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Author: negasong Story: Harry Potter and the Pawn of the Past Rating: Teens Status: WIP Reviews: 7 Words: 43,730
Severus Snape lay helplessly on the threadbare runner as Draco Malfoy relieved him of his wand. The full Body-Bind he had been placed in had made attempting conversation impossible. He reached out with his mind, attempting to connect with the boy, but Draco’s Occlumency shields were up, denying him contact. “He’s been practicing. His shields are almost flawless. There’s no way he could have blindsided me otherwise.” Draco pointed his wand at Snape, a look of deepest loathing etched in his features, his hand trembling with rage. Snape looked his attacker in the eyes, keeping his face unreadable. The boy muttered, “Mobilicorpus” and levitated Snape into a chair in the living room. A set of conjured ropes snaked around Snape’s body, binding him tightly to his seat. “I’m going to release you from the full Body-Bind. If you try to cry out or use any type of wandless magic, I will kill you. Have I made myself clear?” “I’m in a full Body-Bind, you simpleton. Why ask me questions I am physically unable to answer?” Snape could only look at his attacker and hope the boy could read his eyes. When he was released from the spell, he shifted in his seat in a futile attempt at comfort, his body still aching from the Cruciatus Curse. The shot in the ribs he had just received wasn’t helping either. “I’m not used to receiving visitors at this late hour. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Bad idea. The back of Draco’s hand connected with his face and his tongue was met with the salty tang of blood. He had to choose his words carefully. Draco, at least for the time being, held the Quaffle. With a wave of the boy’s wand, the blood had vanished. Finally, Malfoy spoke. “I want to know what you’re playing at.” “I’m not sure I’m following you, Draco.” “I want to know whose side you’re on. I’ve seen you. You’re keeping things from the Dark Lord. I’ve watched you lie to his face with him being none the wiser. Whose side are you on?” Snape studied the boy for a moment. The excruciating ordeal that Voldemort had put him through had changed him. A couple of weeks previously, the boy had not been able to muster the courage to kill Albus Dumbledore, despite the punishment he knew he would receive as a result. The look on Draco’s face now told Snape that the boy could kill him as easily as swatting a fly. Furthermore, he deduced, there was no way the boy was here questioning his loyalties on the Dark Lord’s orders. Voldemort had just forced the boy to kill his own mother. He was in the middle of a full-blown identity crisis and wanted answers for his own edification. Snape decided that the truth, or at least some of it, was the best road to take for the moment. “I am on my side, Draco. Would you expect anything less of a Slytherin? Do you know why all Slytherins have the potential to accomplish great things? Because we are the perfect balance between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Ravenclaws live a Hamlet-like existence of inaction while they analyze every last piece of minutia to death. Gryffindors, conversely, jump into the fray like Muggle swashbucklers, riding in on a silver steed to save the day, not bothering to think things through, arrogantly assuming that they could not possibly fail. You can see how well that worked out for people like Sirius Black and Potter’s father. We are Ravenclaws that take action; we are Gryffindors that think and plot. To achieve great things, Draco, you need to live up to your Slytherin heritage. You can start by acting like one.” Draco ignored the slight jab. “So your support of the Dark Lord is only for your own advantage, while my father, whose loyalty has never wavered, is rotting away in Azkaban?” Snape laughed out loud at this question, causing his sides to stitch up. “Goddamn Cruciatus!” He winced with discomfort as the boy looked at him in puzzlement. Whatever Draco had expected, it wasn’t laughter. “Do you think your father is any different than me, Draco?” “My father cares only for blood purity! He is fully committed to the Dark Lord’s cause! That’s why he – “ “Why he what, Draco? Why he slipped poor little Ginny Weasley Voldemort’s diary all those years ago? So that she would open the Chamber of Secrets and begin the great Mudblood purge of Hogwarts?” Draco stared at Snape, stunned. “So you know.” “Yes, Draco, I know. It is you who does not know. You have no idea how much you don’t know, which is unfortunate, seeing how your father’s actions may well end up killing you.” “What are you talking about?” Draco spat. “My father – ” “Your father deployed a weapon that Voldemort had entrusted to him for his own gain! Your father –!” Snape gritted his teeth and took a calming breath before he continued. “There is much that needs to be explained to you, Draco, but to do that I must start at the beginning.” Draco did not lower his wand, but made no attempt to interrupt. Snape forged on. “During the Dark Lord’s first reign, your father was initiated into the Death Eaters while he was still a student at Hogwarts. He was taken in by the Dark Lord’s views on wizarding purity. It was only later in life that he realized how much he had risked by openly supporting him: his wealth, his political connections, his family heirlooms, and the mansion in which you have grown up. In short, he realized that he had risked everything, and it was too late to back out. When the Dark Lord fell, none of us knew why or how. None of us was sure that he was even dead, and in fact, most of us thought him to be alive, but weakened to the point of meaninglessness. “Bartemius Crouch, assistant to Millicent Bagnold, Minister of Magic at the time, was rounding up the remaining Death Eaters. He was not, however, the cold, heartless beast many believed him to be. Yes, he sanctioned the use of Unforgivables by Aurors, and yes, he threw many Death Eaters to the dementors of Azkaban, but only the ones who refused to admit defeat. Crouch's goal was never to try to put every Death Eater in Azkaban; it was to ensure that the Dark Lord could never come back, for even Crouch wasn’t sure what had become of him. There was, after all, no body at the scene of the Potters’ deaths. “Some Death Eaters refused to repudiate the Dark Lord and were sent to Azkaban, others were killed by Aurors attempting to capture them. Others, like Karkaroff, cut a deal and named names. Unlike them, your father turned himself in and admitted to his crimes, claiming that he had been under the Imperius Curse. Crouch knew he was lying, of course, so did the Department of Magical Law Enforcement –” “But they couldn’t prove it,” Draco interrupted, “and Veritaserum is inadmissible, so they had to let him go.” “That is where you are wrong Draco. They didn’t have to do anything they didn’t want to do. Do you know how many people have been sent to Azkaban without even a trial? When the Chamber of Secrets was reopened, they sent that ridiculous half-wit, Hagrid, to Azkaban just so it looked like they were doing something, as if a half-giant could possibly be Slytherin’s heir. Much to my amusement, that arrogant idiot, Black, spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime he didn’t even commit. Do you think he was given a trial? Do you honestly believe the Ministry of Magic cares about due process?” “Then why was my father never imprisoned?” “Because he cut a deal, Draco. He cut a deal with Crouch personally. Crouch was aware of how much your father had to lose, but he was also aware that there was a very good chance that the Aurors would not be able to capture every single Death Eater that had been in the Dark Lord’s service. If even one of them evaded capture and sought the Dark Lord out of panic, or because they had nowhere else to turn... Crouch simply wasn’t willing to take that risk. “Your father held a tremendous amount of sway over many of the Dark Lord’s followers. Crouch used that and your father’s precarious position to his advantage. Lucius was to keep the Death Eaters under his control on a short leash, ensuring that none of them ever went to look for Voldemort. If any of them did, he was to report it to Crouch immediately. The Ministry in turn, promised to keep him, and the Death Eaters under his influence, out of Azkaban. The Ministry kept their word, and your father did as well. When Lucius got wind that your aunt and uncle were looking for the Longbottoms, trying to gain information on the Dark Lord’s whereabouts, he sold them out to Crouch.” Draco’s eyes widened as he sucked in a sharp breath. “He –” “Oh yes, Draco, your father is directly responsible for your aunt and two uncles being sent to Azkaban. I ask you again, would you expect anything less of a Slytherin? The Aurors captured them, but not before they had tortured Neville’s parents to the point of insanity. The official story sent out to the press was that your father and the Death Eaters under his control (like Crabbe and Goyle) had been under the Imperius Curse.” “But how did Crouch get away with that? Surely people within the Ministry must have suspected something.” “Of course they did, Draco. Let’s just say that your father’s vault at Gringotts is considerably emptier than it was before the Dark Lord’s defeat. If I may continue, everything worked out well for both sides until Madame Bagnold resigned. She was replaced by Cornelius Fudge. A man who, by all accounts, is of average intelligence, and has no decision-making ability to speak of.” “Why was he appointed then?” “Because Albus Dumbledore was still Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He didn’t want the job himself, but he needed to make sure he had someone who was indebted to him in the Minister’s office, someone who couldn’t make decisions on his own, someone who wouldn’t go to the toilet without consulting him first. Fudge would have never made it past giving out Apparition licenses if it weren’t for Dumbledore – Fudge owed Dumbledore, and Dumbledore owned Fudge.” Draco’s head was spinning. He hadn’t the faintest clue of the layers of corruption within the Ministry, and was even more shocked to find out to what depths Dumbledore was willing to sink to on the political battlefield. “Fudge, of course, knew nothing of the deal your father had made with Crouch, although Dumbledore may have suspected. Crouch, who had been quietly tucked away in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, didn’t have Fudge’s ear the way he had Bagnold’s. The long and short of it, Draco, is that your father was no longer protected. Once Dumbledore’s puppet was in office, it was very easy to get Amelia Bones to agree to let Arthur Weasley draft a Muggle Protection Act, and more importantly, to begin raiding wizard homes that were suspected to contain Dark artifacts. They didn’t raid your father’s mansion immediately, as he had too much political clout, but they did start raiding the homes of the former Death Eaters that your father had sworn to protect. Except without Crouch, he couldn’t protect them any more, and if he lost their support, his political and social advantages within wizarding society would have been utterly destroyed. He chose to strike back.” “I still don’t see what this has to do with the Chamber of Secrets.” “Consider for a moment what would have happened if Harry Potter had not interfered. Dumbledore would have been completely discredited and removed from Hogwarts. Fudge would have lost his patron and would have had nowhere to turn. Your father, at this point, would have assured Fudge that the right political wheels would be greased as long as he followed Lucius’ agenda. More importantly, the man who was truly a thorn in your father’s side, Arthur Weasley, would have been ruined once it became public knowledge that his daughter was the heir of Slytherin – the one who reopened the Chamber of Secrets in an attempt to purge Hogwarts of all Muggle-borns. So you see, Draco, your father certainly has his own agenda as much as I have mine. We are dedicated to the Dark Lord as long as it suits our purposes.” “So if Potter hadn’t interfered – ” “It makes no difference whether Potter interfered or not. Even if your father’s plan had gone off perfectly, the Dark Lord would still be out for your blood; your father’s plan was not his plan. Lucius made a very costly mistake when he decided to deploy that diary for his own ends. The Dark Lord is furious with him, Draco, and he plans to take that anger out on you. What he made you do to your mother was only the beginning. You had better realize right now that with your mother gone and your father in Azkaban, I am the only one looking out for you. I am the only chance you have at living through this.” Snape had taken the Quaffle back. “You wish to avenge your mother’s death, which was your original intention in coming here this evening. You assumed that I had known what the Dark Lord had in store for you, that I had willingly and knowingly led you into that nightmare. You came here to kill me once you had gotten any information from me on how the Dark Lord might be killed.” “Did you know what he had in store?” “Draco, I meant what I said when we had that conference in that Muggle warehouse. You are the closest thing I have to a nephew. Had I known what he was going to do, I would have hidden you away safely. I may yet still do that. You are in very grave danger, Draco; we all are.” Draco lowered his wand and was silent for a moment as he digested everything he had just heard. With a sudden movement, Draco’s wand was once again pointed at Snape. The potions master remained impassive, preparing himself for what would either be freedom or death, and an instant later, the ropes that were binding him had vanished, and Draco had returned his wand. “What do I do now?” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper. “Now? Now you study, Draco. Now you work. Your Occlumency shields are strong enough to block out most, but not all, invaders. The only reason you were able to surprise me this evening is that I am still suffering the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Once I have given you some extra tutelage, however, even the Dark Lord will not be able to see within you.” “What if I refuse to join you? What if I return to the Dark Lord’s side?” “Only someone who is severely mentally imbalanced would return to the Dark Lord after what he forced you to do. I do not believe you have inherited that trait from your aunt. However, just to be sure, you will allow me into your mind before I leave you here. If you refuse, you will remember nothing we have spoken about tonight.” “Leave me here?” “Yes, Draco, you will be staying here for the time being. Your Occlumency shields must be flawless before the Dark Lord summons you again. I, however, must leave for a short period so that I may tend to your aunt’s wounds.” Draco let his Occlumency shields drop. After several minutes of picking through the boy’s mind with a fine toothed comb, he removed himself from Draco’s consciousness, satisfied with what he had seen. “You will see in time, Draco, that you have made the right choice.” Snape went silent and looked into Draco’s eyes. The young boy nodded slowly. They raised their wands in concert as they turned to face the bookcase set into the wall. Snape silently flicked his wand a millisecond later; Draco did the same as he pronounced, “Stupefy.” The bookcase flew open in just enough time to allow Draco’s Stunner to hit Wormtail between the eyes. Snape glided over to the watery-eyed man lying on the ground, allowing himself a small grin. “You didn’t honestly think I would let you leave here with that information, did you, Wormtail?” The next word out of Severus Snape’s mouth was, “Obliviate.” OOOOOOOOOOO Hermione Granger couldn’t believe her eyes as the wrapping paper fell away to reveal Dumbledore’s Pensieve. The book on Occlumency she had been flipping through now lay by her side on Ron’s bed, all but forgotten. She and Ron were silently watching Harry, who was absorbed in a note that had come along with the heavy stone basin. When Harry finished reading it, he began to cry. What could Dumbledore have written that would cause Harry to break down like this? Hermione and Ron moved from Ron’s bed to sit on either side of their best friend. “What is it Harry? What does it say?” Harry didn’t answer and merely handed the note to her. Ron shifted so that he could read over her shoulder. As she read the short missive, her heart began to constrict. Professor Dumbledore had died because of his unyielding trust in Severus Snape. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Harry was feeling. She and Ron had loved and admired the headmaster, but Harry had been close to Dumbledore in a way that they never had. Ron’s face began to redden as he finished the letter. “Don’t worry, mate, we’ll find that greasy git, and when we do...” “We’ll kill him,” Harry finished. Hermione felt quite differently about the matter than Harry and Ron. Not that she didn’t hate Snape for his duplicity, for murdering someone dear to her, but in her mind, anything not concerned with hunting the Horcruxes was a distraction they couldn’t afford. If they came upon Snape in their travels, then so be it. Harry and Ron, however, wanted to hunt the man down, making it their first priority, and that, she felt, was a waste of time. She knew better than to speak her mind at the moment and quickly changed the topic. “So, Harry, what was the letter you sent me all about? It obviously had nothing to do with History of Magic.” The look on her friend’s face had told her that he had completely forgotten about it. He had been too busy tearing Ron and her new ones for leaving him out of the loop again. Harry had been furious with them, and had said some awful, hateful things in anger. The fact that Ginny had decided to have an extended sleepover at Luna’s house the minute she found out that Harry was coming to the Burrow had not helped his mood. He and Ron had been very close to coming to blows when Fred and George had Apparated into the bedroom and restrained them, Extendable Ears still hanging from their heads. Had the twins not been eavesdropping, she was sure that he and Ron would have gotten into a full-blown fistfight. Even then, it was not until Fred and George had explained that Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been essentially under house arrest, and couldn’t have even gotten close to an owl, that Harry finally calmed down. She had spent the two remaining days as a buffer between the boys. Ron was not as quick to forgive Harry for his angry words, and it wasn’t until Harry had gone into a coma that he had let the incident drop. “When you were still at Privet Drive, Harry, you sent me a letter asking about a History of Magic assignment. Remember? “My god, I’d completely forgotten.” Harry rummaged through his trunk for a moment and resurfaced with a shoebox. “There are a few things I want to show you guys. Dumbledore gave these things to my aunt the day that Voldemort murdered my parents.” It worried her that he could talk about his parents’ murder as if he were discussing the weather. Had he come to terms with it, or had he been put through so much pain in the last three years that he was shutting himself off to his emotions? She made a mental note to keep a close eye on him and to have a chat with Ginny as soon as possible. Ginny had told her what she had done right before Harry came out of the coma. She had let herself be incredibly vulnerable with him and Harry hadn’t remembered any of it. He had broken her heart all over again. She understood that Ginny was deeply hurt, but it wasn’t Harry’s fault. Her avoidance of Harry was only making things worse. He showed them the diary first. They tried every spell they could think of to open it without causing it damage. The diary however, remained resolutely locked. Harry was convinced (although he couldn’t explain to them why) that the key to the diary was at Godric’s Hollow. He then told them about McGonagall’s last words earlier in the evening, and the three of them decided it would be best to visit Hogwarts and Harry’s birthplace in one go. The snag in the plan was that Harry couldn’t legally Apparate. He was old enough, but he couldn’t just waltz into the Ministry of Magic to take his test when everyone thought he was dead. He would have to Side-Along. It was the best they could do at the moment. He brought out the letters next. She studied them intently with Ron looking over her shoulder. “Old man...” she said aloud, “Dumbledore?” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “That was my guess, but I’m not sure. What about the rest of it?” Hermione pored over the letters again, but drew a complete blank. “I don’t know Harry, the wording is awfully obtuse. I’m going to have to think on this for a while. Do you mind if I keep them in my room for a bit?” Harry agreed as she gently slid the letters back into their respective envelopes. Harry went back to the shoebox that was now balanced on the rim of the Pensieve. “Look at this.” He delicately took a photograph out of the shoebox and handed it to Ron. It was a picture of baby Harry and his parents when he was but two weeks old. “It’s a picture of you and your parents,” Ron stated bluntly. The implied “so what?” did not need to be spoken. She loved him, but Merlin he could be so thick at times. “Ronald! This is the only picture Harry has ever seen of him with his parents! It’s beautiful, Harry; I’m glad it was saved for you.” Harry went to his trunk again and pulled out the Omnioculars he had purchased at the Quidditch World Cup and thrust them towards Ron. “Look at it through these.” Ron put the Omnioculars to his eyes as she held the picture steady. “What am I supposed to be seeing Harry? I don’t... bloody hell!” Ron looked up at Harry as if to say, “Please tell me I didn’t see what I just saw.” Harry merely nodded grimly. She took the Omnioculars from Ron and put them up to her eyes as Ron said, “The book on the coffee table.” The boys took it to mean that Snape had been there that night. While Voldemort was murdering James and Lily Potter, Severus Snape was downstairs retrieving his old Potions book. Hermione wasn’t so sure about that. The boys could be right, but the book could have got back to Hogwarts in a number of ways. For the time being, however, Hermione knew better than to posit that particular theory. Harry was watching her intently as she studied the photograph. “Notice anything else?” She scanned the picture inch by inch, looking for anything else that might seem telling. A full minute passed before it hit her. “Harry! Your eyes! They’re jet black!” She looked up at him completely baffled. How was that possible? “You look just like James, except for your eyes – you have your mother’s eyes. How many times had people said that to him? Yet in this picture he very clearly had his father’s eyes. What the hell had happened that night?” Ron looked confused. “What are you two on about?” She handed the Omnioculars back to him. “Look at it, Ronald; in this picture he has James’ eyes, they’re jet black.” Ron spent a few seconds alternating between looking at the picture, then back up at Harry. “Well, that can’t be.” “It can’t be, but it is,” Harry replied. “Something very bizarre happened the night Voldemort tried to kill you, Harry. The scar, the Parseltongue, your connection with Voldemort, your eyes... we have to find out what happened.” Ron looked dejected. “How do we even start to do that? Dumbledore and Sirius are gone. Who do we even ask?” Harry and Hermione spoke almost simultaneously. “The owner of that Potions book.” At that moment, two tiny pops augured the sudden appearance of Fred and George. “And what Potions book would that be?” the two asked in unison. Ron put the Omnioculars down as he gave the photo back to Harry. “You two, out of my room. Now.” “Not so fast little bro, unless, of course, you’d like us to inform Mum of your decision...” “Involving your education, or lack thereof...” “We might also be inclined to tell her about Potions books...” “And Harry’s eyes...” “And cryptic letters...” “And diaries that won’t open.” “You... you’ve been eavesdropping!” Ron blustered. Fred let a wide grin spread across his face as he looked sideways at his twin. “Our little brother has quite a command of the obvious.” Ron gave his brothers a look that even Kreacher would have envied. “What do you want from us?” “I’m glad you asked, little bro, in exchange for our silence...” “We want in.” Ron tried to bluff them, but his red ears gave him away. He was truly the worst liar Hermione had ever seen. At least she would know immediately if he ever cheated on her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Ah! But methinks you do, little bro, so, apparently, do your ears.” “So, you three can either let us in on the action...” Ron looked like he wanted to murder his brothers right there on the spot. She could tell that Harry’s mind was racing as he tried to come up with a believable lie. She looked between her friends and the twins, and then her eyes fell on Ron’s bed. “Okay, we’ll let you in on the action.” Harry and Ron looked at her as if she were insane. She picked up Harry’s copy of ‘A Practical Guide to the Ancient Arte of Occlumency’ and handed it to them. “There’s a condition, though. Before we can make you privy to any sensitive information, you must learn to close your minds completely. If what you know falls into the wrong hands, innocent people will die. Therefore, you must make yourself completely invulnerable to the effects of Legilimency. Harry refused to share anything with Ron and me until we had done the same. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” The twins grinned widely. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Granger...” “I think I speak for both my brother and I when I say that we have no choice...” “But to accept. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Fred and George both shook Hermione’s hand, making the pact official, and then vanished, eager to be alone with the book. “Well, that should keep them busy for a while. I told you that book would come in handy, Harry.” Harry and Ron stared at her for a second and then broke into peals of laughter. OOOOOOOOOOO Author’s Note: Thanks to my beta, Laurabeth, for her talent, keen eye, great disposition, and encouraging words. Also, I must give credit to Pharnabazus, whose ten-part essay, ‘Expecto Patronus: or How the Wizarding World Really Works’ was the inspiration for the conversation between Draco and Snape in this chapter. Most of the ideas are his/hers, and he/she deserves all of the credit for them. If you are interested in reading the essay, it can be found at http://community.livejournal.com/hp_essays/7250.html
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