poised by his side, his face clouded by the darkness
that fell as one of the lights of the infirmary gave out
entirely.

�What are you
talking about?� demanded Harry irritably.

Snape�s face
twisted into a sadistic smirk. �What � I � want � is,� each word pronounced with
each step he took forward, his dark robes billowing after him, �to kill you of
course,� he announced as if it were obvious, raising his wand and closing in on
Harry, his greasy hair rustling alongside his
face.

�What?� Harry
hissed, nonplussed, looking into Snape�s eyes as they glittered with barely
restrained contempt.

�You saw me on
that tower Potter, I know you did. I read everything in that old fool�s mind
right before I killed him,� he jeered maliciously.

At the mention of
Dumbledore�s murder and that day on the tower Harry stiffened, a dark shadow
creeping over his features as he gazed at his former
professor.

�I didn�t think
Minerva would be so desperate to believe my sob story,� Snape mocked, a
malevolent glint caught in his eyes, �all it took to convince her was one single
tear.�

Harry looked at
him aghast and felt himself beginning to tremble all over as his already
incensed state boiled over like hot lava sliding down his veins at the
implications of Snape�s words.

�I suppose Albus
left her his belief in second chances along with the Headmistress position,�
Snape ridiculed crudely. �But really, how many chances am I going to be given?�
He shook his head in mock wonder.

Could he really
have�Snape had lied? Harry thought, stunned with rage.

No, that couldn�t
be true, Snape had saved him after all, his mind thought furiously.

Dazle had been
Snape�s house-elf.

Snape had said so
himself.

But what if that
was a lie as well?

The pendant�s
magic played up, and he could feel the tendrils of dark magic touch his mind
silkily, almost intimately. It was murmuring to him in a soft tempting whisper,
dancing around his thoughts in hypnotising
swirls.

Snape had lied to them, Harry�s brain
concluded abruptly. Of course he had. Snape was a Death Eater, and he hadn�t
changed at all. He was a murderer!

The Releaser
throbbed almost painfully against his chest as its magic swamped his mind, burning him where it touched his skin
with the scorching heat that was radiating ruthlessly from
it.

He is a filthy
little liar, his mind continued to screech heatedly. He just wants the pendant
all for himself; he wants to keep its magic all to himself!

Harry shook his
head firmly to clear off the daze that hugged his thoughts.

No, it couldn�t
be; it just didn�t add up or make sense�

He is a murderer. The voice spoke up in his head more persistent and defined
this time.

He has come to kill you and take the pendant away from
you.

He is a murderer!

Harry�s face had
lost all his colour and his shaking kept getting worse and worse, as the pendant
kept poisoning his mind slowly; the objects still whirling around the room
started to pick up pace and twisted around him and Snape in a flurry of magic.
The noise was deafening as the objects clattered against each other and the
generated wind howled between the walls of the Hospital Wing like an outraged
banshee.

�You�ll soon join
your filthy Mudblood mother and your father, that disgusting excuse for a
wizard, James Potter,� Snape spat, a livid sneer playing on his features, aiming
his wand directly at Harry�s heart.

�I�ve wanted to
kill you ever since I laid my eyes on you. You always had been the splitting
image of your father of course, in all his arrogance and recklessness. His habit
of discarding the rules as if they didn�t apply to him,� he snarled, his
yellowed teeth flashing ferociously in the dim light.

�I had to abandon
my persisting desire; I couldn�t very well murder you right under the nose of
Albus Dumbledore. But now that he�s not here to protect his precious little
hero, I�ll finally be able to do as I wish.�

He is a murderer, he is a killer, he is a Death Eater, he
is evil�kept being chanted
through his brain in an intoxicating hymn, and as the tendrils of magic curled
around him like a soft woolly blanket not filtering out cold but his every
rational thought, he found himself slowly
agreeing.

Snape had lied, he had killed Dumbledore because he wanted
to, he had come to kill him and now
Harry was going to die without any means to defend himself because he still
didn�t have his wand. He was sure he would not be able to control all the wild
magic that was consuming him if he tried.

Snape had lied to
them. Harry could not believe that they had believed him so easily. How dare
Snape come back to Hogwarts, the very place he had defiled and tainted for ever
with the murder of Dumbledore? How dare he come in here and lie to them!

He was sure that
Ron and Hermione would not look at him the way they had; eyes opened wide in
fright after he told them the truth about Snape! He was
sure.

His face
contorted and blackened with rage, his nostrils flared angrily, and his black
eyes swivelled with unrestrained animosity as he clenched his hands into fists.
He could feel his nails pushing painfully into the soft skin of his palms as he
looked into Snape�s dark eyes.

Harry couldn�t
think. He was unable to add up the simplest of facts or form a logical
conclusion. He was just so furious,
blinded by his outrage and rage; it was as if the whole world had been saturated
in a fog of sweltering red.

�And after I�ve
killed you, Potter,� Snape simpered nastily. �I will kill your annoying little
friends too. Goodbye,� he hissed, his wand still aimed at him.

Harry spread his
arms wide when he felt himself soaring just above the floor again and his magic shot him forward, he all but
flew at Snape in a fit of rage, arms stretched before him, his hands bent like
claws ready to slash at the mans hated face.

A flash of white
light speared from Snape�s wand and towards Harry, and seconds before Harry
reached him the non-verbal spell Snape had used
exploded.

Right in front of
Harry a large mirror had materialised, successfully blocking Snape from his
vision.

He stopped to a
stuttering halt, almost going right through the glass, as he was forced to take
in his reflection.

What he saw made
his heart stop beating in his chest for long seconds and he recoiled backwards
as if he had been slapped across the face brutishly with an iron fist.

In the mirror he
saw himself hovering slightly above the ground, towering tall and imposing. His
skin was a sickly pale hue that glowed with the silver-blue colour the pendant
always shone with now. His long black unruly locks floundered restlessly in
every direction as if hit with an overdose of electricity, and on his face that
was twisted in fury, its complexion totally unrecognisable, his lightning bold
scar flamed, emblazoned with a bloody crimson that overshadowed the fiercest
sun.

However the most
frightening of all his shocking features were his eyes.

They were soiled
with the colour of charcoal, swivelling and gleaming freakishly like big black
marbles; the white of his eyes a stark contrast against the black of his irises
and pupils. Under his lids there were dark shadows displayed, coiled like tiny
slithering snakes in a ring of deep grey, making his face look gaunt and haggard
as ever.

He looked at the
unfamiliar features in the mirror and blanched. That couldn�t be him could it?
The person reflected before him was glowing with an aura of the blackest and
most ancient of magics, almost inhuman.

Snape�s voice
boomed from behind the mirror, �See what you are becoming, Potter? Do you want to be what you see? A creature of
darkness, unable to think your own thoughts, controlled like a puppet on a
string!�

No, this couldn�t be true, his mind told him. Snape has tampered with that mirror, that�s
not me!

He drifted closer
to the glass, and saw his reflection become bigger, then laid his right hand on
the cool glass, and watched as his reflection did the
same.

�Are you still
angry with your friends for being afraid of you when you look like this?� Snape
demanded.

The words
penetrated through the screen of magic that shielded him and they stung and
shattered something inside of him.

His friends had
seen him, like this? The thought
alone made him feel nauseous, and he had to frantically restrain himself to
avoid emptying his still unfilled stomach of the bile that burned his insides.

The mirror wasn�t
lying to him, it couldn�t be. Snape wasn�t lying to him, how could he when the
evidence in front of him was so clear? How could he blame his friends for being
afraid of him when in fact he frightening himself?

His rage left him
swiftly and frighteningly like a sudden winter blizzard being swallowed by a
great and commanding force, in its stead an enormous tangle of anxiety seemed to
have tied itself as rope around his stomach, and he felt
cold.

Snape continued
relentlessly, �The longer you wear that poisonous thing, the more you will
change.�

Harry looked at
his reflection and lowered his gaze to the pendant that was still resting on his
chest. It gave of a light so bright that the glow cut right through the dimness
of the infirmary and made his eyes water
painfully.

�See what it has
done to you within a week! You need to take it
off!�

But you don�t want to feel the pain
Harry�

You don�t want to feel the misery and hurt, that�s why you
need me Harry� the pendant
lisped tenderly at him.

Harry stretched
out his lips until they were as white as chalk, looked at his reflection and
grimaced even more deeply as if that were possible.

He didn�t want to
be controlled by his emotions, that was true.

He needed this.

He needed to feel
the hollow emptiness that had him floating on a current of complete numbness
ever since he had roared his emotions away.

He hadn�t wanted
to take his friends to search for the Horcruxes anyway, and that meant that they
wouldn�t have to be afraid of him, because he wouldn�t be near
them.

It would be
better for everyone if he just kept the Releaser for a while longer, even if he
did look like death warmed up. He wouldn�t endanger his friends this way, and he
would be able to hunt down the Horcruxes without any emotional
restrains.

�I�I can�t take
it off, I just can�t�� Harry whispered, his hands still clenched in fists, but
now they were trembling, though not in anger but disconcertion.

�It is lying to
you Potter,� Snape shouted. �What do you think the next step will be? After
you�ve lost your ability to feel so thoroughly and your appearance has changed
even more drastically? And I can assure you, that they will continue to alter!� he continued
angrily, clearly frustrated and annoyed.

�Think
Potter!�

�I don�t know,�
breathed Harry, his heart was pounding in his chest like a hammer beating away
viciously, �but it doesn�t matter, all that matters right now is the destruction
of the Horcruxes,� he said more to convince himself than
Snape.

�No!� Snape
barked furiously as he stepped out from behind the cover of the large mirror.
His eyes were blazing and his stance was strong and menacing, Harry could
clearly see the powerful wizard that was standing before him, demanding him to
see reason by sheer will alone.

�What will happen
is that you won�t have a mind left of your own! The pendant is designed to make
the bearer do evil�evil, do you
understand the definition of evil or have you not listened to anything I�ve said
Potter?� Snape demanded heatedly.

�So what!� Harry
countered. �It�s not like I would ever hurt anyone,� he concluded weakly,
doubting his own words as soon as they had left the comfort of his inner
thoughts. He did not know why this was affecting him as it was, had the pendant
lost some of its power already because of his
hesitation?

Snape�s eyes
glittered in a sinister way, and he sneered at Harry�s uncertainty.

�That is exactly what you will do, you foolish
boy. You have been releasing powerful dark magic all day. You�ve nearly destroyed the whole
Hospital Wing, and could have seriously injured one of your friends with one of
your more fierce emissions of magic. Just look around you, that�s the reason why they are
frightened of you!�

The infirmary was
unrecognisably ruined. Windows had cracked, pillars were dented, bed frames were
utterly broken and thrown around like mere rag dolls, all kinds of medical
equipment littered the floor, pillows and mattresses were lying torn like
plucked chickens and broken shards of potion bottles were strewn, glittering and
covering what seemed to be the entire floor.

Harry just gaped
at the destroyed Hospital Wing in shock, he started to shiver all over and he
felt something creeping on his skin, but didn�t know what it was.

He had done this?
How�he hadn�t even realised!

When Snape next
spoke, his voice was calm and commanding, his words cut right through the
stubborn but weakening hold of the pendant.

�Maybe you will
inadvertently hurt an innocent
bystander at first, and maybe you will convince yourself that it was just an
accident, only one little accident. But what will you tell yourself when the
pendant has blackened your heart to a crisp and you find yourself not caring at
all whether you hurt someone or not? Will you tell yourself it is all for the
cause, that there was no other way? That the end justifies the means, and that
some people just get caught in the crossfire, when you could have prevented
their death?�

�No�no I
wouldn�t, I�d�never,� Harry stammered feebly, he stumbled backwards not wanting
to look at his damnable reflection any longer and almost fell over an astray
bedpan.

Snape advanced on
him unrelenting.

�You wouldn�t
would you?� he mocked mirthlessly, �No of course not, you�re the hero of the
Wizarding world, the Boy Who Lived, you�d never let yourself be tempted by
darkness, how foolish of me to even consider.� He feigned
regret.

Harry looked at
Snape and was eerily reminded of the conversation he had with Malfoy at
Spinner�s End, when Malfoy had sneered at him just as Snape had done just now,
and had told him how he knew Harry had tried to use the Cruciatus on Bellatrix
Lestrange.

Snape�s eyes
glittered maliciously and he chuckled darkly, �Yes I know about that as well,
and may I remind you that was you, attempting dark magic without the pendant.�

Harry flinched,
eyes wide in alarm as he took another involuntary step backwards. Snape, had
snatched his thoughts right from his mind, had read his deliberations written in
the deep creases of his ashen eyes. Occlumency.

Snape�s voice
turned to steel and his glimmering eyes hardened visibly. �And if I were you I
definitely would not forget last year, when you nearly murdered Mr. Malfoy with one of my inventions,� he spat. �You may not
have known what the spell was for, as you claim, but that doesn�t take away the
fact that you had been successful in
casting it in the first place! That should tell you more then enough about
yourself, �hero of the Wizarding world� indeed,� Snape snorted contemptuously.

Snape wasn�t
lying. Harry had been tempted by
darkness; right after Sirius had been ripped from his life so suddenly and
brutally. He would have killed Bellatrix Lestrange right then and there if he
had possessed the power to do so, and would have left her body to rot for all to
see in the atrium of the Ministry.

But his slate
remained clean, he hadn�t killed, and Malfoy hadn�t died that day in Myrtle�s
bathroom.

�You could you
know, you certainly look the part,� Snape started, again calm and composed,
his face blank as a white linen
sheet, his voice indifferent, �become like him, heartless and numb to all but hate,
slowly beginning to feel exhilarated by the devastations and ruins all around
you, glorifying in one, and one state of mind only; revenge.�

Oh how gratifying it would be! Whispered the pendant at him lovingly, stroking his mind
softly as if it were its familiar.

No! Harry thought
desperately.

What had it been
that Voldemort had said to him?

That he had
remarkably good features, a talent for dark magic. Voldemort�s
features.

Great features worthy of Salazar himself! I can see it too
it lies dormant within you, talents that should not be wasted! The
releaser lisped intensely, excitedly.

No�he wouldn�t
ever�

Let me help you Harry, with me guiding you
and showing you the way to absolute power you will be great. No one would be
able to stop us�no one!

Harry�s body
started to shudder more violently, as if he were standing in the centre of an
earthquake. The creeping on his skin that he�d felt earlier became more
pronounced and covered his arms with goosebumps, as his hackles rose. He knew
exactly what it was now.

Dread.

Dread for the
truth that Snape was speaking. Dread for what the pendant, he, just minutes ago
had firmly believed, was telling him now.

Dread�for the
pendant which had become his solace, his friend.

His only
hope.

His drawn face
lost even more of its colour, which made him appear almost as translucent as one
of the Hogwarts ghosts, and the pendant that hung from his neck started to lose
its flaring silver-blue light.

�Everything else
would be insignificant,� continued Snape insistently as he noticed the change in
the pendant.

Snape looked him
right in the eye unwavering, and Harry had to remind himself to breathe when the
ex-Potions Master�s gaze not only seemed to penetrate his thoughts but his very
soul.

�Revenge. Revenge
for your parents, revenge for Sirius, and revenge for everyone you lost at the
hands of him and his followers,�
interjected Snape fiercely in between Harry�s thoughts, �And if you succeed in
destroying him, what will you do with your hate? What will you do with all the
pent up emotions? Would you become the next Dark Lord to arise from the ashes of
the one you burned down?�

You could become the next Dark Lord; I would make you do so
many magnificent things! The
Releaser practically preened, not yet noticing that that was the wrong thing to
say.

You�re wrong, it isn�t true�I would never! Harry screeched back at it wildly, his mind
nearly exploding from all the conflicting thoughts that wildly coursed through
it.

�Or would you
join his ranks?� Snape pressed on heatedly, his voice resonating through the
ruins of the Hospital Wing loudly.

No, he would
never become like Voldemort! Harry wouldn�t allow it. He would never be like the
man that had killed his parents and had brought so much desolation to so many
that had not deserved what had been done to
them.

�The pendant,
would only aid and feed the darkness that already resides within you, it would
add to it and make sure it would consume you ever faster, you must take it
off!�

Snape really
wasn�t lying, and Harry could now see that he hadn�t lied to him or the others
either but only pretended that he had
to some how make Harry see.

And Harry saw
now, he saw it so clearly.

Convulsions shook
Harry�s lithe frame even more deeply, and he could feel the tendrils around his
mind hissing and shrieking in pain as if they were being sated in the hot boiled
oil of his revulsion and denouncement. He could feel them melting and weeping
within him like infants, begging him to reconsider. Telling him that he would be
nothing without it, that he�d be weak and worthless, a hopeless sack of brimming
emotions.

Snape was still
talking, but Harry couldn�t hear him anymore. All that he heard and saw was
himself and the pendant as he stared back into the mirror. A scorching disgust
and loathing awakened upon what he saw, and the still insistent wailing of the
pendant made his teeth gnash like chalk on a
chalkboard.

It was all so
clear to him now; this thing wasn�t his hope at all.

It was his
condemnation.

He saw his hand
in the reflection of the mirror twist upwards, as it moved towards the Releaser.
The chain felt cold and as weighty as lead in his open palm. There was almost no
light shining off it now.

The pendant
wasn�t begging him anymore, it knew it had lost, instead it was furious and
Harry could once again feel the heavy dark and poisonous magic humming and
drumming, pounding his very foundation relentlessly as it had done when Dazle
had hung it around his neck and it had first touched his bare skin. He felt
nauseous and dazed, but most of all repulsed.

He lifted the
chain, and for one frightened moment, as he went to lift it over his head
completely he feared that it wouldn�t come off and that he had to bear the
Releaser until his dying day and until far beyond in the afterlife. But it did
go over his head, and soon it was lying in his hand.

He turned to look
at it once more in a moment of weakness, with a sense of loss and regret when it
struck out one last time with a desperate force and taint of blackness that
seemed to sear Harry�s skin to ash through where the Releaser still touched him
and connected with him, obliterating his bones to dust.

Agony as he had
never felt before rushed through him, it weakened his legs to quivering sticks
and he fell to his knees his head tilted up skywards as a last torrent of black
magic ripped through him mercilessly, back arching and mouth opened wide as a
scream that could have wakened the dead was pulled out of
it.

Harry tried to
let go of the pendant, but it wouldn�t budge as he turned his hand upside down.
It stuck to the palm of his hand as if burned into his flesh. Blood was pounding
in his ears, and he could feel all the rage and darkness of the Releaser grind
into him as if marking him, marking every inch and cell of his body.

He didn�t
understand.

He had done what
Snape told him to do; he had taken the pendant off.

What was
happening?

His eyes searched
wildly and found Snape staring at him in horror, his face paler then normal and
Harry was sure he definitely saw
concern flicker across the man�s face this time.

Harry gazed back
at him in panic, tears of pain blurring his vision, while the pendant still
pumped that torrent of vileness through his
body.

It could only
have been seconds since he had pulled the treacherous thing over his head but it
felt like hours. No; days.

Snape�s voice
charged through his stupor of pain and with a lightning fast �Accio!� that not
only seemed to tear the pendant away from him but his whole arm as well, the
Releaser finally left his skin.

Harry sagged to
the floor completely, relief drowning out everything else. Every sense, feeling
or clear thought he could muster seemed to be a far away thing that wasn�t
important until confronted with directly.

Snape had already
tucked the chain away safely in his black billowing robes and was striding
toward him. He was beside him so quickly, dragging Harry up painfully by his
shoulders peering into his face with intent eyes that seemed to burn, that Harry
could have sworn he had Apparated if he hadn�t been lectured countless of times
by Hermione about the impossibility of Apparating in Hogwarts or its
grounds.

Snape�s big
callused hands came up to feel his cheeks, next his forehead then back to his
chin, tilting his face this way and that, scrutinizing him with a wave of
emotions Harry never had thought existed in the man, he could now definitely
identify concern among those emotions.

Harry frowned at
him trying to push away, but Snape�s grip was like steel and after a few futile
attempts to get some distance between them, he figured his legs probably
wouldn�t be able to support him in his current state anyway, and gave up,
instead, contented himself with glaring at the man.

To his
surprise Snape�s dark eyes widened fractionally, and he felt the man stiffen as
his hand drew back from Harry�s face as if burned, his mouth pressing into a
thin horizontal line.

Harry frowned
again, but this time in confusion.

He had glared at
the Potions Master countless of times before, it was practically his set
expression for looking at Snape, but never had his glares have any visible
effects on the man and he hadn�t expected it to have now. He had just glared out
of habit.

�What?� Harry
grated without thought, still consumed by his relief. He was breathing heavily,
and he noticed that he was actually
the one that was leaning on Snape
now. His legs felt as if they had competed in a marathon and wanted to fall out
underneath him like dominoes. His entire body felt exhausted and bruised all
over, muscles burning and aching with the slightest
motions.

Snape narrowed
his eyes, brought both of his hands back up to the sides of Harry�s face,
definitely more hesitant this time Harry noted, and resumed peering into his
face as if trying to read something far away, while sneering at him.

Well, Snape tried to sneer at him anyway; it
actually looked more like a half-grimace half-sneer, which Harry decided after a
few seconds of contemplation, was decidedly
worse.

�What?� Harry demanded again, but he
might as well have been talking to a stone for all the answers he got. His eyes
flashed in annoyance and he sighed loudly and immediately wished he hadn�t as
the considerable up and down wards motion of his chest felt as if a cleaver was
hacking his ribs into pieces of firewood.

After that,
breathing felt like swallowing large strips of barbwire every time he inhaled,
and purging even larger pieces of barbwire back up whenever he exhaled, so he
focussed on not breathing at all which consequently led to not talking either.

He gripped his
arms around his burning chest and gritted his teeth, suppressing the low painful
moan that threatened to escape with difficulty, and went back to glaring.

This time glaring
did nothing except for bringing a faint expression of wry amusement on Snape�s
face, as he kept on examining Harry closely, which made Harry�s eyes bulge
outward in incredulity.

Well maybe the
eye bulging had also something to do with the fact that his last supply of fresh
air had been a good twenty-five seconds ago, he thought grimly.

By the expression
on Snape�s face the bastard knew exactly what was bothering him and was
deliberately not answering his questions to see if Harry was foolish enough to
keep demanding explanations, and continue not to
breathe.

Snape flashed his
teeth menacingly, and half-sneered half-grimaced for all he was worth, staring
into Harry�s eyes still with more then a hint of dark amusement, taunting him to
ask his question again, taunting him to
breathe.

Harry set his jaw
stubbornly, straightened himself in Snape�s grasp stiffly albeit slowly, wincing
a little, and just gazed back at the man with one insolent eyebrow raised.

Still not
breathing.

Snape�s grimace
seemed to have filtered itself out of the sneer entirely as he realised Harry
wasn�t planning on talking or
breathing for that matter, leaving behind one of his more disdainful expressions
to darken his face back to its original colour. Which was still awfully pale,
mind you, but at least this was something Harry could deal with, it was familiar
seeing Snape look at him this way, and when he tried, he could almost ignore the
fact that Snape�s sneer didn�t reach his eyes. Eyes that still seemed to flicker
across Harry�s face with worry.

Dark spots
started to float before his vision and he could practically feel his face fading
away from a deep angry red to a sickly blue hue with each passing second, but he
refused to give the man any satisfaction.

And that�that man was still just looking at him with those slightly
troubled eyes that made Harry want to scream and tear his hair out. Instead of
answering Snape was shaking his head in open disgust, rolling his eyes to the
heavens as if asking a higher power for patience. The Potions Master let out a
long suffering sigh, and then turned his eyes back to Harry�s face to give him
an equally long level look.

And then his face
changed.

The first thing
Harry noticed was that Snape�s eyes seemed to get bigger. To be completely
honest he actually thought Snape must have gotten something in his eyes because
they started to twitch alarmingly causing the lines near the edges to become
more pronounced, Harry wasn�t really sure.

Then the ends of
his lips started the battle of turning upwards, and Harry could see the muscles
in his face clearly struggling against the upwards motion as if in conflict with
itself. And then his mouth started to stretch out, and his gaunt cheeks jutted
upwards, his lips parted and a sliver of yellow teeth became visible all the
while his eyes were still twitching frantically, and they actually seemed to shine with effort.

Maybe Snape was
getting ill, he thought hopefully.
He certainly didn�t look very comfortable with his face straining like
that.

It would serve
him right, thought Harry viciously.

�Are you quite
finished? No?� Snape spoke calmly. �Well then, I�ll just stand here while you
suffocate yourself to death and make all
of or lives easier,� he continued pleasantly.

And with a
dawning horror that almost seemed to stop his heart beating in his chest Harry
realised what it was Snape was doing.

He was
smiling.

He was actually
smiling!

At
Harry.

It was so
disconcerting that before Harry could stop himself he had flinched back, eyes
opened wide in shock as his brows climbed up to hide behind a raven lock of hair
that flittered across his forehead. He was so stunned that he froze completely;
his head that was already lacking sufficient oxygen seemed to be determined in
wanting to roll off his torso.

It wasn�t a
friendly smile at all Harry admitted, and he didn�t think Snape meant it to be
anywhere near friendly.

He just stared at
the man as if Snape had gone insane, mouth opening and closing feverishly, Harry
felt himself shake, especially his head.

He felt
light-headed, his vision blurring abruptly; which was kind of a relief because
he didn�t want to look at that�that �smile� any longer, and he was swaying
like straw in the wind, desperate and helpless to nature. He didn�t seem to be
able to think at all no matter how hard he tried, it was as if his brain had
shut down on him and someone had closed thick blinds all around him so that he
found himself in a fast nearing darkness.

A hand descended
upon his cheek with excruciating speed that made his skin flare and his neck to
snap back in surprise. He yelped loudly clutching his cheek, which caused a
flood of air to rush into his empty lungs, and he wheezed dangerously as he
realised he had actually forgotten he
wasn�t breathing and had just kept on not breathing when Snape had stunned him
with that hideous smile of his.

�I always knew
you weren�t the brightest bulb in the box, but even I wouldn�t have thought you would be
dim-witted enough to actually forget
to breathe!� Snape simpered.

It took a moment
for Harry to get his bearings and when he did he growled dangerously at the man.
Snape had hit him! How dare he? He
didn�t care how often Snape had saved his life; he had probably saved his life
just now again, he reflected sourly.

But that still
gave him no right to hit him like that! He could have found a different way to
remind him how to�to breathe.

He flushed
like a flame as soon as that embarrassing thought had slithered out of his
contemplations.

Only an idiot forgets how to breathe, he thought savagely.

He opened his
stubborn mouth to say something scathing anyway and to demand an apology, after
all Snape was not his teacher anymore; Harry was no longer afraid to stand up
against him scared of retributions, but before he could utter a single word
Snape cut him off.

�I don�t have
time for your foolish pride boy,� he snapped, �tell me, what do you feel?�

�I feel fine,� he
snapped back immediately, without sparing so much as a second of thought for the
answer. He flushed an even deeper embarrassing red, until he figured his face
must have resembled a bonfire instead of a single flame. Why did this man always
know how to infuriate him so?

He stiffened his
back, on the point of telling the Potions Master that he wouldn�t stand for it,
that he wouldn�t be bullied by him any longer. But as he met Snape�s commanding
stare with an opposing stare of his own, something in those smouldering eyes
stopped him short.

The worry,
which he had detected before but had ignored, were so prominent in that gaze
that it curdled his tongue as effectively as if a knife had cut it off. It all
dawned on him again like a shower of ice water; the Portotalus, the pendant and
its lies and Snape taking the pendant away from him in that moment of agony when
it refused to come off his skin.

He realised that
he had been acting every bit the fool Snape was making him out to be.

In that torrent
of relief he had felt after the wretched thing left his palm, he had banished
everything from his immediate thoughts to just be relieved that the poisonous
touch of dark magic had stopped thundering through him like a black monstrous
creature. His heart had stopped clutching in torment, and he had let himself
fall to the floor as his limbs gave way.

After that his
mind had been too confounded to realise what he was doing or saying, he had been
an idiot to let himself wander so far.

Snape tightened
his hold on Harry�s shoulders, unaware of his nails that were digging in Harry�s
flesh painfully. He leaned in even closer, his eyes like burning black torches
that could melt metal.

�Don�t you lie to
me,� he hissed. �What do you feel?
Tell me. Now,� demanded
Snape.

What did he
feel?

Harry guessed he
still felt relieved.

He also felt a
bit bruised and his muscles ached as if he had had a very intense match of
Quidditch that lasted all day.

Tired.

He did feel
tired.

And his lungs
still felt as if they had been on fire, and that fire had only recently burned
itself out.

Other then that,
he also felt a bit annoyed with himself but most of all with Snape, but he
didn�t consider that anything new or out of the
ordinary.

�I�don�t know,�
he replied hesitantly.

�What do you mean
you don�t know,� exploded Snape clearly on the edge of his patience, not that
Harry suspected he actually had much to begin with. Eyes wide and commanding,
Snape started shaking Harry with his hands that still held a painful grip on
him, as if he could rattle the answer out of Harry�s brain if he only used
enough force.

�Think!� Snape bit out
harshly.

Harry gritted his
teeth in frustration and tried to struggle against the mans hold. �I don�t know!
I don�t know!� he shouted angrily, �I don�t know how I feel; I don�t know what I feel. I don�t feel anything.

�Nothing!�

�I feel nothing alright!� his voice echoed
deafeningly through the ruined Hospital Wing.

He was breathing
heavily and scowling furiously and then he realised what it was he had just
shouted and gasped. It was the odd detachment that disconnected him from
everything that he identified with crystal clarity now. That floating screen of
stoicism that he could feel had created a barrier around his basic emotions so
that he could still recognise them and know what they meant, but he thought he
no longer would be able to actually touch or feel most of
them.

Snape�s face
looked stricken, at least Harry thought it had a second ago, before he blinked
and glowered back into an eerily blank and composed face, which made him
second-guess himself and conclude he must have imagined it.

Snape�s arms
dropped from his shoulders and to Harry�s surprise he could stand unsupported,
although still wavering slightly.

�Nothing?�
restated Snape softly, impassively. His eyes dull and his face smoothed out
carefully into an expressionless mask.

Harry nodded
slowly, rubbing one of his sore shoulders, his face darkening and shooting a
heated look at the man in front of him. He had known he could still feel anger.

�Are you quite
certain?� Snape asked, his voice almost a whisper now, ignoring the murderous
look on Harry�s face.

�Yes,� Harry bit
out sourly, looking at Snape curiously.

The silence that
fell was as loud as a thunderclap.

They just stood there for a few minutes,
looking at each other standing in the midst of broken shards and littered
objects, overturned beds and smashed medical equipment. Harry was still trying
to set Snape�s face on fire with his glower, and Snape was still looking at
Harry blankly as if he were trying to look at the cracked wall behind him by
looking through
Harry.

Abruptly Snape�s
gaze seemed to focus, and his dark eyes looked at Harry with the deep intensity
his stare always carried. He stood rigid, back stiff and head high, his
expression of nothing transforming back into his famous scornful sneer as if it
never had left his face. And when he next spoke, he seemed to be back to his
resentful self again.

�Well, it could
have been worse,� he sneered at Harry sardonically, eyes flashing dangerously,
�the backlash of the pendant could as well have fried your brain to a crisp like
it has done to most bearers, as I originally thought it had. Not that that would have been a discernible
difference in your case, of course,� he mocked
maliciously.

Harry clenched
his fists in irritation, and crushed his lips together determinedly until there
seemed to be no blood circulating through them
anymore.

�What must now be
done, and done immediately will be beginning to determine how severe the damage
is.�

Harry nodded
again, this time grudgingly.

He could see
sense in what Snape said.

He was certain
that he wasn�t insane, but he wasn�t so sure in how far that pendant had hurt
him physically. If he was going to hunt for the Horcruxes soon; he needed to be
fit and he realised that he also didn�t really mind not being able to feel the
pain and grief that was shielded behind that thick solid wall of stoicism. He
could feel it there, he was aware of the fact that it was there and he was glad that he didn�t
have to deal with those emotions presently. He didn�t really understand
completely, he knew he felt certain things, like anger for example, but at times
he didn�t feel anything at all.

�I�m afraid
you�re going to need your wand for that,�

�My wand? Well, I
don�t have it. McGonagall probably has it for safe keeping, it isn�t
here.�

Snape sneered at
him again. �You believe McGonagall has your wand?� he deadpanned, one perfect
shaped eyebrow raised mockingly.

�Well, yes,� he
answered, frowning, �she would-� have
kept it safe for me. That�s what he had planned on saying before he had cut
himself off as a disturbing memory played out before his eyes.

Him on his knees, searching wildly for a way
to defend himself. Turning around. His own wand, being pointed at him by a
steady pale arm, and a sneering grey-eyed
gaze.

�Malfoy,� he
deduced wearily, he sighed and ran a hand through his unmanageable black hair in
resignation.

Malfoy had been
the last person to have his wand, he
thought glumly.

Malfoy who was
dead.

Snape flashed his
teeth and peered down his long hooked-nose at Harry as if looking at a very
determined insect that had avoided being crushed too many times. His black
greasy hair was framing his thin sour looking face like a curtain of
slime.

�Indeed�
Malfoy.�

�But Malfoy is
dead,� Harry replied flatly.

Snape�s
condescending scowl was so cold, that it would not have been far fetched to
believe it could freeze Harry�s insides to ice, and harvest icicles to hang from
his nose.

Without another
word he turned on his heel, his robes flying angrily with the abrupt movement,
and strode resolutely towards the large, dented doors of the infirmary, which
remarkably were still closed and locked.

Before Snape had
reached the way out, he lifted his wand and the double-doors rocketed open,
smashing roughly against the walls that loomed on either side. The sound of his
boots; crunching broken items underneath his soles sharply trailed after him, as
he soon vanished through the doors and down the hall, leaving Harry to stare
after him with a confused frown on his face.

Did Snape blame Malfoy�s death on
him?

He probably did, Harry thought, letting out a long suffering
sigh.

Snape had always
been successful in finding ways to make everything Harry�s fault. But this time
Harry could not exactly blame him.

Snape had clearly
done everything in his power to ensure Malfoy�s safety. He even claimed
Dumbledore had asked him to save Malfoy, which Harry did not doubt.

After all, he
still recalled clearly how Dumbledore had offered Malfoy protection; for him and
his family that day on the tower.

After all he had been the one to ruin all Snape�s
precautions by destroying the shield that had been cast over Spinner�s End,
number thirty-one, and storming in like a rabid dog to only let himself get
caught and marched off to the Death-Eaters like a pup to the dog pound.

He assumed Snape
had been one of the few people in Hogwarts to actually like Malfoy besides the
other Slytherins. Well, he wasn�t exactly sure in how far Snape�s emotions could actually like or be fond of
someone, true. But he was certain that Snape had cared for Draco
Malfoy.

Well, Harry
refused to allege that he would miss Malfoy even if he was partly to blame. He had not
liked Malfoy, not one bit. And he considered it safe to say that the feeling had
been mutual. It would only be pretentious to act as if he did or had for that
matter, now.

He started
forward in a trot to catch up with Snape, as he noted that his ex-professor had
just reached the end of the corridor and vanished around the corner in a swirl
of robes.

Harry had only
taken two steps before his face contorted in pain and he hissed audibly when he
felt sharp pieces of glass and stone dig into his bare feet piercingly and made
him halt in an abrupt stop.

He was still
wearing his pyjamas, which also meant that he wasn�t wearing any
shoes.

He searched
around for a clear path across the room but was gloomily disappointed when all
he found was a fractured floor, littered with what seemed to be an endless sea
of brilliant chunks of glass and pottery; broken bottles, potion vials, cups and
mugs, several fragile medical apparatuses and appliances that had been
shattered. Pots of variable sizes all in shards, crunched vases and bowls,
smashed plates and basins and what seemed like every single thing that could have been
classified as frail had fallen to pieces, blanketing the entire Hospital
Wing.

He grimaced and
feverishly wished he had slippers on, but standing here all day wishing for
slippers would not make them appear, and it would not get Harry out of the
Hospital Wing.

He gritted his
teeth and clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists and started for the doors
again that still stood wide open, this time more slowly and careful of where he
placed his feet. Tiptoeing and manoeuvring his way across, cringing each time a
particularly thorny shard seared through the thin layer of skin underneath his
feet, he finally managed to reach the doors out of the
infirmary.

As he finally
stepped over the threshold and through the doorway into the corridor, he lifted
his feet up one at a time and picked out several persistent glass splinters that
had attached themselves like glue to the bottom of his feet.

The cuts were
numerous but shallow, and did not hurt exactly; just a sort of unpleasant
stinging that was rather irritating. There was also some blood, but not so much
that it could be a bother to him; he just ignored it while at the same time
nurturing a malicious thought that Filch would hopefully be the one to be
saddled with the mundane task of cleaning his blood from the stone tiles all
over the castle.

And the best
part; without being able to get Harry into trouble for it.

He contemplated
walking crisscross through every existing corridor in Hogwarts, before he
realised that would be very impractical, not to mention take him days to
accomplish.

He stood up
stiffly and peered into the hallway. He had not expected Snape to wait for him
while he was busy cutting his own feet to shreds trying to cross the infirmary,
so Harry wasn�t surprised when he learnt that his assumption had been a correct
one.

The passageway
was eerily clear of life. The stone walls seemed almost bleak and hollow as if
they knew something was missing, as if they could feel the absence of Albus
Dumbledore.

Muttering to
himself, Harry broke into a run that was far from painless. Even though his
muscles had been allowed some time to warm and gather a shred of strength, he
still felt decidedly faint and weariness seemed to loom over him like a giant
waiting to pounce and crush him.

He hobbled
awkwardly through the empty corridor wincing with every step, staggered around
the corner where Snape had disappeared from sight and
stopped.

It had taken
Harry at least ten minutes to leave the Hospital Wing and remove the glass from
his heels.

Which meant Snape
could be anywhere by now.

He looked around
in frustration as if to find some clue written in the air of which way to go to
uncover the hated man�s location when a thought occurred to him.

The Great
Hall.

There were people
in the Great Hall.

Harry was sure
Madam Pomfrey had mentioned something about people being there at one point. At
least it was better than roaming through the entire castle until he stumbled
upon a form of life by chance or managed to bleed to death from the tiny little
cuts that marred his feet.

He nodded to
himself and made up his mind as he continued his wobbly stride along the
corridor, down a flight of marble stairs, into the vast Entrance Hall which he
crossed swiftly, and to the massive wooden double doors of Great Hall that stood
wide open.

What he saw still
managed to surprise him despite the fact that he had known to some extent that
Hogwarts had some early residents.

People were
occupying the vast chamber, seemingly enjoying a spot of lunch underneath a
ceiling of bright blue sky that reflected the weather outside, where the sun
undoubtedly shone brilliantly. Every table appeared to be partially in use by
small clusters of wizards and witches here and there, chattering amicably to one
another while eating chicken and ham sandwiches, rolls, sausages and toast
washed down by mugs of tea, or pumpkin juice-filled
goblets.

What really made
him stare as if his eyes were about to pop out and fall to the floor was the
fact that there weren�t merely students but entire families. He recognised several
of the DA members surrounded by parents, sisters and brothers, and some other
students he knew by face but never in truth had spoken to.

He saw Luna
dressed in a lime-green ruffled dress with earrings that looked to be made of
seashells sitting with what Harry thought must be her father; a grizzled short
fellow with hair that exploded around his face like a hedgehog, wearing
thick-glassed, oval-shaped goggles on his bold nose and a bright yellow robe
that seemed to be far too wide, decorated with red embroidery of a creature
Harry had never seen before. A matching top hat was resting on the table next to
his plate.

The obvious
connection could not be missed by anyone short of blind.

They were sitting
next to Padma and Parvati Patil at the Ravenclaw table, who were crammed in
between their parents wearing identical sulky frowns.

Padma was idly
stirring her porridge with a spoon while Parvati appeared to be trying to kill
her toast with her knife by stabbing it relentlessly over and over again; both
were alternating between shooting dark glares at their father and mother, and
pouting in frustration as they were fastidiously
ignored.

Over at the
Hufflepuff table Zacharias Smith was talking soothingly to a slender
strawberry-blond woman in light blue robes who had an equally blond child in her
lap; a boy of about six years old playing with fried egg on his mother�s plate.
Her eyes were rimmed with red as if she had been crying recently, and Smith cast
his eyes about quickly, a faint rose colour painted his cheeks, seemingly
embarrassed.

At the end of
that table he observed Susan Bones, her hair sported into the long plait that
fanned down her back, amidst what Harry supposed were her mother and father and
what must be an older brother of about Bill�s
age.

A stab of guilt
made his stomach flutter accusingly as his eyes swept over the Gryffindor table
to a small assembly of red heads. A decidedly smaller gathering then it should
have been.

Ron was furiously
chomping down on a roll, oblivious to his surroundings, his arm already reaching
out for a chicken sandwich before he took the last bite out of his roll.

Hermione was
sitting close to his left, shaking her head in desolated disgust. Her lips
opening and closing fiercely, and although Harry could not hear the words she
uttered, he was certain she was berating Ron for his abysmal table manners,
while balancing a gigantic tome with yellowed pages, which were sometimes curled
at the ends, in her lap.

Ron, however,
gave no outward sign of hearing anything at
all.

Arthur Weasley
sat slumped on the bench opposite him, reading the Daily Prophet which cover
looked to consist of an enormous moving image of a house that was burning. Huge
flames lapped up the walls on the page, consuming the entire building, before
the whole construction crumpled down in a heap of dust and ash. The Dark Mark
appeared, slashing a vicious green overhead while the protruding serpent�s
tongue slithered across the paper.

Aghast, Harry
looked on as the whole thing started anew.

A large bandage
was rolled all around Arthur�s head, his robes were wrinkled and he had a slight
stubble covering his chin. He looked as if he had not slept in a week�s time,
which Harry admitted despondently, he probably hadn�t.

George was
sitting next to him, he was visibly a striking contrast to his father�s dejected
appearance. He was wearing one of those cheeky grins that said he knew something
you didn�t, and you would find out soon in a most unpleasant and inconvenient
fashion if he had any say in the matter, while whispering with Lee Jordan, heads
bowed low together.

Harry
narrowed his eyes and quickly scanned the room for Fred but was unable to spot
him, which made him decidedly uncomfortable.

He was as sure as
the sun would come up tomorrow and start a new day that this could only mean one
single thing: trouble.

Out of seemingly
no where an outbreak of black robes swooped down on him like a large bat from
the high ceiling, dragging him by the scruff of his neck, forward toward the
teachers table where Headmistress McGonagall sat, gazing levelly over the
unusual gathering.

By the silence
that fell over the room as he was huddled forward harshly, occasionally broken
by a gasp or a quick whispered word, no one had noticed him standing still in
the entrance before now.

�Look who it is,
the hero of the Wizarding world has finally decided to grace us with his
presence,� hissed Snape coldly, softly, �how very kind and most generous of you.�

By the sharp
nails that dug into Harry�s neck agonizingly he concluded Snape didn�t think it
very kind or generous at all.

Harry�s face
reddened to contend with a baboon�s backside as the muttered voices around him
started to pick up. He wrenched himself free out of Snape�s adamant hold
roughly, and rounded on Snape furiously.

�If you hadn�t stormed off,� Harry began
savagely, �just like a silly little twit in a tantrum and . . .� his voice
trailed off feebly as he stared into an unfamiliar face that was darkened in
blatant fury.

His eyes widened
comically and he gaped in shock at the strange man standing before
him.

A tall gangly
looking guy in black robes, with a long and narrow looking face that held eyes
of the coldest arctic blue imaginable, froze Harry on the
spot.

His mouth worked
soundlessly before he finally managed to croak, �I�I�m sorry..err Sir I-� he
swallowed hard and continued breathily, �I thought you� I mean, I thought you
were someone else, I apolo-�

He cut off again
as a very familiar and odious sneer bloomed on the man�s face.

�You what Potter? Could it really almost have
been an apology, however deplorably
insincere and unsatisfactory, you were about to utter?� said the man coolly,
eyes swivelling with unrestrained contempt, �Clearly, my ears are misleading me,
wouldn�t you say so Headmistress McGonagall?�

The stranger
turned his face toward McGonagall, and Harry realised that they had reached the
teachers table where the Headmistress sat stiff backed, pursing her lips in
annoyance, glaring at them forebodingly.

Harry�s face
flushed scarlet, more in anger than humiliation and continued to gawk at the man
for good measure. That was definitely
Snape�s voice! He would recognise that hateful speech anywhere. But how? He could practically
feel the light bulb flash on in his
scalp, shining brilliantly as he whispered under his breath, �Polyjuice�of
course.�

Snape could
hardly prance around as himself while the whole Wizarding Wold believed he had
murdered Albus Dumbledore. Well in their defence he had of course, but there were
extenuating circumstances that had to be taken into consideration, that they
simply did not know about, and would probably find hard to believe even if they were
told.

Admittedly, Harry
would not have believed it either, only a week ago. Not before his emotions
stopped controlling his every decision or thought, with not just a little help
from the Releaser. And now, its backlash upon removal had made sure his emotions
were still walled off securely even without the pendant.

Also, if Snape
still planned on masquerading as a Death Eater, part of Voldemort�s inner
circle, then getting exposed would be nothing other than fatal, more
importantly; completely useless to
the Order.

He sealed his
lips shut tightly when Polyjuiced-Snape�s head whipped back to him so fast that
Harry thought it might break off, his eyes spoke icy murder, and he growled at
him while still managing to whisper in a low vexed voice, �You keep that to
yourself, do you understand Potter,
if not, I�ll make sure you
understand. After I�m through with you I�ll make you wish
you-�

And at that exact
moment a loud boom resonated over the Slytherin table, successfully cutting off
Polyjuiced-Snape�s angry tirade and distracting everyone�s attentions off of
them.

Harry only now
noticed with astonishment, that the Slytherin table wasn�t empty like he had
assumed, there had been a small family sitting at the far end of the table
opposite Harry, consisting of two people.

Blaise Zabini sat
with his mother, scowling at everyone openly, his dark hand holding a quill that
was poised on a piece of parchment before him. His handsome face was obviously a
gift inherited from his mother, a dark woman with black shimmering hair that
fell to her waist, and startling eyes that peered around levelly in a blank
stare, her face as expressive as a wooden
fence.

A small whirlwind
of green smoke had accumulated itself abruptly right above the pair and drops
the colour of acid started to pour
down on their heads.

Trouble.

Blaise Zabini
shrieked in an unmanly way trying to save the letter he had been writing by
throwing himself on it, covering it with his robes. His mother had jumped up
with a squeal of outrage, and tried to step out underneath the cloud, but no
matter where she stood it followed her persistently like a magnet. Soon both of
them looked like two identical drenched cats, soaked from top to toe, puddles of
murky green forming around their shoes.

An uproarish
laughter exploded from the Gryffindor table where George and Lee Jordan were
clasping hands and slapping Fred on the back, who now, stood next to them,
giving a low bow and flourishing his right arm vigorously so that no one could
miss its gritty black colour and glimmering, marbled
texture.

Blaise seemed to
be trembling with rage, his letter, ink-stained and stuck to the front of his
robes as he straightened. He took one threatening step forward, his arm reaching
inside the folds of his robes, undoubtedly searching for his wand when his
mother, also quivering with fury, only a more silent and composed one, laid a
hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. He nodded stiffly,
and both strode briskly across the room and out of the Great Hall with admirable
dignity, that was only muted by the acid cloud that followed their departure
like a balloon on a string.

Harry just stood
in shock, and he wasn�t the only one. Snape stood stock still as if he had taken
root into the granite floor. Everyone, for that matter, sat petrified in their
seats like stone gargoyles, even Ron who sat with his mouth open as if he were
trying to catch flies, and Hermione who had a stern look of disapproval fixed on
her face.

Everyone but
Arthur Weasley, who looked like a man who had just lost a battle with his last feeble
grasp on patience, and detonated like a rocket racing to the
moon.

Arthur Weasley
advanced on his sons like a prowling tiger, his hands coming up as fast as
lightning to take an ear of each into his hands and tugged hard, nailing Lee
Jordan with his furious gaze for lack of a third hand, but as effectively, as
Lee who had tried to slink off unnoticeably, stopped in his
tracks.

�Seeing as you continue to act like little children!�
he bellowed, as red in the face as his hair, �I see no other way but to treat you like you lot actually
are!� he continued crossly. �I have
had enough, you will go and apologise. Now!�

He started off
for the doors, following the path of jade liquid that had washed away most of
Harry�s bloody footprints, and traced out of the room and across the Entrance
Hall, towing the twins after him with a twist of his hand that made them yelp
aloud. Lee Jordan following silently, feet dragging and his head bowed so low
that his dreadlocks, that now fell well over his shoulders, obscured his
face.

�But dad,�
interrupted George, sounding every bit the sulking child, no matter his
age.

�They are
Slytherins!� finished Fred hotly.

�Not every
Slytherin is evil, and not every non-Slytherin is good! Or have you forgotten a
certain rat? You are not the only ones that have lost their home,� Arthur
thundered, �open your eyes and look around you! Hogwarts is a place of safety
for anyone who needs it, do you hear me, anyone!�

Fred and George
appeared to be shaking in their boots, eyes round like saucers, staring at their
father wildly. Harry couldn�t blame them; he had never ever seen Mr. Weasley anywhere like this
ever before.

�You just wait
till your mother has awakened from her coma,� he threatened harshly, which
seemed to have been the correct way to stop the twin�s weakening protestations
entirely, and paled their now miserable faces until their freckles looked like
they had the measles, �and I tell her all about your pranks, she will set you straight. You
just wait!�

Arthur�s shouts
were soon nothing more than an angry muffled voice, as they disappeared from
sight, and at once the Great Hall exploded in a confusion of noise, some were
laughing and calling out with compliments to the three ex-Gryffindors, others
were shaking their heads and fists in
indignation.

McGonagall shot a
cold glare at the jeering people, who fell silent quickly, then levelled her
voice so that it carried over the vast room, and announced resignedly, �Lunch is
over, everyone please return to your appointed chambers and rooms. The Great
Hall will be closed to visitors from now until
dinner.�

Slowly the Great
Hall started to file out. People talked together quietly about what had just
happened and Harry heard words from; Harry Potter, Death Eaters spies, to tasteless pranks, and Gryffindors.

Only Hermione and
Ron remained staring at Harry nervously, after everyone else had left, but with
a look from McGonagall and a glare from the Polyjuiced Snape it was clear that
everyone also included them.

Harry shrugged at
them and tried to smile to let them know he was no longer angry with them, but
he figured it came out more like a grimace, when at the same time he had
remembered why he had been angry with
them to begin with.

Hermione shot him
one last worried look over her shoulder, and pushed Ron out of the doors ahead
of her.

Harry sighed and
turned to look at McGonagall, trying his best to ignore Snape and pretend he was
not there.

With a wave
of her wand, McGonagall send the doors of the Great Hall flying shut, and
studied both of them for a long second.

This also made
Harry pretend he was not standing
barefooted in his pyjamas, in the Great Hall being scrutinised by the
Headmistress.

�Are you certain
there is no other way?� she asked finally, her gaze resting on
Snape.

�I am certain,�
replied Polyjuiced-Snape stiffly.

She sniffed
loudly but nodded.

�Very well, I�ve
already prepared a Portkey.�

She exposed a
small porcelain figurine of a witch with a sleeping cat on her head, out of her
dark blue robes, and touched it lightly as if tickling the sleeping cat, then
handed it to Snape who accepted it readily.

�I will send word
as soon as I have returned.�

�See that you
do.�

Snape
nodded.

�Wait a minute,
where is he going,� demanded Harry, annoyed at being excluded from the
conversation.

�We are going to fetch your wand of
course,� answered Snape, leering at him
disdainfully.

Harry ignored
him.

�Headmistress
McGonagall,� Harry started, �my wand was taken from me by Draco Malfoy, who I
believe has been killed by his father,� he continued, ignoring Snape�s deep
throated growl, �he must have given it to Voldemort before he,� he cleared his
throat. �What I mean to say, is that I believe my wand is lost,� he finished
softly, his gaze dropped to stare at his
hands.

�You are correct,
Mr Potter,� McGonagall replied coolly, �and it�s currently still in his
possession.�

Harry frowned up
at her, not following.

�But
he�s-�

�He�s not dead!�
snapped Snape impatiently, a livid scowl on his
face.

Harry spun around
to face Snape, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be ignoring his
existence.

�How�� he
breathed faintly.

Snape opened is
mouth to unquestionably say something like, how Harry was too stupid to realise
that of course Malfoy wasn�t dead and
naturally Malfoy had been able to
rise from the dead, or some other rot. But before he could, McGonagall
forestalled him by whispering urgently that Snape was changing and should not
waste time.

It was true,
Snape�s hair that was now short and soft looked to be transforming rapidly into
long oily black strands. His nose started to grow longer, and his eyes went from
an icy blue-grey to a dark, smouldering black.

Snape stiffened
and looked around, his black eyes flickering across every crevice and space of
the Great Hall, before he reached out grabbed Harry�s arm roughly and pulled him
close, pressing the tiny statue into his hand so that they were both touching
it.

The world seemed
to lurch up side down, and Harry felt as if a massive hook behind his navel
wrenched him off the face of the earth when the Portkey activated, sending him
spiralling out to what looked to be nowhere.

McGonagall�s
piercing voice faltered after them, �See that you return,
Severus.�

-------------------------------
THE END!!!!!!!

no of course not..

Watch out for Chapter 6: New Old and Grim Place

hint hint hint... figure it out. :-P

Anyway,
If you would like to be updated when I update this story with a new chappy, leave your email in a review so I can add you to my email Comtacts list and I will alert you personally via email when I update.

Same goes for when you want to be removed from it ;)
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