Unforgivable Promises

Unforgivable Promises

Chapter 12

-----

The night was spent, despite both Remus's admonition and Harry's wishes, debating the safety of what Harry had planned.

"There's nothing to worry about," Harry said. "I'll talk to Snape tomorrow about why I couldn't get out of Voldemort's mind. I'm sure he'll ask about it anyway. Plus, now we know how you guys can wake me up. We just need a bucket."

"I still don't like it, Harry," Hermione said. "What if Voldemort catches you? What if something goes wrong next time? The water worked this time, but that was probably only because you weren't in pain."

"I've gotten out when he was using Crucio before. Look, I'll talk to Snape tomorrow, like I said. I'll have a lesson before he goes to see Voldemort and Malfoy."

"Okay, Harry," Ron said, giving Hermione a look to keep her quiet. "If you're sure you know what you're doing, we'll do what we can. It's just. . ."

"We followed you past Fluffy, we followed you into the Chamber Secrets, and we followed you into the Department of Mysteries. We're not used to you going somewhere we can't follow." Hermione finished Ron's thought.

"You couldn't follow me all the way, though. Not to get the Stone, and not into the Basilisk's lair. And you couldn't follow me during the Tri-Wizard Tournament either."

"Right. And look what happened." Hermione turned pale at her own words before Harry could react. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like it sounded. It just seems like no matter how hard we try, we're never there when you really need us. You keep having to face Voldemort alone."

Harry nodded. "I know, Hermione. I know you didn't mean Cedric. And I know you guys want protect me. All of you." Harry looked around at his friends. "And I'll probably never be able to thank you for that. But. . ." Harry considered his words, then decided on the truth. "I don't think, when the time comes, that I'll have any choice but to be alone."

Harry told them what Dumbledore had explained in his office at the end of last term.

"So, I think that's why I keep ending up alone with Voldemort," Harry said. "Well, I wasn't alone after the Tournament, but maybe that's why I made it out alive. Maybe it just wasn't time."

"That's silly, Harry," Hermione said. "The prophecy doesn't say anything at all about you being alone. Besides, you're wrong."

"I've thought a lot about this, Hermione."

"Well, you're still wrong. You've never actually been alone with Voldemort. Your mother was there the first time." She began checking things off on her fingers. "Quirrell was there when you found the Stone. Ginny was there in the Chamber. And after the Tournament and in the Department of Mysteries, Voldemort had a bunch of Death Eaters."

"If anything," Ron said, "that prophecy means you need us even more. We've got to make sure the Death Eaters don't keep you from taking on You-Know-Who."

Harry grinned.

-----

"Morning, Potter," Professor Snape said as Harry settled into his chair sat back in his chair. "Tell me about last night."

"Well," Harry shifted uncomfortably. He still did not want to lie outright to Snape if he could help it. "It started like it did before. So I guess we can assume you were right about what's causing the visions."

"Of course I was right." Snape waved his hand, casually dismissing the idea that he could have been wrong. "You did not appear to be in pain. Were you?"

"No, I wasn't. I can't figure out what I did wrong. I got myself out of it that other time when Remus was in trouble."

"It is probably your overdeveloped sense of honor. A friend was in trouble, so you managed to extract yourself."

"Maybe," Harry said, not entirely convinced. "I was in pain that other time too, at first." He suddenly looked up. "Wait a minute, Professor. Occlumency isn't supposed to affect the bond I have with him, right? But I blocked the pain from his Crucio last month."

"I have been considering that myself. I am impressed you noticed that. My well-educated guess is that the pain you feel is leaking through the bond you share, but it is a side effect. It follows the path of your link, but does not travel upon it directly, if you will. That underscores the difference between your bond and mine. I cannot block out the pain."

Harry considered that for a moment. "Maybe that's why he feels his victim's pain. If he can project that through the bond, wouldn't it make Crucio twice as bad?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, who smiled at the impressed look in the Potions Master's gaze. "That is quite astute, Harry. And it may even be correct. A summer of wonders, no doubt." Harry chuckled. Snape's jabs seemed to have less sting lately. "The Dark Lord's curses are far more powerful than any other wizard's. Even more so for his Death Eaters, perhaps."

"So it's twice as bad when he Crucios you than when he did it to me?" Harry grew pale.

"If your deduction is correct, then yes. Though after a few moments under the curse, it ceases to matter."

"I suppose." Harry had a feeling he was right about Voldemort's use of the bond with his Death Eaters, and it served to make him despise the Dark Lord even more. He made his followers suffer even more than his enemies.

"Professor?" Harry steered the conversation back to his own agenda. "What do you think I can do to make sure I pull away from his mind if it happens again? I think I have the Occlumency down. But after that. . . Well, I thought I was doing the same thing last night that I did last month."

"There are some techniques common to many similar spells and rituals that may help. Astral projection is a fairly rare skill, even among wizards, but I have some familiarity with the theory if not the practice. You will learn them, and we shall see how useful they are. However, Harry, I must remind you how dangerous it is for you to be in the Dark Lord's mind at all. We do not know what kind of control he can exercise over the bond you share, nor what kind of harm he can cause you should he discover your presence."

Harry nodded in understanding, but Snape continued. "You cannot allow yourself to become so engrossed in your emotions. Perhaps if your friends knew your secret. If you cannot control your emotions on your own, talking to your friends may aid you."

Harry's stomach turned at the thought to telling his friends he was gay. He knew it was not entirely a logical reaction, but he still pushed the idea from his mind. Besides, he had been in control of his emotions this time, but he could not tell Snape that. "Well, yes, I would like to. But I don't think I'm ready yet. Anyway, I was just thinking too much last night. I'll be more careful about where I let my thoughts go in the future. I promise." And he would be careful, but not quite the way Snape would assume.

For his part, Snape simply nodded. "Very well. On to the lesson, then." Snape spent the next hour discussing theories on how Harry could find his way back to his own head.

Snape left right after the lesson, leaving Harry to find his way to the attic where Tonks and Mundungus waited for him and his friends. In the past week, several members of the Order had taken to assisting Snape with their training. Harry was not sure if that was merely a result of boredom or a desire to help, or if they knew the students would need the skills sometime soon. He was in no mood to ask.

"Let's see what Severus has been up to, shall we?" Mundungus said with a grin. He singled Harry out and immediately began an assault of curses and hexes. Harry, having learned always to be on guard in the attic, responded with a solid defense. Grazed with a few hexes, he let nothing serious through and decided to turn the tables on the short man with an assault of his own. After all, Snape had certainly never taught them to stand and bear the brunt of an attack. Soon, the two were in an out and out duel. Harry was suspicious.

Sure enough, the nagging in Harry's mind turned to warning as Mundungus reached into his coat pocket and threw something directly at Harry. Physical attacks were against dueling rules, but as Snape had taught them, Death Eaters did not care about that. Harry leaped out of the way as the rock sailed past him and bounced off the wall. Harry was in a bad position for a spell, his body twisted away from his opponent as he fell against one of the chests they had cleared from the center of the room. Letting his momentum carry him over it, Harry barely dodged the blasting curse that shredded the tapestry next to him. He landed face-down and knew he would have to expose himself to free his wand hand trapped beneath him. Instead, he grabbed a metal candelabra and hurled it, without looking, at Mundungus.

His aim must have been good, as he heard Mundungus's next spell get cut short. Finally, Harry was free to push himself up, just in time to see the short man rolling out of the way of the heavy metal ornament. His wide grin let Harry know the little thief was enjoying this. Harry took in his surroundings, just as Snape had taught him, and came up with a plan to end the match. Mundungus had thrown himself on top of an old rug, and Harry took advantage of it.

Harry had not even finished the levitation spell aimed at the far edge of the rug when Mundungus spun around to cancel Harry's attempt. With his back to him, Mundungus never saw Harry reach down and grab the rug's near edge in his hands. Pulling up, Harry sent the older man, and more importantly, his wand, sprawling across the floor.

"Accio wand!" Harry called out. Mundungus rolled over, gratifying Harry with a confused look. When he caught sight of Harry, he began laughing.

"Planned that all along, didn't you?" Mundungus asked.

Harry grinned. "Sure did. You knew I'd go for the rug as soon you landed on it, didn't you?"

"With the spell, yes. At least, I hoped you would. Would have been disappointed if you'd missed it. Didn't see that coming, though." He pointed to the rug, still in Harry's hand. "Good to see Severus is teaching you real fighting. Not that crap they teach in the dueling clubs."

Mundungus stood and retrieved his wand from Harry, who was panting from the exertion. Mundungus, though, looked as if the whole thing had been no less strenuous than a walk through a garden. His clothes were still a bit askew, but that was nothing unusual for him.

"Okay, then, who's next?"

-----

The following day presented a break in the students' schedule. Snape had not yet returned, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was waiting for the Potions Master to return as well, offered to show them some of the strength and stamina training that Aurors underwent. The elder wizard walked them through a series of exercises.

"The best spells in the world won't help you if you're too exhausted to cast," he said as the group jogged around the upper floors of the manor. Harry was grateful for the exercise, as he had spent most of the previous night worrying about Voldemort deciding to take a closer look into Snape's mind. As tired as Harry was from his night of fitful sleep, the distraction of physical exhaustion was welcome.

The activity was welcome for another reason, too, and after the group finished for the morning, as they all made their way to lunch, Harry trotted up beside the Auror. "Excuse me, sir?"

"What is it, Harry?" the man asked, resting his hand fondly on Harry's shoulder.

"Well, I wanted to thank you for taking the time today with us. And I was just wondering–and don't think we don't appreciate it–but why is everyone so willing to help us train? I know why Professor Snape's doing it. Or I know part of why. But I guess I'm kind of surprised that you Aurors are doing it too."

Shacklebolt frowned and indulged in a small sigh. "Please don't thank me, Harry. I would much rather be telling all of you to run off and play a game, or get a head start on next term. But we cannot afford that, I fear. The Dark Lord has had years to gather his followers and they have recruited new wizards to his side. We do not have the numbers we once did, and we cannot afford to turn away any allies."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"None of us are happy to see you or your friends involved in this. But we know better than to believe you will not fight simply because you are not prepared." Harry took exception to the man's choice of words, and opened his mouth to protest, but did not get a chance to. "That speaks highly of you, and your friends too, Harry. No one would blame you if you wanted to hide from all this, but here you are, ready to face what comes. We have not spoken about it, but I think several of us have decided that we will not allow you to face that unaided."

Harry was not sure how to respond to that. It was scary to consider the full weight of Shacklebolt's words, so he simply said, "Thank you."

Harry entered the kitchen behind his friends and found Snape helping himself to some tea.

"Professor!" The dark man simply raised an eyebrow at Harry, and even Ron looked confused at Harry's response. "I'm glad you're back. Did everything go okay?"

"Considering what I was there to discuss, Mr. Potter, I would say it did not go well at all."

Harry frowned. He had not spent much time thinking about what the meeting meant beyond the inherent danger to Snape.

"How many?"

"And what makes you think I would tell you that, Mr. Potter?"

"We're going to find out eventually, aren't we? Dumbledore isn't letting them in next term, right? So once we see who's missing from the Slytherin table next month, we'll know. You're just trying to look mysterious and brooding," Harry replied. Neville choked on his sandwich and Hermione looked scandalized.

Snape gazed cooly at Harry until the boy started to squirm in his seat. "Seven," he said finally. Harry exhaled a breath he had not realized he had been holding. "Though you will only suffer from the loss of four from my house."

"Three Ravenclaws?" Ron asked.

"Two, Weasley. You are all far too quick to judge others. Interesting that the only stereotype that ever seems to hold true is the Gryffindor tendency to stereotype the others. Hufflepuff will find itself missing one of its Seventh Years."

"No Gryffindors, though," Ron said, puffing out his chest. "Of course."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the red-head, and Harry spoke up before his friend dug himself into a hole. "Let it go, Ron. I'm just glad it was only seven. I expected more."

"As did I," Snape said. "And in truth, I know of others, Slytherin and not, who would take the Mark. Obviously, however, I kept my opinions to myself. Malfoy's arrogance is working for us. It was a mistake for the Dark Lord to take him alone. He has allowed the honor of being the first of his generation to be Marked to go to his head, and he finds fault with his fellow students he feels are beneath him. If there are Gryffindors who would join the Death Eaters, Malfoy would never allow himself to see that."

"Well, it doesn't matter, because none of them would," Ron said.

Snape laughed, a barking, caustic laugh filled with spite. "Mr. Weasley, you truly are a fool. A whispered truth has no power over shouted lies, is appears." With a disdainful shake of his head, Snape stood. "You have potions tutoring when you are finished with lunch, Potter. Do not dawdle, please."

When Snape left, Ron snorted and stuck his tongue out at the doorway the professor had exited through. "Everyone knows that no Gryffindor would take the Dark Mark."

Ginny leaned past Neville and smacked the side of her brother's head. "Honestly, Ron, you really are thick. Forgotten about Wormtail, have you?"

Ron's eyes grew wide. "Well, he was. . ." He frowned. "I guess he's right. But I hate to think that someone from our own house would go dark. It's just easier to imagine some dirty Slytherin doing it."

Hermione spoke up. "He's right, you know. We can't assume anyone's loyalty based on their house. Come next term, we need to be careful. Really careful."

"The other day, Remus said that we five reminded him of the Marauders. Then he got really quiet. I guess he was remembering what happened to them," Nevill said.

"I'm not going to start worrying about that," Harry said firmly. "Hermione's right. We need to be careful around others. But I'm not going to start doubting you guys. Maybe my father said the same thing once, but I couldn't keep doing this if I didn't know I could count on all of you. Snape may think it's foolish, but I don't."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around Harry and squeezed him tight. "What a sweet thing to say. But it doesn't matter, because it's not a mistake. We'll always be here for you."

Harry returned the hug awkwardly and pulled away. "Well, I meant it," he said with a shy smile. "Anyway, I have to go before Snape transfigures a cockroach into Filch so he can give me detention for being late."

-----

Upstairs, Harry let himself into Snape's room with a gentle knock. He headed over to his table and stopped when he caught sight of his professor glaring at him. "What exactly was that about in the kitchen, Potter?" Snape asked crossing his arms.

"Sir?"

"I will not tolerate you showing off for your friends, Harry. When we are alone, I allow you a certain amount of latitude. And I too, am more casual when we are practicing Occlumency or potions. But I am still you professor, and just as importantly, I am theirs, too. If you cannot handle a more relaxed relationship with me in private then I will not permit one. You will not undermine my authority with the others. If they see you behaving that way with me, they will do so as well. Then they will resent you for getting away with it when they cannot."

"I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were, Harry. You were playing a game of 'look what I can do.' And what is more, you know you pushed too far. You are mature enough to see that."

Harry chose not to answer, and Snape did not push him for a reply, instead giving him a final piercing look before putting him to work. As this was a potion Harry had never managed to brew successfully, the Potions Master stood beside him, explaining the workings of each ingredient as it was added. Finally, when the concoction was simmering, Harry had a chance to change the topic.

"Are you going to tell us who's going to be Marked?"

"Is that really necessary? As you said earlier, you will learn soon enough. And it is quite possible that some will refuse. I do not know that I wish to prejudice you against your fellow students should I and Malfoy be mistaken about their loyalties."

Harry had no reply to that. He did not feel the accusation was entirely fair but knew his past actions were less than flattering. After all, Harry had spent years assuming the worst about Snape, and only Dumbledore's revelation that Snape had been and still was a spy had changed Harry's mind. Instead of commenting on Snape's jab, he said, "I could have just watched you telling him. Then I'd know everything." Snape tensed up beside Harry. "But I didn't. Don't worry."

"Purposefully entering the Dark Lord's mind may be the stupidest thing you are capable of, Potter. And should I ever discover you doing so, I will see to it that you spend the rest of your life drugged to just this side of consciousness in order to prevent you doing so again."

"You said that all wrong," Harry said absentmindedly as he stirred his potion. "You mean you'll kill me if I do it. Keeping me conscious would give the impression that you'd rather me survive your punishment intact. Can't have that rumor floating about. Anyway, I said I didn't," Harry reminded him, trying to ease the tension. "I could have, though. It wouldn't be too hard. Happens easily enough when I don't want it to, lately."

"Harry, we still have no idea if the Dark Lord is capable of discovering your presence, nor-"

"Nor do we know if he'll be able to use the link to hurt me. I know that, Professor." Snape gave him a measuring look. "It wasn't worth the risk, so I didn't do it."

"And what, exactly, would you consider to be worth the risk?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not going to sit in his head all day hoping to catch some piece of information. I've seen what he does for fun, and I'd lose my mind if I had to watch that. It's been dumb luck so far that I've seen things that have helped."

"I'm glad you see that, Harry. I had not mentioned it to you until now because I feared that planting the idea in your head would do more harm than good. I should have realized you would have at least considered the possibility of establishing the link on your own. By entering his mind, you are taking a greater risk than I am when I respond to his summons. I know exactly what to expect, but there is far too much unknown about your bond."

Harry nodded. Once again, he consoled himself with the knowledge that he had not technically lied to Snape. He had said nothing at all about testing the bond later. He had simply pointed out that this time, he had not used it. It was not lost on the young man that even a few months ago he would have lied outright to his professor without a twinge of guilt.

The potion finished setting and Harry bottled it before cleaning up his work area in a comfortable silence. When he finished, Snape motioned for him to come over to the Potions Master's own cauldron.

"This is the first stage of the potion you asked about. The one they gave the Longbottoms. It is quite extraordinary, actually. The potion was used long ago to combat what is called 'phantom pain' wherein a wizard experienced pain from a lost limb. It deals directly with the parts of the brain that handles pain, just as most Muggle drugs do. Since most limbs are regrown magically, the potion has fallen by the wayside. This batch should get you through the Markings. And no, you will not be permitted to help me brew it." Harry chuckled at the reminder of the help he had tried to provide when Remus had needed the Skele-Gro potion.

"When?" Harry asked.

"The week before the new term. If there is any change I will be informed immediately."

"Okay." Harry was uncomfortable making plans like these. He did not want to think about people he had grown up with, even those he disliked, joining the Death Eaters. Harry turned to leave and had a foot in the hallway when Snape's voice stopped him. "You were wrong in the kitchen, by the way. Another Gryffindor trait is jumping to conclusions. I would not say that trusting your friends is foolish. If anything, most of the Order fears that when the time comes, you will not trust them enough. Close the door behind you, please."

Harry did as he was told, knowing that further discussion would lead nowhere after he had been dismissed. Typical Snape–leaving the most interesting part of the conversation till the end.

He returned to his room to find Ron and Neville doing push-ups on the floor. Both boys had spent some time after lunch speaking with Shacklebolt, drilling him for tips on how to get stronger before the summer was over. Hermione sat on Harry's bed looking through one of the notebooks she had filled with ideas about the Dark Mark. At the table, Ginny was writing a letter to someone, probably Dean, even though it was unlikely she would be allowed to mail it any time soon.

The young wizard considered his professor's words. He did trust his friends. He trusted them with his life. But he still had a secret he had not yet brought himself to trust them with, and it hurt a part of him to admit that. He had no rational excuse for secrecy. He should tell them. He doubted any of his friends would turn their back on him over this. Not after they had proven themselves in the face of a band of Death Eaters just a few months before. And even if they did, it was better to find that out here and now instead of in the heat of battle. Harry pushed that last thought from his mind. It was not fair to his friends to think like that. He had just promised them he would have faith in them, and he would keep that promise.

"Hey guys," Harry said, pulling the door closed and settling on the foot of the bed. "Listen, there's something I've been wanting to tell you." Ron and Neville sat on the floor, and Ginny put her quill down.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked.

"Well, it's nothing, really. I mean, it's nothing as important as all the stuff we've been talking about lately–Voldemort and the Dark Mark and such." Harry twisted at a loose thread in the blanket he was sitting on. "But I keep putting it off, and I really don't know why. But every day I wait, it's harder to say than it was the day before. Because how do you say, 'Oh, by the way, I didn't tell you this yesterday, or last week, or the week before, or last year.' So I don't want to keep doing that. And I don't want you to feel bad that I didn't tell you until now, because it's completely not about you, it's just me being stupid and scared and not wanting to say it."

Harry gathered the courage to look around and recognized the terror in his friends' faces. What did they expect him to say next? What ever it was, the truth probably would look better than what they were imagining. He let his friends off the hook. "I'm gay," he said quickly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I guess I just wasn't ready."

He stared at Ron, worried most about his best friend's reaction. Once the words sunk in, Ron tilted his head back and started laughing. "Merlin, Harry! I thought you were going to tell us that you had to duel Voldemort tomorrow or something."

Ginny and Neville chuckled too. "A bit dramatic, there, Harry," Neville said.

"Well, his kind usually are, aren't they?" Ginny asked Neville.

Harry blushed, and Ginny got up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'm just teasing, Harry. You don't have to worry about me and Ron. Mum's got a gay cousin. We just sort of grew up with it, I guess, and never saw the big deal." Ron nodded behind her.

"Gran'll have a fit," Neville said and smirked. "Me sharing a room with one of them. But she also thinks that Muggle clothes should be illegal, so I don't listen too much when she gets going on stuff like that. I'm surprised, but I guess it doesn't matter."

Harry smiled and sighed with relief. Snape had been right. It did feel good to say it. He looked over at Hermione who was looking back at him with an unreadable expression. He had said what he needed to say, now it was her turn.

"Well, of course I'm still your friend. . ." she said. Her voice was sharp to Harry's ears. Tucking the quill into the journal to hold the place, she dropped the book onto the bed and headed to the door. "I need to look something up in the library." Harry frowned at her retreating form. He heard her voice in his head and filled in where she had left off. Well, of course I'm still your friend. Despite what you are.

"Don't worry about her, Harry," Ron said. "She'll come around. She's too logical to have a problem with something as silly as this. Probably just mad she didn't figure it out sooner."

Harry responded with a half-hearted smile and hoped his friend was right.