Unforgivable Promises

Unforgivable Promises

Chapter 2

Despite Harry's misgivings, the Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape had gone surprisingly well. Focusing on theory instead of practice, Harry had been able to get answers to some questions that Snape had simply barked at during their previous sessions. Though he'd been unable to really try anything out, he thought he had a better grasp of what Snape had been showing him. Maybe if I could get him to talk about potions theory, I would do better in that class, too, Harry thought. Apparently, watching Snape demonstrate a technique flawlessly then getting yelled at as he fumbled through it was not how Harry learned best.

Nothing else about the evening had gone well, though. After four hours, a few of the Order members had returned briefly then run out again with nothing new to report. Once Snape had declared that Harry was too dense to absorb any more magical theory, Harry had moved to the kitchen where he disposed of Hagrid's attempt at dinner with a cleaning spell. Having nothing else to do, Harry kept some water going for tea and set the rest of Hagrid's sausage cooking with some potatoes. Eventually, someone would return with news, good or bad, and preparing for them kept Harry from worrying too much. Snape, on the other hand, had headed to his room as soon as the lessons were concluded.

As the night wore on, Harry found it harder to distract himself from his thoughts. The water for tea eventually boiled away, and the meager meal he'd prepared was resting comfortably in a bespelled warmer that would keep it fresh for several more hours. He'd tried tidying up but found that, since Kreacher's departure, the house had been laden with cleaning spells, so there was little need for a broom or dust-rag. With a final sigh of submission, Harry allowed his fears to surface.

With Sirius gone, Harry was again without family. Friends he had. He knew Ron and Hermione would stick with him through anything. They already had for that matter, and Harry made a mental note to do something to show his appreciation for that. They took their family for granted and likely didn't understand just what they meant to him. Harry didn't blame them for that. Not now, at least, though in moments of self-pity that Harry was not proud of, he had sent bitter words into the night about the injustice of losing Sirius when people like Ron were so surrounded by family they spent more time complaining about brothers and sisters, parents, aunts and uncles, cousins and distant relatives, than appreciating them.

As much as he enjoyed the Weasley family and their love and attention, they would always remain his friend's family. Harry loved and respected Dumbledore, but not the way he loved Sirius. Dumbledore was too distant to be thought of as family. Tonks and Moody were great in a pinch, but neither was the type of person you could spend hours talking to about the kinds of things he'd shared with Sirius. The only person in his life he thought he could look up to like that was Remus. And now he, too, may be lost.

Damn Voldemort! Harry cried silently. Damn him for taking everything from me. Damn him!

Harry's mind clouded with anger and hatred. Swept up into his righteous anger, Harry barely felt his scar burning until his vision darkened, and he found himself once again in the familiar and terrifying mind of his enemy.

The small circular room was dank and moldy, and no windows interrupted the stone surfaces surrounding him. Through the room's only door, a masked Death Eater approached hesitantly. Harry felt a haughty sneer curl his lips as he recognized the fear oozing through the robes and mask. He could smell it on the air, see it in the slight tremble of the robes. He waited for his servant to speak. Fear this strong meant his servant had failed at something and expected punishment. He knew he would be angry shortly, but for now, he enjoyed the rank odor of terror in the room.

"Forgive me, Master." The masked wizard tried to keep his voice steady. Voldemort fed on fear but grew annoyed when his followers indulged too much in the weakness. "Something went wrong with our plans tonight. The girl was stronger than we'd expected. Others from the Order arrived, and she escaped. We chased one of them into a cave, though. That cursed werewolf." The Death Eater's voice grew steadier. He had survived the news about their failed mission, no doubt he hoped that the following good news would allow him to escape punishment. A foolish hope. Voldemort never forgot to punish. "We have anti-Apparating charms on the cave. He cannot escape. I left two guards on the cave, and returned for reinforcements. We tried to go in after him ourselves, but the mouth is too narrow to evade his spells."

"Return, then." Voldemort's voice echoed painfully through Harry's mind. "Bring as many Death Eaters as you must, but bring him to me alive. But first, let me remind you of what waits if you fail me again tonight." Harry's wand--no, Voldemort's--flashed before him. "Crucio." The man before him crumpled to the floor in agony. Harry burned in pain with the Death Eater. Some small part of his mind thought back to his Occlumency lessons, and Harry finally shielded his mind. With the pain gone, Harry was able to pull himself from Voldemort's mind. Quietly, he hoped.

Harry needed all his strength to pull himself from the table in the kitchen. He needed to tell Snape what had happened. Weak legs carried him up the stairs to one of the spare rooms. "Professor Snape," Harry called hoarsely. He knew his voice hadn't penetrated the door, so he banged his fist on the solid wood panel. "Professor!" He tried again, though little of his strength had returned.

Finally, an annoyed Snape pulled open the door. "What is it, Potter? Another apology?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It's just that, I've had another vision. Voldemort. "And I know where Remus went. He's in a cave. The Death Eater said they'd chased him in there, so he can't be too far away from wherever Tonks was."

"What else did you hear?" Snape ignored Harry's fading pain and weakness.

"The cave's surrounded with anti-Apparating charms, so he can't escape." Harry suddenly remembered something else, "And the Weasleys were supposed to be searching around there! If the Death Eaters find them. . . They're going back with more wizards to capture Remus."

"Did you see the Death Eaters on their way there?"

"N-no, sir. Voldemort was. . . punishing. . . the one I saw first. There's still time! Someone has to go save Remus."

Snape gazed coldly at Harry and said, "Surely even a wit as dim as yours isn't fooled by this, Potter." Harry stared back in shock. "A friend is in trouble, and you're the only one around to save him. Sound familiar?"

Harry digested that for a moment. "No, sir. I mean, yes, sir, I see what you mean. But this time it was different. My other visions were always when Voldemort was feeling some strong emotion. Like when he was planning to kill someone. This time he was just sitting alone when the vision started. The Death Eater came in after I was watching. And once he cast Crucio, I pulled away. When I had the other visions, I could never get away when I wanted to."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he studied Harry. "What were you doing when the vision started?"

Harry blushed, not wanting to admit that he'd been wallowing, again, in self pity.

"Were you thinking of the Dark Lord?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded.

"And what emotions were you feeling?"

"I was angry, and sad. I was thinking about Remus, and what Voldemort might do to him."

"If that is indeed what you were feeling, then you are a fool, and this vision is another scheme of his. Care to give another answer, or shall I return to sleep?"

Damn him for making me say it, Harry thought. "I was thinking about me, sir, and what Voldemort had done to me and how much I hated him for it." Certainly someone as hateful as Snape couldn't blame Harry for his feelings.

Snape nodded. "Perhaps you initiated the connection, then. Dumbledore believes that love protected you from his curse when you were a baby. But that curse was cast in hate, and through hate you are bound to the Dark Lord. Hate is the emotion you both share." Snape took a moment to consider. "You were able to extricate yourself from his mind? How?"

Hopeful that the Potions Master believed him, Harry explained, "I shielded my mind, as you'd shown me, Professor. Once I wasn't feeling everything that Voldemort was, I realized I could pull myself out of his mind."

Snape raised an eyebrow and remarked, "There may be some hope for you left." The older wizard stepped into the hallway and, closing his door behind him, led Harry back to the first floor.

"Very well," Snape said. "It would seem that it falls to me to me." Harry nearly insisted that he go too, but he realized that the instructor was certainly going to be Apparating. He had no way to follow. "Stay hidden, no matter how much time passes. If I return and find you've so much as peeked through a window, you will not enjoy my reaction. I realize you have a habit of running into the arms of danger at times like these, Potter, but right now you are only a liability. Leaving this house will put you in danger there is no need to be in, and if I need to hear Dumbledore lecturing on how important you are, I will take it out on your hide. Are we clear?"

As much as he hated to stay behind, he knew Snape was right. "Yes, sir," Harry replied. And with a swirl of robes and the click of the front door closing, Harry was, once again, left alone.

-----

Harry woke to the sound of the door opening. His neck hurt and both arms were tingling from the odd position he'd fallen asleep in. Groggy, he raised his head and realized he'd nodded off at the kitchen table. As his thoughts cleared, he remembered his worry for Remus and Snape's hasty departure. He rushed to the door, both hopeful and terrified, and nearly collided with Tonks.

"Sorry, Harry." The young woman grimaced. "No luck so far. I couldn't find out anything." With a sigh, the young Auror shook out her green hair.

Still foggy from his interrupted nap, Harry had no idea how much time had already passed. Glancing at his watch, he realized that it had been less than twenty minutes since Snape had gone off to help Remus. Harry's story spilled forth as he explained everything to Tonks.

For her part, Tonks took the whole thing in stride. With only a few questions, she agreed that Snape had done the right thing in going out after Remus. "After all," Tonks said, "he knows more about Occlumency than I do. If he thinks it wasn't a trick of the Dark Lord's, it probably wasn't."

"But what if he's caught?" Harry was suddenly aware of the danger Snape was putting himself in by taking action. If Snape was identified, there would be no escape. "I should have gone with him."

"If there's only two of them there like you said, he'll be fine. He's got surprise on his side, not to mention, well, he's Professor Snape. He's meaner than any two Death Eater's combined." Tonk's attempt at levity was lost on Harry, who now found himself worrying about Remus and Snape.

"And if he's not fine," Tonks continued, "well, then Remus will be captured anyway, and Snape won't last long either way. Better to go fighting, right?"

Harry merely sighed.

"Listen, Harry, staying here was the right thing to do. Arthur and Molly were looking around there, and Severus may not like them, but he knows they can handle themselves when the hexes start to fly. But now I'm curious. What did he threaten you with to get you to stay here?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "Well, he did threaten me, but he didn't need to. He was right when he said I'd be a liability. And the last time I tried to help someone. . ." Harry trailed off as tears once again threatened and his throat constricted.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Harry. I know you keep hearing that, and I won't keep lecturing you on it. But when I became an Auror, the hardest thing for me to learn was my limits. I wanted to save everyone. I damn near got myself killed trying. A part of growing up is knowing when you can't help, even if it means leaving a loved one in the hands of someone else. You do what seems best at the time, and you hope it's the right choice. That's all anyone can do."

Another sigh.

"I know that, Tonks. It's just hard to get my head and my heart to agree."

Tonks gave Harry a warm hug. "No one said growing up was easy, Harry," she said. "That's why I, for one, have refused to do it." The joke earned a half-hearted smile from Harry. "Well, my head is telling me to stay with you. By now, those other Death Eaters will be there. And Remus and the rest have either escaped or it's too late for me to help." She made her way into the kitchen and began helping herself to the food Harry had prepared. "Time to wait and hope for the best."

They were not forced to wait too long. Minutes after Tonks had sat down, the front door swung wide once again, and four dark figures crowded into the hall. Harry reflected that most of his evening had been spent waiting in the kitchen and running into the hallway as he once again leapt from his chair.

"Everything's okay, Harry." Mrs. Weasley's voice greeted him. "Remus will be okay."

Harry hadn't realized how tense he was until he heard those words and his body finally relaxed. Remus was supporting his right arm with his left. The forearm hung oddly in his grip.

Remus explained, "Bone's gone. One of them got me just as we were Apparating. I dropped my wand and missed my chance to get away, so I took off into the woods. No worries, though. I'm sure Severus has an extra painful bone growing potion for me somewhere, eh?"

Harry nearly fell over with relief to hear Remus joking. The potion would be painful, though. Harry recalled his own experience with regrowing bones and shuddered.

"I will have to brew one. Perhaps with a little experimentation, I can enhance the somatic component. You may not enjoy the results, but I would." Harry wasn't entirely sure what Snape had meant by that, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with Remus being in pain and Snape liking the thought.

"Professor?" Harry interrupted. "What about the Death Eaters? Did they recognize you?"

His smirk made its customary appearance as Snape replied, "Dead men cannot see." Later, Harry would be surprised that the answer left him with little emotion. They may be his enemies, but when did he become so callous at the deaths of Voldemort's servants?

"Well," Mr. Weasley said. "Someone needs to tell Albus and Moody that everything's okay. I think I know where to find Moody. Molly, you should probably head to Hogwarts and see if Albus is still there."

Mrs. Weasley agreed, adding that if she did not return to the Burrow soon, Ron and Ginny would be running feral. Tonks helped Remus to his room and commented that she needed her own rest. Finally, Snape and Harry were the only two left awake in the house.

Though he knew he should be tired, Harry was wide awake. Now that Remus was back, he had something to focus his mind and energy on. "Will you be brewing the potion for Remus tonight, Professor?" Harry asked, and got a curt nod in response.

"May I help you, then?" The question surprised even Harry. The Occlumency lesson, though, certainly could have gone worse, and Harry was curious if that had merely been a fluke. Besides, now he might finally be able to do something to help Remus instead of just sitting around worrying.

Snape regarded Harry as a stranger might appraise a stray dog. "I find it hard to envision a scenario wherein you would be helpful brewing a potion. And I have had several years to do so." Harry blushed, but again did not rise to the offered bait.

"I just thought perhaps I could tend to the brazier, or lay out any ingredients for you, Professor." He'd put up with Snape's remarks if he got a chance to help Remus. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, and countless restless nights on Privet Drive had taught Harry just how long the night can be.

"Well, you do seem literate enough to read the labels on bottles if even you have a hard time stringing a full sentence together on your own. Very well." Relieved, Harry followed the Potions Master to his room, where he had a rudimentary potions lab set up.

The relief did not last long.

"Do those coals look bright orange to you, Potter?"

"Uh, no sir."

"Then color-blindness is not your excuse. Leave the brazier; I will handle it myself."

"Mr. Potter, did I ask you for lacewing flies?"

"Uh, no sir, that's the horned slugs you needed."

"I stand corrected about your literacy, then. Your reading skills not quite what I had hoped."

"You can't crush leeches with a knife, Mr. Potter."

"But I was slicing them, sir."

"The tubeworms, which you appear to have crushed, were to be chopped. The leeches that you are chopping need to be crushed."

The evening had not improved after that, and Harry finally left to his own room when Snape began speculating that Harry was working for Voldemort and his help with the potion was meant to torture Snape and kill Remus.

-----

The following morning, Harry awoke to a much busier house than he'd fallen asleep in. Heading out into the hall, Harry could hear muffled grunts of pain coming from Remus's room. He was caught unawares when Snape opened Remus's door. "Ah, Mr. Potter. Bad news, I'm afraid. The potion seems to be working properly despite your assistance last night."

"I am sorry about that, sir. I did try to help, but I guess I was more tired than I realized," Harry said.

"No doubt," Snape responded. "Saving the world must be exhausting."

Harry sighed silently as Snape brushed past him and down the stairs. Why do I bother? Snape is always going to hate me no matter what I do.

As he headed into the kitchen to see what, if anything, was to be had for breakfast, Harry was dismayed to see Snape already seated at the table. This was going to be a long summer, if both he and Snape were going to be locked up in the house together. Mrs. Weasley's appearance saved Harry from having to suffer the Potion Master's cold gaze for too long.

"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "I didn't expect you up this early, or I'd have spelled up some breakfast for you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied. "But I'm fine with the bread and butter I found. I'm not used to a big breakfast during the summer."

Harry immediately regretted reminding the overzealous witch about his living conditions with the Dursleys. Mrs. Weasley launched into a tirade about "those people" and insisted on preparing Harry what she called a "proper" breakfast. An hour later, Harry was sure he'd burst if he so much as looked at another piece of sausage. Thanking Mrs. Weasley yet again, Harry tried to escape to the second floor to check on Remus. He froze with his foot on the first step when Snape's chilly voice caught him.

"Finally finished, Mr. Potter? Then you can join me in the library. Best to get these lessons out of the way early before my mood turns foul." Harry bit his tongue and followed the instructor up to the third floor.

The library, Harry was surprised to discover, was far more cheery than the parlor below. Tall windows allowed ample light into the high-ceilinged chamber. Overstuffed chairs rested beside thick mahogany tables, and the entire room, books and all, was spotlessly clean. Most wizarding families of high standing had extensive magical libraries and archives, and the Black family had been no exception. So, when the Order of the Phoenix had moved in, the library had been one of the rooms first cleaned and restored to a livable state, as much time had been spent researching ways to combat the Dark Lord.

Harry found he was eager to being his Occlumency training. After yesterday's nearly-enjoyable session and even more after his successful exercising of control during last night's vision, Harry was finally willing to do whatever he needed in order to control the foul bond he shared with Voldemort. The Pensieve sitting beside one of the chairs made for an uneasy few moments for Harry before he decided to ignore its presence. As best he could, he suppressed the feelings of guilt and pity that rose in him at the magic device's sight. After all, Occlumency is little more than the focused control over emotions and memories, and if he couldn't quell his unease in this room, he'd never be able to defend himself against the Dark Lord's full attention.

The lessons began with Harry giving a more detailed accounting of what had happened the previous night. As Remus was safe on the second floor, there was no need to cover the details of what had been seen and heard. Instead, Snape questioned Harry on his emotional and mental state leading up to and during the time he spent in Voldemort's mind. As he had yesterday, Harry was able to ask questions of his instructor that earned useful, detailed answers. And though Harry suspected he was mistaken, he thought he saw a flash of approval when Harry described how he'd chosen not to break the link until Voldemort's thoughts and actions had turned to the Crucio curse.

"Should this happen again, you must determine if you are indeed in control, or if the Dark Lord is merely allowing you to feel that you have some power of these visions," Snape had said. "There are still too many unknowns. Did you create the link with your feelings of hatred, or did that simply give him a chance to exploit a weak moment? Can you only break contact if you opened the channel yourself, or can you shield yourself from his emotions even if the visions come upon you as they did last year?"

With those questions in mind, Snape informed Harry that it was time for some practical experience. As he moved the threads of memories with his wand into the nearby Pensieve, Snape was silent and Harry had no intentions of bringing up the last incident involving Snape's memories.

Harry had no time to prepare himself for the mental attack. One moment Snape's wand had been plucking thoughts from his head, the next Snape was forcing his mind into Harry's. Taken by surprise, Harry had little time to shield himself from the onslaught and the Potions Master quickly overcame Harry's defenses.

"You must always have you mind under your control, Potter. You know that," Snape lectured. Again, without warning, Snape launched another assault on Harry's mind. This time he took a different course of action, and rather than looking for stray thoughts, which Harry hand successfully cleared from his mind, the Professor began stirring up powerful emotions. Breathless, Harry was unable to defend himself as wave after wave of anger, happiness, hatred, embarrassment, loneliness and joy tumbled through him. One moment he was overcome with his hatred for Voldemort, the next he was reveling in his friendships with Ron and Hermione, annoyance at Dudley, grief for Sirius, pity for Snape. With the last, Harry's mind went blank and he could feel Snape's presence pull back so quickly from his mind that it left him off balance and slightly nauseated.

"We are done for today," Snape said, his voice sending a chill down Harry's spine. Harry was still confused and disoriented when the older wizard retrieved his memories and strode silently from the room.

Harry felt at a loss. Every hour seemed to leave Professor Snape hating him even more, and he'd only arrived at the Order's headquarters twelve hours ago. Knowing that anything he did to try to ease the tension between them would only anger Snape, Harry headed to check on Remus.

-----

Harry knocked on the werewolf's door softly and peeked his head inside at Remus's strained reply. "Hello, Harry," Remus said when the boy had entered the room. "I hear you're to thank for my timely rescue."

Harry responded with a weak smile and a shrug. "It wasn't exactly intended, but I supposed so. I still don't know exactly how I managed to open the link between us. Or even if I did. Professor Snape seems to think so, though, and I probably shouldn't argue with him right now."

"Trouble with Snivellus, eh Harry?" Remus asked with a chuckle that disappeared at Harry's pained expression. "What is it, Harry? If he's been making you miserable. . ."

Harry shook his head. Snape had been making him miserable, but that was nothing new. "No, it's not that. It's just the name you called him. Snivellus. I remember that from the memory I saw. Do you really have to call him that?"

Remus shrugged. "Oh, it's more of a joke between us now, Harry. I don't call him that much, but I think he knows I don't really mean it."

Harry wasn't so sure, and he said so to Remus.

"If it'll make you feel better, I won't call him that any more, okay?" Remus asked. Harry smiled at the recovering wizard.

"Remus? How are you so happy? When I had to take Skele-Gro, I was in so much pain!" Harry said.

"Severus is a Potions Master, after all, and he made the potion. His tend to be a bit better than the ones Madam Pomfrey buys to stock the infirmary with. Plus, I only had a missing arm, and it's nearly recovered. I've just a few fingers left, I think.

"Now, I'm sure you came to check up on me, but judging by the look on your face when you came in here, I think you had something else on your mind too. Want to talk?"

After Remus's casual use of Snape's hated nickname, Harry was not so sure about talking to him about his situation with the Professor.

"Come on, Harry. I have to lie here all day, talking to you about your problem will make the time go faster."

Harry eventually relented and explained the deteriorating situation with Snape, from the Occlumency lesson of the day before, to his help making the potion last night, and finally to the lessons earlier that day.

Remus took a few minutes to think about what Harry had told him. "Well, Harry, I think I can explain his reaction earlier today easily enough. If there's anything Severus hates, it's being pitied. You said yourself you felt that emotion during his attack on your mind. He must have felt it too."

"I didn't mean to feel that way!" Harry protested.

"I didn't say you had, lad. But anyone would feel uncomfortable knowing they're being pitied. Especially by someone who's supposed to be their inferior. I'm afraid I don't really know how to deal with that, though. Severus is a hard man to read, and I don't know anyone who's managed to get beneath that hateful facade he puts on for everyone.

"As for the lessons, I do think I know why Occlumency goes a lot easier with you two, aside from today's unfortunate mishap, then Potions class. To him, potion making is an art, not simply a skill to be mastered. It should be appreciated for it's subtle power and fickle rules."

"But, can't you say the same thing about Occlumency?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes, you can Harry, but it's not the same to Snape." Remus paused to collect his thoughts. "Think of it this way: You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts to a bunch of students, right?" Harry nodded. "Why did you teach it?"

"Well, because everyone was going to fail if I didn't. Hermione thought I was probably better at it than the other students, since I've had so much. . . practice. And Umbridge wasn't teaching it. Not really."

"And the students you were teaching, why were they learning it?"

"Well, Ron and Hermione believed Voldemort was back, so they knew they'd need to know how to defend themselves. I guess a few of the others might have thought the same way too. But most of them were just worried about their O.W.L.s. And at least one was there to pick up girls," Harry added with a chuckle.

Remus nodded as if expecting the answer. "Good. Now, let's say someone asked you to teach them how to play Quidditch. Would you teach them? Assuming you weren't locked up with a bunch of suicidal Aurors and ex-Death Eaters, that is."

"Yes, I probably would." Harry wasn't sure where this was going.

"What if they told you they wanted to learn how to play Quidditch to pick up girls. Or because they thought if they got good enough, they'd make lots of money?"

Harry replied quickly, "Then I probably wouldn't. If they wanted to learn for girls or money, I wouldn't want to waste my time. That's not why you play Quidditch. It's about the freedom of flying; the excitement of a close game; the way it feels when you spot the snitch and know the other team's seeker has no idea where it is."

Again, Remus nodded at Harry's answer. "Okay, now why are you learning Occlumency?"

Still confused at this odd line of questioning, Harry answered, "Because I have to learn it. If I don't, Voldemort will always have a way to control me."

"Of course you realize, Harry, that's why Severus is more skilled at Occlumency than any of the Aurors in the Order," Remus said. Harry had assumed as much. The Mark Snape bore bound him to the Dark Lord just as Harry's scar did, and every time Snape entered the Dark Lord's presence he was forced to hide a part of his mind from Voldemort without allowing Voldemort to sense the masquerade.

"I still don't see. . ." Harry began.

"One last question, then, Harry. Why are you learning Potions?"

Another easy one. "I have to. I want to be an Auror some day, and I'll need to know as much about potion making as I can if I'm going to be any good at it. It's required by the Ministry of Magic."

Remus smiled broadly. "Congratulations, Harry, you've just found your answer," he said.

Harry protested that he was still as confused about the Potions Master as before, but Remus assured Harry he'd sort it out in due time. Confused, Harry stepped into the hallway and was going to return to the library, hoping to find something interesting to read. As he passed Snape's bedroom, a noxious odor told Harry that the Professor was working in his miniature laboratory. No, Harry thought as Remus's words finally became clear, he's on his Quidditch pitch.