Unforgivable Promises

Unforgivable Promises

Chapter 17

-----

To no one's surprise, Rita Skeeter wasted no time and jumped on her assignment. She must have worked through the night, as Luna produced a copy of The Quibbler at breakfast. Harry held the paper up for Snape to see.

"Interesting headline, isn't it, professor?" Snape glanced over at Harry, unimpressed. He held Harry's eye for a moment in a silent rebuke. Harry dropped the paper and Ron quickly picked it up.

"Fudge: Uncaring or Incompetent?" Ron read. "I think it's bloody brilliant."

Hermione nudged Ron and whispered something to him. With a sigh, he too lowered the paper. Despite the necessity of keeping their role in the article a secret, all the students were in the mood to celebrate. The article had called for an investigation into Fudge's administration. Skeeter had gone so far as to suggest that it was Fudge's steadfast refusal to even consider Voldemort's return that had allowed it to happen. Inside the paper was an in-depth account of all the evidence Fudge had dismissed as rumor. Attention was drawn to the fact that the investigation into Umbridge's time as Headmaster had revealed that both Harry and Dumbledore had warned of the Dark Lord's rising. Criticism stopped short of accusing Fudge of supporting Voldemort, but only just barely.

Breakfast was a high-spirited affair.

Dumbledore arrived late for breakfast for the second day in a row. "Good morning, all. Miss Lovegood, it is most excellent to you see you doing well."

"Thank you, Headmaster," she answered.

"It would appear that your . . ." Dumbledore paused and gazed at the students collected there. "Your father has stirred up a good deal of trouble."

"He does that, yes, sir." Luna smiled shyly.

"I will be absent for the rest of the day. I have been called to the Ministry."

"Headmaster," Harry spoke up. "Do you think people will take the story seriously?"

"I have been informed that The Daily Prophet is picking up the story for the evening edition and will be calling for the Minister's resignation. He will certainly have much to answer for."

Assuming Fudge had few answers to give, Harry was satisfied for the time being. "I suppose he does."

After the meal, Snape asked Harry to stay in the Great Hall as the others left.

"With the term about to begin, I trust you are aware that our usual routine must end," Snape said. "The summer is over, after all. Back to reality, so to speak."

"Oh, yes, sir. I suppose I understand. With all the students around and everything . . ."

Snape tilted his head with a smirk. Finally, he let out a single low chuckle. "I believe you are mistaken, Harry. I was referring to your lessons. You are doing better than passable work in potions. If you take the time to revise what we did not get to, I think you will discover your understanding will continue to improve. I certainly expect significantly better work from you this term. Combat training will continue in some fashion, though with me or whomever Albus decides upon for Defense remains to be seen. Either way it will not be daily. As for Occlumency, I have taught you as much as I can. You have demonstrated as much control over your bond as I believe is possible. You certainly should be able to shield yourself from the intrusions of last year."

"You can still win through, though," Harry pointed out. "My shields eventually wear out."

"That is inevitable against any wizard of skill and power. Occlumency is no match for Legilemency, at least not in a pitched attack such as I have used against you. To be blunt, if you are restrained long enough to undergo the kind of prolonged mental attacks I staged, then Legilemency will likely not be used. Veritaserum or physical torture is more likely as it does not leave the interrogator as vulnerable. You can protect yourself from the Dark Lord, which is the most important result."

Harry nodded in understanding. The combat training was supposed to keep him from ending up in a situation where Veritaserum or torture could be used, so he was covering those bases as well.

Snape went on. "I assume you believed I meant that my treatment of you would change with start of classes. As for that, I have already explained to you that I will not tolerate you taking advantage of any relaxed relationship we may share. When school starts, you will treat me with the same respect as any other professor."

Harry nodded again. This was beginning to feel like a lecture. Snape considered Harry's tense posture and leaned back in his own chair. "Honestly, Harry, I do not expect many problems of that nature. You have been respectful to your other teachers, and I am confident that we have both relegated our past to where it belongs. This summer, you were only disrespectful a handful of times. As those times were precipitated by my own behavior, there should be no further problems between us. Do you agree?"

It seemed that Snape was offering some kind of apology. Or if not an apology, it was at least an offer to begin fresh, and Harry had no objection to that. "I do, sir. And I also understand why you were angry at me that day in the kitchen. You were right, I was showing off for my friends. I promise not to accuse you of acting mysterious and brooding in class."

"If you break that promise, be sure do so late in the year. There is little fun in deducting several hundred points from Gryffindor before you have had a chance to earn that many."

Harry grinned. "Do I have to pretend to still hate you, though? We were talking about this last night, actually. Luna's never really disliked you, and I won't get into how interesting I find that, but the rest of us have made it pretty clear we didn't like you before. We figure there are reasons to keep everything a secret, and reasons not to."

"And those reasons are?" Snape steepled his fingers and gazed at Harry. The boy had the distinct feeling that Snape already knew both sides of the argument but wanted to see what the students had come up with.

"Well, the Dark Lord probably hasn't made what happened the other night common knowledge. He definitely wouldn't want other Death Eaters thinking that there's some way they can escape the Mark. That means they may not be looking for you, or if they are, they don't know why, and that can only make you safer. On the other hand, if we spread the word that you've been a spy for years, you've been discovered, and despite a rather painful attempt at punishment, still quite alive, that may help people see that Voldemort's not invincible. It also may bring other Death Eaters here looking to defect."

"That is the same conclusion I have arrived at. My inclination is to make some of my story known to the general public. At the very least, it should be leaked that a spy was discovered and saved. If we are seen to be getting along, there will be assumptions made that I am said spy, but I really don't care either way. I will speak to Albus. He may see another angle we have missed. And you realize, Harry, that if the students notice any changes, it will be you and your friends, not me, who are questioned about it."

"That's no problem. We can tell them whatever we want, really. The truth, or some of it at least, is probably okay. You tutored me in potions, we got to know each other better, and we stopped hating each other. None of us are going to talk about the combat training or the Occlumency lessons, obviously. All our really good stories from the summer involve me screaming and passing out at some point, and I don't think we want Voldemort knowing that was going on when he wasn't doing it to me on purpose."

"The stories about you passing out are the good ones?"

"Well, they're more interesting than the ones about Hagrid making breakfast."

"That depends upon how the story is rated. If danger is a major factor, then breakfast by Hagrid is fascinating."

"I suppose so. The Dark Lord, or Hagrid's homemade sausage. It's a toss up." Harry grinned foolishly, then grew serious as a thought struck him. "Professor, do you know if the Headmaster's going to the Ministry is a secret?"

"It common knowledge; his presence was officially requested by Amelia Bones. The Wizengamot will likely be meeting to discuss Umbridge. Why?"

"Well, the Dark Lord probably knows about it, right? It seems to me that he might try testing your Mark, then."

"The thought had occurred to me as well."

"And you were going to let me run off with everyone else and not say anything?" Harry raised an eyebrow at Snape in a poor imitation of the other man.

"That was exactly what I intended on doing. It is not your duty to hover about me waiting for my Mark to burn."

"I had no intentions of hovering, actually. Weren't there a few potions you wanted me to try out during the summer but were too dangerous? Can't I do that while you get ready for the start of term?"

"Very well, if you want to spend the day in the dungeons, who am I to object?"

"I'll just tell everyone where I'll be, and join you down there in a little bit, if that's okay," Harry said, and ran off to find his friends. He found them behind the tapestry in the library, exactly where he had expected them. Hermione already had a stack of books in front of her. The other five were seated in a corner.

"Hey, Harry," Neville called out. "What do you think of us teaching Luna what we learned this summer? I wouldn't know how to teach all the physical stuff, but she can probably learn the spells easily enough."

"I think it's a great idea, Neville. I can't do it today, but the rest of you can. I'm going to spend the day in the dungeons, I think. With Dumbledore gone, Voldemort will probably try something with his Mark."

"All day with Snape? Boy, Harry, you can't catch a break, can you?" Ron asked. "I thought you'd be free of him now that we're back at school."

"He isn't that bad, Ron," Harry said. The red-head looked scandalized. "Come on, really. You have to admit he wasn't nearly as mean this summer. Tough maybe, but he was teaching us how to defend ourselves, after all. You can't be too nice when you do that, I suppose. No more insults, though."

"I suppose," Ron admitted grudgingly. "Do you want us to go down there with you? Ginny wanted help with a few of the spells we learned, so we can all get in some practice. It doesn't matter where. And Hermione's lost in her books, so she'd probably be happy to see us somewhere else." As Hermione did not even look up at the mention of her name, Harry had the feeling she would not notice if they stayed or left. He was comforted knowing she was on the problem so enthusiastically. He considered Ron's offer, and appreciated that his friend was willing to spend the day in enemy territory just to keep him company.

"Better not, Ron. It's bad enough he'll have to put up with me. If we all showed up, he might decide he'd rather risk Voldemort." Luna giggled, and Harry made for the dungeon.

The rest of the morning passed much as the summer had. Harry worked on a few potions with little trouble, only pausing now and then to ask Snape a question when the textbook's information was unsatisfactory. He had lost track of time when his stomach reminded him that breakfast had been a long time ago. Shortly after, Snape returned from his office followed by a House Elf. Snape gestured to his desk, and the Elf snapped its fingers, causing several platters and two place settings to appear. Harry's eyes grew wide. "You didn't hear my stomach from in your office, did you?"

With a chuckle, Snape replied, "No, my hearing is not quite so acute. After so many years of teaching, however, I am well acquainted with the needs of sixteen-year-old boys' bodies." Snape's tone did not bear even a hint of irony, but Harry found himself blushing at the remark nonetheless. When the Potions Master noticed his reaction, he merely rolled his eyes and sat down.

Harry pulled a chair over to the other side of the desk and surveyed the meal. Noticing that the only drink available was tea, he said, "You forgot the cream, professor. And you're usually so thorough."

"Cream? Typical. I should have expected you would wish to destroy the tea. I will have a House Elf bring some."

"Mocking how I take my tea, professor? Isn't that stretching things a bit?"

"Oh, I think not. I have insulted you for far less."

An Elf brought the cream and the two ate in a comfortable silence until Harry looked up to see Snape nearly dropping his fork in his lap. The man quickly put his utensils down and rested his arms on the table. He was about to ask if something was wrong when he noticed the man's arm was not resting on the table, but pressing against it. The Mark, he thought, then reached over to take his instructor's wrist. Snape allowed his arm to be pulled across the desk as Harry took a deep breath, then slid his hand up the older man's sleeve.

The pain was worse this time. Harry assumed Voldemort had been building it up slowly as a test. He did not suffer long, though, as the pain disappeared within moments of him making contact. Snape pulled his arm out of Harry's grasp and the young man once again sat in his own body.

Harry found himself annoyed. "Were you planning on telling me the Mark was burning? The worse it gets, the more both of us end up in pain, you know."

"As a matter of fact," Snape said calmly, "I was not going to tell you. For all I knew, he was calling a meeting and I was simply caught up in it. And even so, while I will not refuse your help, I will absolutely not ask you for it."

"Are you really that stubborn? Too proud to admit you're in pain?" Harry grew even more frustrated. How could he help the man if he refused to let him know when he was under an attack?

"If you wish to call it stubborn pride, you may do so." The Potions Master finished his tea, then stood and returned to his office. Harry remained at the desk, staring at his tea as if to heat it up by force of will. Finally, his tea gone cold, he stood and stepped into the doorway of Snape's office.

He watched the man work for several minutes. Snape did not look up. "You can say it if you'd like," Harry eventually offered.

"What exactly do you think I would like to say?"

"That I have some nerve getting mad at someone for not asking for help. The irony is not lost on me." Snape looked up and studied his student, but said nothing. Harry held his gaze, then continued. "It's just a little more pain for me, Professor. I get a lot more than that leaking through my scar when he's really mad. You know that. It can lead to much worse, though. So doesn't it make sense for you to mention it as soon as the Mark starts up?"

"Listen to yourself, Harry. You're arguing that your life is so full of pain, I shouldn't worry about adding a little more. Whereas I see that as all the more reason to save you from what little I can."

"And if he kills you because I wasn't fast enough to stop him? How much pain do you think I'll be in then." Harry crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "If you don't let me help you, I'll blame myself for your death, just to spite you."

"It has passed, Harry. He will not try again, I imagine. You can join your friends in the library."

That was a dismissal, but Harry persisted. "And if he does try again today? Or tomorrow? Or whenever? Will you tell me?"

"We will have to wait and see, won't we?" Snape's voice had an edge to it, but Harry did not back down and did not leave the doorway. He held his ground as the man glared at him. Snape shuffled the papers in front of him and said, "I will be no more accustomed to asking for help tomorrow than I am today. We will have to wait and see."

Unsatisfied, but knowing that was the best answer Snape could give, Harry asked, "Can I stay in the classroom? I still have a few more potions I want to try."

"That is up to you. Just be sure to mind the time and clean up before dinner."

-----

And so, the last days of summer drifted by. Some progress had been made in tracking down the unknown spells used in the Markings, but Flitwick still worried that something was missing. Unless one of the as-yet unrecognized incantations proved to be extraordinarily powerful or complex, there was no way to account for the way the spells behaved as a single unit. And until that mystery was solved, any attempt to unravel the spells they knew of could be more disastrous than leaving Snape Marked. So, work continued, and Harry found his days spent either battling with his friends or being frustrated in the library. He, and everyone else, still held hope. Harry was keeping the Dark Lord at bay, and the faculty was so busy preparing for the beginning of term that they had little time to spare. The good news was that once things calmed down, even more effort could be expended.

Outside of Hogwarts, Fudge was coming under attack from all sides. After Umbridge's trial, more and more Ministry officials had come forward to the press, bringing tales of poor judgement, stubborn denials of Voldemort's rising, and gross mismanagement of many departments. The Daily Prophet was reminding everyone of the countless empty assurances Fudge had given the Wizarding world, while managing to ignore its own role in lulling the populace into a false sense of peace. Fudge had taken a leave of absence and Amelia Bones was named Acting Minister. Few expected him to resume his duties.

Bones's first act as Minister was to formally declare martial law in all Wizard communities. As such, on the first day of school, a team of Aurors headed by Shacklebolt descended upon Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and rode the Hogwarts Express as a precautionary measure. A dozen of the Wizards hovered on brooms over the First Years in their boats and followed the Thestrals up to the gate. Harry and the others stood on the steps to the castle, waiting for friends and enemies alike. Shacklebolt had chosen the same spot to oversee the procession, and he and Harry chatted amiably about inconsequentials as their eyes scanned the approaching students for signs of threats. Harry, though, had a single threat in mind, and soon spotted the fair hair and face he was expecting.

"Hello, Malfoy, have a good summer?" Harry's cold tone belied the friendly words. For his part, Malfoy stopped on his way up the stairs, gave Harry a cool stare, and continued up to the castle. On the other side of the steps, Hermione nodded at Harry, who tilted his head in acknowledgment. Now he just needed to get Malfoy to react. "Go anywhere . . . interesting . . . during the holidays, did you?" Harry called after the boy. That got is attention.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Potter?" Draco drawled. Harry smirked; the boy had to be worried about what Harry knew.

"Oh, I just thought you'd been to Azkaban for a family reunion. I hope your father got his own room. It's getting rather crowded in there, I hear. But at least everyone knows their neighbors. Amazing how many Malfoy family friends are being sent off these days, isn't it?"

Malfoy glared, but kept his temper in check. Harry worried he was going to have to work harder at this. The other boy, however, lashed out verbally, "At least my family has friends, Potter. Dead parents don't socialize much, do they?"

"Don't you dare speak of my parents!" Harry snarled and threw himself at Malfoy. He caught him unprepared, and rather than fight, Draco chose to turn and flee. He almost got away, but Harry managed to catch his sleeve. The satisfying shriek of torn fabric left Malfoy's arm bare. Harry grabbed the boy's wrist before he could hide his forearm. Everything had happened so quickly, Shacklebolt hadn't even had time to call to Harry to stop his attack. The Auror stormed over to the pair.

Harry mercilessly yanked Malfoy's arm straight, displaying the Mark to Shacklebolt, who immediately bound the young Death Eater in magical ropes. Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's trusted guards, had taken a step forward to help him, but the moment his arm was exposed they stopped advancing and tried to fade back into the growing crowd. Shacklebolt took control of the situation.

"Professors, I must ask you to divide your students into houses immediately. No one will be entering the school for the time being." He turned to his team of Aurors, several of whom Harry recognized, and ordered, "Split up with the professors and check every last student for the Mark. I don't care what the Board of Governors has said about searches. We have proof of at least one Death Eater here, and this is now out of their jurisdiction."

Satisfied, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his robes, displaying his arms in what was purely a formality, and said to Shacklebolt, "I can watch Malfoy if you'd like, sir. I'm sure he's not going anywhere with your spell on him."

"Yes, thank you, Harry." He gestured for Ron and Hermione to join them. The two displayed their arms without being asked. "Will you two stay here with Harry, just in case?" The two agreed, naturally, and Shacklebolt strode off to see that his orders were being followed.

"Nice spell, Hermione." Harry showed her the sleeve he was holding. "The stitches look like they were cut with scissors. You should take up dressmaking."

"Why thank you, Harry. It's a simple enough spell to cast. It weakens the threads. It's a bit difficult to focus it on a moving target, though, and to only have it affect the seam instead of the fabric of the sleeve. That's the trick, you see. If I hit the whole sleeve, you'd just have torn off the bit at the end, and his forearm would still be covered." Hermione was feeling very pleased with herself, and Harry was enjoying it. She took the cloth from Harry.

"Do you mind if I keep this, Malfoy? I'm sure you understand. It's so difficult for us mudbloods to cast anything right, I'd like a keepsake." She smiled sweetly at their captive, who was glaring at her. Harry nearly took a step back in shock. He had never seen that kind of malevolence in Draco.

Ron was not so put off, however, and said, "That is true, Hermione. But it makes you wonder why a mudblood like you always manages to outdo a pureblood like Malfoy here?"

"It's not nice to say such things, Ron!" Hermione said, feigning shock. "Even purebloods like the Malfoys produce the occasional Squib, but you shouldn't talk about things like that in front of them. You really should know better." With a final satisfied smile at Malfoy, Hermione turned her back on the boy and watched the professors check the remaining students.

When it came time to search Crabbe and Goyle, they made it nearly three steps toward Hogsmead before Aurors stunned them. Of course, Shacklebolt had known of the Markings as soon as Harry had seen them, so the Aurors knew exactly who to worry about. Parkinson, and later, Summers, succumbed to hysterics when they were approached. Nott looked to be making some attempt at dignity while the Ravenclaws simply looked resigned. No doubt they had given great thought to their homecoming and believed themselves safe.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, and eventually, Ginny, Neville and Luna, were gathered around the seven young Death Eaters while the last of the students were checked. To Harry's relief, it seemed there had been no more Markings since the one he had witnessed. Finally, Draco spoke, startling Harry. His voice was emotionless when he asked, "How did you know?"

Harry had been prepared for the question as soon as he had mentioned the sleeve to Hermione. "I'm not stupid, Malfoy. You may have underestimated my intelligence, but I wouldn't expect anything less from someone who'd follow that monster. Of course you were going to take the Mark. It was worth risking a detention to make sure, though."

He had not planned on saying anything more, but found himself staring at the seven. "I'm sure you all hate me. Some of you may even hate me for something other than being The-Boy-Who-Lived. Anyway, I know you probably don't care what I have to say, but I'm saying it anyway. If you want to get out, we can help you. Dumbledore can keep Voldemort from hurting you through the Mark. You just need to ask him, and he'll say yes. You know he will. And I don't know if you're allowed to read where you're going, but if you are, look up Tom Marvolo Riddle. It's an anagram, actually. You can ask your father about him, too, Malfoy, but I don't know if he'll tell you the truth. It's not hard to figure out, though. Check out his family tree, then take a look at when he disappears from all records."

"What are you getting at, Potter?" Malfoy asked, still masking all emotion.

"I just think you all should know who you're going to prison for. And who you're all so willing to die for."

Shacklebolt interrupted, but Harry had said what he wanted to, so they all watched in silence as he and the other Aurors surrounded the students and Apparated them off to trial and the surety of prison.

With a sigh, Harry turned and followed the rest of the school into the Great Hall. A battle had been won. Seven Death Eaters were off to Azkaban. The oldest of them was seventeen. Harry sighed again.

-----

After dinner, Snape caught Harry's eye as the students shuffled out of the Hall. The Potions Master pulled him into a shadowed corner and said, "Harry, I was going to tell you that I will be in my classroom preparing for class tomorrow if you cared to help. I can see that what happened today affected you, and as such, I will refrain from lecturing you about the foolishness of it as well as praising you for the cunningness. I think you do not need or want to hear either. At any rate, having observed the Slytherin table tonight, I think it best if you do not spend time in the dungeons alone. Indeed, it would be best if you avoid being alone outside of your common room. Those seven were not the only students loyal to the Dark Lord, as you know."

"I understand, Professor. And thank you for the offer, even if it can't be made. I would have taken you up on it, I think. But I should be in Gryffindor Tower tonight, I suppose. I want to ask everyone not to gloat about what happened. I don't think my friends will, but I'm sure people noticed that Gryffindor was the only house with a full table tonight. Nothing good will come from trying to shove that in the other houses' faces. I'll try to get my house to see that."

"I am happy to hear you say that, Harry."

Harry blushed at the praise, and tried to cover his embarrassment with a joke. "Plus, it's tradition that the First Years get to kiss the hem of Harry Potter's robe on the first night of school. And Ron says it's not fair if I'm not around and they have to find an old robe from my trunk. They feel left down if I'm not wearing it when they're genuflecting."

Snape's lip curled in that subtle display of amusement Harry had been expecting and said, "Go."