Unforgivable Promises

Unforgivable Promises

Chapter 14

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The day after the Markings, Harry discovered that time, and even the Order of the Phoenix itself, was against him in his plight to save his professor. Rather than having time to spend with his friends trying to figure out everything Harry had witnessed, he was packing up his trunk. As he and the rest scoured the manor in search of items misplaced over the past few months, he found himself thinking of Luna and her similar plight at the end of last term. He wondered if she had spotted any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

With his trunk finally ready and waiting at the door alongside his friends' for transport to Hogwarts, Harry sat in the kitchen and complained to Remus about the sudden change in living arrangements. "I don't see why we all have to go back to the school now. The term doesn't start till next week."

"You know it's safer there, Harry. It's just a matter of time before this place is found out, after all. Besides, your teachers need to prepare the school and we can't spare anyone to keep an eye on you kids."

Harry was about to protest that they were not "kids" and did not need constant monitoring, but closed his mouth. He knew Remus was right, and he really did not mind going back to the school. But he also knew that the answer to saving Snape was buried somewhere in what he had seen yesterday, and he resented having to spend most of the day doing anything but sort it all out.

Mrs. Weasley ushered her children, along with Neville and Hermione, into to kitchen. She, it seemed, agreed with Harry.

"I can be spared, Remus. And I told Albus as much, but he chose to dismiss the idea."

"It's not safe here, Molly. Or it won't be for much longer. Hogwarts has wards-"

"It doesn't have me!" Mrs. Weasley slammed a pan down on the counter. Harry nearly jumped out of his chair. He had seen his friends' mother upset at all manner of things, but she had never seemed so angry. Her hands were white and Harry could almost imagine they were denting the pan she gripped. "It's a mother's job to protect her children."

"Molly," Remus said calmly, "if, through some feat of magic far beyond anything even You-Know-Who has yet managed, a group of Death Eaters were to get into Hogwarts, past the wards and teachers and the Aurors, do you know what will happen?" Harry saw Mrs. Weasley flinch at the mention of Death Eaters, but she did not answer. Remus sat back in his chair and charmed the silverware on the table to stand on end. "Their first act will be to separate Harry from his friends."

Remus sent a spoon hovering to one side and four forks to another. A wall of knives floated between them. "Do you know what happens then?" Remus asked casually. Nodding to the spoon, he continued. "Harry will proceed to protect his friends." Gesturing to the forks, he said, "And his friends will proceed to protect him. And do you know what else will happen? Ron will protect his little sister. Ginny will protect her big brother. Just like they promised. Hermione will step up to the challenge in a manner that will surpass anything she has done in the past, and that is no small thing. And Neville, well, Neville's a Longbottom." Remus gazed at his dancing silverware thoughtfully for a moment. With a flick of his wand, the knives dropped from the air and clattered on the table. "Hell, Molly, I almost feel bad for the Death Eaters." Everyone at the table sat up a bit straighter when Remus mentioned their name, and Harry wished he felt as confident as the werewolf appeared.

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "I wish I could agree with you, Remus."

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Just as the group finished dinner, Snape swept into the kitchen and ordered them to the attic. They had missed all lessons that day due to their packing, and Harry had not even known the man was in the building. But there had always been an understanding that in the evening the students were left to their own devices, and all were curious.

Upstairs, Snape stood beside a table that held several ornate wooden boxes. Pencil cases? Harry thought.

With no preamble, Snape picked up the boxes and handed on to each. Harry's bore the letters "HP" engraved across the top, and he looked over to see that everyone got one with their own monogram.

"What I am giving you," Snape lectured, "is not to be mistaken for a gift. It is not an indication of warm regards, or, for that matter, any particular recession of dislike." He flashed a signature sneer before continuing. "So I will insist that any misplaced feelings of gratitude not be accompanied with a display of such. Are we clear?" Everyone nodded, and the man looked expectantly at them. As no one seemed willing to take the lead, Harry finally opened his box.

Resting on dark green velvet, Harry found a wand. Not just a wand, but his wand. His hand quickly found the reassuring length of wood in his robe pocket, and he looked at his friends, confused. His friends, however, had opened their own gifts-that-were-not-gifts, and were displaying various degrees of awe. Next to him, Ron was holding up a flawless masterpiece. He held it for Harry to see. Even the grains of the wood seemed perfectly placed. Hermione, Ginny and Neville were comparing theirs, all too caught up in their own excitement. From where he stood, and having very little experience with wands, Harry could still see that the ones his friends held were as much a work of art as a tool. He gazed again into his own box and tried not to be disappointed at its ordinariness.

"These wands are not the sturdy, functional pieces that Ollivander spits out," Snape said, maintaining his lecturing tone. "They were fashioned in Barcelona by the De Montanas." Every jaw but Harry's dropped at that revelation. Harry knew he was missing something, and as usual, Ron leaned over and filled him in.

"The De Montanas make the best wands in the world! These must have cost a fortune!"

"The cost, Mr. Weasley, is immaterial." He raised a hand to forestall their thanks, and Harry knew better than to protest the man's casual reference to the rapidly approaching first day of school. "Again, I will not tolerate any gratitude. You will not be using these wands during your lessons. In fact, you will not show them to anyone at all. Like the potions-belt, they are to be kept secret."

Snape plucked the wooden case from Ron's hand and lifted the velvet bottom out. From underneath, he pulled out a piece of cloth. "This is a wrist holster for the wand. There should be one in each of your boxes. The wands themselves are made of the same type of materials as your existing Ollivander ones, simply a far better quality. As such, there should very little adjustment needed to use them." He handed the holster and box to Ron and stepped back again. "At some point, you will all be disarmed by a Death Eater. And, as Death Eaters are generally unable to keep from gloating over a disarmed opponent, I will take that opportunity to reach up from the grave and strike at them a final time. The wands are not gifts; they are my last act of revenge."

No one seemed to know what to say, and Harry assumed Snape had planned it that way. "You may go. The others will want to travel soon." Everyone nodded dumbly, and some mix of fear and obedience kept anyone from even uttering a thank-you. "Remain a moment, Potter."

With the rest gone, Harry finally plucked the wand from its case. He did not want to appear ungrateful, and some part of him berated himself for even having to put on a facade. Presents were too rare in his life for him to take anyone's generosity for granted, but he could not help but feel let down. As he turned the wand over in his hand, he realized that not only had Snape given him a wand that was far less impressive than what the others had received, it was nearly an exact duplicate. Still, he had no right to be disappointed.

"Not much to look at, is it?" Snape said. Harry never grew used to Snape's penchant for knowing his thoughts.

"It's lovely, sir." Harry lied. "I know you said you didn't want us to say thanks, but-"

"You're disappointed, which is to be expected. However, Harry, I can assure you that far more planning and work went into the wand you hold than went into any of the others. For those, I simply had the De Montanas match the wood and core and left the aesthetics to them. Yours had to be a nearly exact replica. There is a difference, though I do not know if you have held it properly yet to have discovered it."

Puzzled, Harry shifted the wand. Holding it as if ready to cast a spell, Harry felt a subtle series of ridges under his thumb. "It's notched or something."

Snape nodded. "Done so you can tell them apart. Have you figured out why yours needed to look the same as the old?"

"Because of Voldemort," Harry said simply.

"I am gratified to see you thinking logically rather than with sentimentality."

"I don't suppose I am, Professor. I don't really know why. But everything's because of Voldemort, so it seemed a good guess." Harry knew the joke came out flat, and Snape gave him one of those looks that could almost border on sympathetic.

"I suppose that is true," Snape said. "As for the wand, there is one quality that was deliberately not reproduced." He looked to be waiting for Harry to catch up.

"The core's not from Fawkes?"

"Correct. That may or may not be liability, Harry, but both Albus and I feel that it is best if your spare wand not be linked to the Dark Lord's. While that may have saved your life once, you cannot assume that he will be unprepared next time. It is possible that he will even find a way to use that against you."

"So if he does, he won't be able to tell which wand I'm using." Harry caught on, and he suddenly felt stupid for feeling bad about the gift.

"Correct. As for which to use when you find yourself face to face with him, it may very well prove immaterial. But if not, only you will be in a position to choose."

Harry had another thought. "If they look the same, I can use mine around other people, right? No one at school would know the difference?"

"As long as you are careful not to display both at one time, I see no reason why you cannot use that wand instead of the other if you want." The young man smiled. He liked the idea of hiding his secret in plain sight. It also more than made up for the ordinariness of his wand. As beautiful as everyone else's were, at least he could use his whenever he wanted.

Harry still wanted to thank the man but was again interrupted. "You should go, Harry. They are no doubt waiting." With a wince, Snape's hand went up to grip his Mark through his robe. "And please tell whomever is still here that I will join the faculty back at the school when I am able."

Harry's eyes grew wide at the strain in Snape's voice. "It's burning? You didn't expect to be called, did you?"

"No, I did not. And the pull is very strong. Something is afoot." Before Harry could ask anything else, Snape was out the door and moving swiftly down the stairs.

Harry followed, and after a few moments taken to explain Snape's sudden departure, the group of students were portkeyed to Hogwarts. Harry rushed his friends to the Gryffindor common room as soon as he could get away from the adults without raising suspicion. Once they were alone, Harry dropped his trunk and sat on one of the couches.

"I'm checking up on Snape," he said. "He wasn't expecting to be called back to Voldemort this week."

"Do you think he's been discovered?" Neville asked.

"I don't know. Voldemort may just be checking about what he's got planned for me. Probably wants to gloat. I'll try not to be long." The group looked nervous, but everyone nodded. Harry was relieved that no one tried to talk him out of it.

Getting into Voldemort's mind took little effort. He no longer needed to get himself quite so worked up, and he took that as a sign that he had more control over the bond now that he had taken the time to focus on it.

Dark stone walls slid past as he made his way down the hall in long, flowing strides. The sound of his servant's steps followed him, as he expected.

"She is waiting in your laboratory. If she dies too soon, I will be most displeased."

"Yes, my Lord." Snape's voice carried from behind as they entered a dark chamber. A long table held orderly rows of potions. Behind them, shackled to the wall, was the prize. Snape stepped into view and went over to the prisoner. As the Potions Master studied her wounds, Voldemort savored the taste of blood in the air. Unable to resist, he approached his latest toy and tilted her face into the dim candlelight. Dried blood glued her hair to her face, but he could still make out her features. And her eyes were slightly open. So she was conscious, if only barely. That was good. It meant she was strong. Many young girls her age had died after much less. He would make sure that strength lasted the week as he made her pay for aiding Potter.

"Miss Lovegood," Snape said, his voice cold and distant. "I see my master has caught up to you. You should have killed yourself." With a soft snicker, the teacher grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her head back. Pouring a potion down her throat, he let go of her and her head dropped heavily against her chest. "She will survive, my Lord. In a few hours, she will be well and whole again for your amusement. I am honored that you have trusted me with her life just as you have trusted me with her boyfriend's death."

"Boyfriend?" Voldemort's voice hissed from his steely throat. "Potter is her boyfriend?" Satisfaction filled him as he planned new ways to make the girl scream for her own death. Yes, calling Snape here was the correct choice. Only a Master could keep the girl alive through what he would do to her.

"I have just learned of it myself, my Lord. They have been corresponding through Dumbledore all summer. No doubt the pining brat has already emptied the stockroom of every candy store in Hogsmeade as he anxiously awaits her arrival tonight." Another snicker. "And her father? He is dead?"

"Alive when your brethren left him, but wounded and wandless. I am told he will not survive the night. Though I care little if he lives or dies. She was the target."

"Of course, my Lord." Snape bowed respectfully and turned to his work table. "She shall need an hour or so before my potions have her healed to your satisfaction. Shall I have a chair brought for you here?"

The man was such a good servant, always mindful of his place and always careful to see to his Lord's needs. "There is no need. I will leave you to your work. Had I known that Potter cared for her, I would have instructed my children to be more careful in her capture. See to it that she recovers completely."

"Of course, my Lord. I promise she will not disappoint you. I will inform you as soon as she is ready."

With a nod, he turned away and left the room. In an hour, he would play. Maybe he would have Severus show Potter pieces of the girl before he killed him.

Harry pulled himself away, worried that his revulsion would become strong enough for Voldemort to sense through the scar. Disoriented for a moment, Harry pulled himself together as the full weight of Snape's odd comments hit him.

"Voldemort's got Luna!" Harry jumped from the couch and ran to his trunk, rummaging around for the Marauder's Map and his cloak. "Snape's going to free her. We need to meet them under Honeydukes."

"Wait a minute Harry," Hermione said as Harry made for the portrait hole. "We need to tell someone what's going on. If you heard what Snape said, Voldemort did too, didn't he?"

"It was in code. There's no time to explain, Hermione. We should tell someone, though. Can Crookshanks get a message to Dumbledore? Or Remus, if he's still here?"

"Brilliant!" Hermione paused to write a quick note which she tucked under Crookshank's collar. "Take this to Headmaster Dumbledore, Crookshanks. Run!" The cat took off, an orange streak heading down the corridor. Harry watched the animal with satisfaction, hoping that it was indeed trying to find the Headmaster and not off looking for garden gnomes.

The group made it to the passage in record time. As they neared the end of the tunnel, Harry slowed to a halt. "We need a plan. There will probably be people up there, and Luna looked really bad. Snape can't just carry her into the basement of Honeydukes. I'm going to go up with the invisibility cloak."

"Let's all go up," said Ron. "We can sneak up one at a time. If any Death Eaters show, we'll be there to help."

Harry nodded. "We should still have some time before Voldemort notices he's missing. But that's a good plan. If we can't all get back into the passage, use the Shrieking Shack or head for the gate, okay? I don't know what the wards are like on the secret passages, but we should be safe if we use the regular gate. Hopefully Dumbledore will send someone there." Everyone agreed, and Harry slipped his cloak on and headed through the trapdoor.

Out in the street, Harry picked an out of the way corner and watched the crowd. How long would Snape take to get here? How much time had passed since Voldemort left him alone with Luna? Harry cursed himself for not checking the time earlier. Moments passed, and Harry saw Ron come out of Honeydukes. He made his way behind his friend and whispered in his ear, causing Ron to jump. "See that corner over there? Right where the post office sticks out into the street? I'll be there, okay? Try to find somewhere on the other side of the street. I don't know where Snape'll be coming from." Having collected himself, Ron nodded silently and made his way down the street just as Hermione and Ginny came out onto the street and casually window-shopped as they headed further away.

Scanning the crowd, Harry spotted a flash of dark robes hidden by shrubs. Wand out, Harry crept along until he spotted his professors face. Relieved but still wary, he avoided stepping on any twigs or leaves as he approached. "Professor," he whispered as he neared. Snape looked up, eyes alert. "It's me, Professor. It's Harry." The other man nodded, still searching for the source of the voice. Harry rested his hand on the Potion Master's shoulder. Now he could see that he was cradling Luna against him, and the girl was almost entirely enveloped in his robes. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She will be fine. I gave her healing potions, and one for sleep. Her wounds are serious, but Madame Pomfrey can restore her. And how are you managing to stay hidden?"

"Invisibility cloak," Harry explained. "I'm going to put it around you, okay? Do you know where the trapdoor in Honeydukes is?"

"No, I have never used that particular passage. Lupin informed me of it just this summer."

"Then I'll have to sneak back in there with you." Harry glanced around for onlookers and swept off the cloak. Wasting no time, he draped it over Snape's shoulders and tucked it around Luna.

When Harry returned to the street, neither Ron nor the girls were in sight. Worried about their disappearance, Harry forced himself to trust them to find their own way back to the school. Once inside the candy store again, he heard Snape's voice just behind him. "You will need to wait for the right moment before going into the basement. I will meet you there." Harry felt something unseen brush against his back and knew that any response would not be heard.

Pretending to peruse the new batch of Lava Gumballs, he edged closer to the doorway. Finally, opportunity presented itself in the form of a toddler, a barrel of Slippery Suckers, and a suddenly very distracted store attendant. Once back in the cellar, Harry pulled the trapdoor open, surprising Neville, who barely contained his shriek of surprise.

"Everything okay, Harry?" he asked, then contained another shriek as Snape materialized in front if him. Harry followed him into the passage and pulled the door closed. Snape was kneeling now, and had his fingers pressed against Luna's neck.

"She remains stable," the professor announced.

"Lumos," Harry said, bathing the four in a white light. Now that he could see her clearly, Harry's heart started thumping harder in his chest. Blood and dirt was caked in her hair and on her face, and several gashes on her sleeves were stained red. Neville was staring at her.

Without a word, Snape stood and hurried down the corridor, leaving Harry and Neville to catch up. After a hundred meters, he stopped suddenly. Eyes narrowed, he turned around and glared at Neville. "Longbottom, take her." Neville stammered something, but held his arms out.

"She hardly weighs anything at all," Neville said to Harry.

"She has lost a good deal of blood. Blood has weight. As such, the more blood she loses, the less she will weigh. She is still a burden, however, and for now, she is your burden, not mine." The words were cruel and cold as he spoke them, and Neville turned white at the callousness. Harry was taken aback, but realization dawned on him quickly. Neville stumbled forward, still gripping his wounded friend to him, and Harry and Snape led the way.

"How long until he finds out?" Harry asked Snape in a voice he hoped Neville wouldn't hear.

"Not long, I would imagine. Tell Poppy that she was given nothing unusual, and the curses that caused her wounds have all faded. There should be no residual magic to complicate her treatment."

Harry's jaw clenched. This was not supposed to happen! He knew the secret to freeing Snape was somewhere in his head. He just needed time to find it. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione and Dumbledore about what he had seen the other night. He was supposed to have another week, not mere minutes.

Light from ahead of them caused the three to slow down. Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak from Snape and ran ahead as he pulled it over him. If enemies were coming for them, they would soon get a surprise.

But no enemies were lurking, only a frantic Remus, who nearly ran into Harry as the boy removed the cloak. "Remus! We've got Snape and Luna. We're okay, but I don't know where Ron, Hermione and Ginny are. They may be at the gate."

"Albus is going down through the gate, Harry, don't worry. If they're there, he'll find them. And if they're in trouble, that's the best place for him to be."

"What about the Shrieking Shack? I told them to use that passage if they had to." Harry was consumed with worry, but knew that panicking would only slow down everyone.

"Damn!" Remus draw his wand. "We didn't send anyone that way. Don't worry, Harry. I'll head out through Honeydukes and come back through the Shack. I know the old place better than anyone else. Do you know if any Death Eaters are about?"

Harry shook his head. "I didn't see anyone I recognized, and if Voldemort knew Snape had betrayed him, we'd know it. But it's just a matter of time." Remus nodded in understanding. With a final, unreadable look at Snape, Remus saluted with his wand and ran down the passage to Hogsmeade. Neville awkwardly shifted Luna's weight, and Snape motioned for them all to continue. They did not make it very far.

Harry had taken a few steps when Snape let out a gasp and fell against the wall. He rushed to his teacher's side to find him grasping his arm. Caught between a friend nearly dead and a friend he knew was quickly dying, Harry made a quick decision.

"Neville, can you make it back to the castle alone?" Neville nodded confidently at the question, but his gaze quickly turned, worried, to Snape. "Get help for Luna, then. I'm going to stay here with Snape. Send Dumbledore down here as soon as you can, though. I think we're both going to need him."

With Neville running as fast as he could with his burden, Harry grabbed Snape's wrist. The man was not making a sound, but his whole body shook violently. Harry's scar throbbed in time, and he knew he was feeling rage beyond anything Voldemort had sent to him before. His mind raced as he conjured up every conversation he and Hermione had had about the Mark. But it had always been conjecture. What if this, what if that. . . What if. . .

What if the Mark had been burning? Hermione's voice came to him. She had no answers to that, either, but her guesses were the best thing he had to go on. It might kill him; it might make it worse. But it might work.

Before he could reconsider, Harry grabbed Snape's arm. The man was writhing in pain, and it took all of Harry's strength to pull the man's arm away from his chest long enough to push up the sleeve. In a single motion, Harry laid his arm across the now bloody Mark that burned across Snape's flesh and cast a binding charm. Ropes tangled around both forearms, pressing Harry's skin to Snape's. With the contact made, Harry slipped out of himself and into a world filled with pain.