Unforgivable Promises

Unforgivable Promises

Chapter 20

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Harry did not have much opportunity to dwell on Draco's death the following week. Both Hermione and Professor Flitwick had made some progress tracking down more of the spells used in the Markings. So far, however, nothing particularly surprising or useful had been discovered. One of Flitwick's discoveries was a spell that allowed the caster to feel physical sensations as the target felt them, but Harry's ability to feed spells back to Voldemort had all but proved that theory previously. Still, knowing which spell caused the effect was progress. The group still lacked the most important piece, though: the spell that bound the target to Voldemort and allowed the spells to act as a single unit. Nothing they had come across thus far explained why the Dark Mark was more than the sum of its parts.

In addition to the spell research, Harry and his friends had begun combat training once more. Neville volunteered to help Luna catch up to the group, and everyone agreed. During the summer, his tutoring of Ginny had helped him as much as it had helped the younger girl. It was decided that three nights a week and afternoons on Sunday would be spent with Professors Snape and Jones. Harry had noticed in the first week that his own training tended to focus on offense while his friends received more instruction from Jones on defense. Specifically, Jones taught them how to defend someone else while keeping themselves alive as well. Though no one said anything directly, Harry understood who the 'someone else' was meant to be.

After the first Sunday afternoon lesson had finished, Jones dismissed everyone and Snape called for Harry to remain. The man led the way silently to his office and waved Harry inside. As they entered, a House Elf appeared with tea, which she promptly set on the desk before disappearing again. Snape sat down and helped himself to a cup of tea, casting a disapproving look at Harry when he came across the small creamer, which he shoved toward Harry.

After a moment, Snape said, "I don't imagine I need to tell you that the Headmaster was quite disturbed when he discovered young Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts in secret." Harry sighed into his tea. "There is nothing about that night that isn't unfortunate," Snape continued. His voice had lost its businesslike edge. "And the most important parts cannot be undone. But still, we must take steps to fix what can be mended. Specifically, the passages that lead to and from the castle must be warded. All but one will be rendered unuseable. The one remaining will be warded to prevent the passage of anyone but a select few."

"I assume I'll be one of the ones who can use it, then," Harry said, once again reminded that his safety was placed above everyone else's.

"I imagine, yes. But that is neither here nor there. The passages will be dealt with tonight after dinner. You will be assisting in the casting of the wards."

Harry blinked. "You want me to help?"

Snape gazed at him. "Some members of the Order do, yes. Be prepared to use the wand I supplied you. Ollivander's wands are not as well suited to the group-work that will be done tonight. Which students know of the passages on your map?"

"Just my friends. The ones who were with me when you brought Luna back. Fred and George Weasley know of them, too. They're not students anymore, though."

Snape nodded. "They will be informed not to attempt any mischief through them, then. And you will relay the same to your friends. It is quite likely that in addition to wards and barriers, we will be setting trap-spells as well. They will not wish to be caught in them." Harry agreed. "Now, Mr. Potter, I must stress the seriousness of this undertaking. First and foremost, the workings tonight will involve several of the most powerful wizards in the order. You will behave in a mature manner at all times; you will not pester anyone with questions, or, for that matter, unasked-for advice. You will do only what you are told to do, nothing more, nothing less. Is that clear?"

Harry squirmed under Snape's glare, taken back to previous years and myriad lectures. "Yes, sir. I understand."

"Then we are done for now." Harry set his teacup down and stood. "Ah, yes, you will also need to bring Lupin's wand with you. You still have it, I presume?"

Harry beamed. "Yes, I do. I'd forgotten about it, though. Is he going to be here to collect it, then?"

"I have no idea. I am simply relaying a message."

Hopeful, Harry thanked Snape for the tea and headed back to the Tower.

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After dinner, Harry met the Headmaster, McGonagall, Flitwick, Jones and Snape in the Great Hall. Presently, they were joined by Shacklebolt and Remus. Harry lunged as his father's friend and pulled him into a hug. "Are you okay, Remus?"

With a laugh, the other man hugged Harry back. "I'm fine, Harry. Really. I'm still not sure what they did to me, but I woke up tied to a chair. Good thing Death Eaters don't know enough to use chains." He gave Harry a wink. "As a matter of fact, next month I may go out looking for the two who got away from me."

"You'll need this, then," Harry said and pulled the man's wand from his pocket. "I, uh, guess you heard about how I got it."

The group started out of the Hall and Remus nodded. They were following a few feet behind the rest, and Remus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You know, if you ever need to talk about it . . ."

"Everyone keeps saying that to me. I really don't want to talk about it at all. But thank you."

"Are you sure? I know it may not feel like it, but just holding everything inside isn't healthy."

"I know. I did talk a little to Snape about it. I wouldn't say I'm okay with what happened, but I guess I said what I needed to say. And I suppose I heard what I needed to hear, too."

Harry caught Remus's surprised look when he mentioned having spoken to Snape. The older man remained silent as they took a turn toward the dungeons. With Remus lost in thought, Harry spotted Professor McGonagall slowing her steps to come even with Harry.

"Harry, before we begin, I wish to have a word. I hope this is unnecessary, but I would not be doing my duty as your teacher if I did not speak to you. We are on very serious business tonight. And in the past you have shown a distressing willingness to ignore the rules-"

"If I may, Professor," Harry said, hoping his polite manner would unbalance his teacher. "Professor Snape has already made the gravity of the situation very clear."

"Ah, well, very good then. He was quite adamant that you could handle this responsibility, and I feared he may have neglected to speak to you of the importance of focusing on the task."

Harry grinned and held onto that piece of information for later. "I don't think he'd ever forget to tell me to behave myself."

"Yes, well, that is true, I suppose. Professor Snape is nothing if not dedicated." Harry suspected a note of humor in McGonagall's voice as the group stopped before a blank wall. They were in the dungeon, though Harry had no idea exactly where.

"The passage here," Dumbledore said to Shacklebolt, "was often used by Severus when slipping away to meetings. The Dark Lord knows of its existence. I have detected nothing untoward within it, but I suspect that if any of the tunnels will present a hazard tonight, it will be this one. I chose it first so we may be at full strength should we find anything unexpected." The auror nodded at the headmaster and stood at the far wall. Snape stood beside him, wand at the ready, and Dumbledore stepped in front of the pair. If anything was lurking, it would meet the headmaster first. The rest of the group held their wands at attention but moved back down the hallway.

Dumbledore tapped a series of stones in rapid succession. Had Harry been trying to learn the sequence, he would certainly have failed as the man moved too quickly. Much like the bricks behind the Leaky Cauldron, the stones shifted to reveal a simple doorway. Silence and darkness greeted them, and the elderly wizard sent a ball of light down the tunnel. Satisfied that there was nothing to fear, Dumbledore smiled at the group and stepped inside.

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Six hours later, Harry was exhausted, his magical energy nearly spent and his concentration stretched to breaking. The dungeon passage had required little real work. Where it had passed through solid stone, the wizards had shifted the rock to flow into the shaft, blocking it in several different locations. Spells to dampen magic were overlain with alarm spells that would alert all the wizards, Harry included, if the blockades were tampered with.

The passage beneath the Whomping Willow had been harder to deal with. As the tunnel did not pass through solid stone, manipulation of the earth around it could have resulted in a collapse, endangering any students that walked above. As there was no guarantee that any such fall-in would be that night rather than during the day when people were above, they opted for purely magical barriers. Here, Harry participated in some very high level group castings. Each wizard poured their energy into the barrier spell, creating a single spell more powerful than any one wizard could produce. A series of such shields, again layered with alarm spells and protected by charms that drained and hindered magic use in the area, guaranteed that even a team of Death Eaters working in the cramped tunnel would require hours, if not days, to pass from the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow. And should they succeed, McGonagall left a surprise for them with a quick spell. Nothing would be able to get high enough in its branches to touch the knot that calmed the tree now that it had been moved.

The most work, though, went into the passage Snape had used to return with Luna. As none of the Death Eaters had seen Snape or Harry using it, it remained a secret. The Headmaster was not willing to trust entirely in that, but also wished to retain a final escape route for the students should the school's wards fail. The group entered the candy store's basement and bombarded the trap door with concealing charms. Flitwick added a complicated password spell just as the wizards moved into the passage. Everyone present chose their own password. The wards would alert the Headmaster whenever the door was opened; the unique passwords allowed him to know who was entering. From inside the tunnel, however, the trapdoor could be pushed open normally. Harry had been surprised when Flitwick asked him to come up with a password of his own, but as no one objected, he opted for "Prongs".

Remus commented on his choice as everyone made their way back to the school. "Well," Harry said, "Prongs is my Patronus. And if I ever need to use that trapdoor, I'll likely be in a bit of trouble."

"A good choice," Remus said.

As they entered the great hall and made to part ways, Harry asked, "What about the other passages? The map I have shows more."

"They were all taken care of some time ago. The rest were more widely known, which I'm guessing is why you preferred the one to Honeydukes," Remus said.

Harry grinned. "The twins told me Filch knew them, so I never bothered with them."

"They were all blocked, both magically and physically. If there are any passages into the school that we haven't secured, Dumbledore himself doesn't know about them."

Satisfied, Harry made his way sluggishly back to his bed.

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Harry shuffled into breakfast the next morning, yawning widely enough to suck in an owl, and sat down next to Hermione. Across the table, Ron asked how the night had gone, and Harry glanced around at who was in earshot before answering.

"Went fine. No unscheduled trips to Hogsmeade anymore, though. And where's Neville?" Harry felt a twinge of worry. He had been the last to wake up and knew the boy was not in Gryffindor Tower. His fear did not last long, however, when Snape stormed into the room followed by a terrified looking Neville. The Potions Master swept to the head table and Neville nearly fell into the seat next to Ron.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked.

Neville seemed to be regaining his composure when he answered. "I had to levitate one of the seventh year Slytherins to the infirmary. Luna's up there too, but she's okay, I guess."

"Luna?" Ron asked. "What happened?"

"Well," Neville said, twisting his napkin nervously, "I was in the hall outside, talking to her. She was asking me about some of the spells we went over last night. I turned around to come in here, and I heard her fall. Pucey hit her with some kind of curse. I'm not sure what it was, but he was laughing at her. She hit her head. There was blood in her hair. It was like that day when Snape came back with her." Harry shuddered, recalling how her hair had been stuck to her face with dried blood.

Ron, red-faced, jumped from the table. Hermione stood and leaned over the food to grab his wrist. "Ron, you can't! Do you know how much trouble you'd get in? Besides, he's not here, right?" She directed the last at Neville, who confirmed it. Ron, still furious, sat back down.

"He's in the infirmary now, yeah," Neville said, watching Ron carefully. "I was so mad when I saw it. I don't remember going for my wand . . ."

"You hexed him?" Ginny asked, clearly impressed.

Neville nodded shyly and said, "Expelliarmus. Knocked over the suit of armor out in the hall, too."

"That armor's spelled not to fall over. I saw Fred and George climbing on it once!" Hermione said.

"Well, yeah, I saw them doing that too." Neville was still twisting his napkin. "But I guess if you hit it hard enough . . ."

"Wait," Ron said. "Your spell hit the armor, or Pucey did?"

"Pucey," Neville answered.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "Didn't know you had it in you, mate." He thumped Neville on the back. "Sent him up to Pomfrey, then? Well done."

After a full round of congratulations, Harry asked, "What happened with Snape? He caught you?" Neville nodded. "Detention?"

Neville blinked in surprise. "Well, no." He spoke as if the idea had not even crossed his mind before this. "I didn't even think of that. He walked Luna to the infirmary and told me to levitate Pucey and follow them. Even left the armor there on the floor, and boy was it mad! And he told Madame Pomfrey to have the guy pick up the suit of armor. And that he had detention with Filch for using magic in the halls."

"He didn't say anything else?" Ron asked.

"No. Not to me. Maybe he didn't know I cast anything."

"Maybe," Ron said, though he clearly was not convinced. Harry had his own theory, but kept quiet. He did flash the Potions Master a quick grin before going off to class, though, earning him yet another raised eyebrow.

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Harry hung back after potions again, waiting for his classmates to leave before confronting the professor. "Ha!" he said, pointing a finger at the man. "I've caught you doing two nice things in as many days. Admit it."

Snape crossed his arms and leaned casually against his desk. "I admit to nothing. If you are looking for someone nice, I suggest you try the Transfiguration or Charms classrooms. There is no one matching that description here."

Harry snorted. "Then how do you explain giving detention to that Slytherin but not to Neville?"

"Are you saying, Mr. Potter, that your friend was engaged in illicit activities this morning? To the best of my knowledge, Mr. Pucey, clumsy oaf that he is, fell into a suit of armor after attacking Miss Lovegood. Mr. Longbottom was an innocent bystander. That is merely my understanding of it, of course. Have I made any mistaken assumptions you would like to disabuse me of?" Snape smirked at Harry, who scowled in return. Trapped.

"What about last night?" Harry asked. "You told me that some members of the Order wanted me to help last night. Whereas it was you who was quite adamant that I should be involved. Those are the words Professor McGonagall used: 'quite adamant'."

"Do you even know what 'adamant' means?" Snape replied cooly.

"I looked it up. It means 'displaying the qualities of Professor Snape when saying something nice about Harry Potter.'" That one got a twitch of Snape's lip. He was cracking.

"Nonsense." Snape muttered. "Regardless, I suggested that your power may be useful. I have never denied you are powerful. Your skills at controlling that power, however, are barely adequate to rival a garden gnome's. You are fuel. Kindling, if you will. Your greatest aid is given when you are being tapped for energy like a muggle battery. I concede, however, that under any other circumstances you have no aid to provide whatsoever. Students such as yourself must take what pity is offered to you, after all; therefore, you may count that as a compliment, as it is unlikely you will ever see praise more glowing."

Harry let out a laugh and gave a mock bow. "Impressive, Professor. We'll call this one a draw. I know you're nice, but you sure did a good job hiding it this time."

"I have nothing to hide. You are simply misguided."

"Well, look at the teacher I spend the most time with. How can I help but be misguided?"

"One should not say such things about Professor Binns," Snape said.

"True," Harry replied. "Luckily, one did not say such things about him at all." He remembered the other reason he had for remaining and asked, "Was Pucey getting revenge?"

"Unlikely," Snape said. "I am not certain that he was not acting on the Dark Lord's orders, but in seven years, I have determined that Pucey is an ass but not a Death Eater. I will speak to him during his detention to be sure, though. In the meantime, you and your friends should continue to be wary."

Harry assured the man that they would and made a mental note to ask about making sure Luna was not alone in the halls. The Gryffindors could protect themselves easily enough, and he trusted his house mates to watch out for her and Ginny when they were in classes together, but that still left a lot of time when Luna could be vulnerable.

"And Harry, please tell Mr. Longbottom that Professor McGonagall will be awarding twenty points for his control of the Mobilicorpus spell."

"Does Professor McGonagall know she'll be awarding those points yet?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"Not yet, though I am sure when she hears the details, she will do so. Naturally, I find it foolish to reward basic competence, but your Head of House, I must say, shows shameless favoritism in regards to such things."

"Yes, well, it's a good thing not all Heads do that, isn't it? Good day, Professor, and thank you again for your kindness." Harry grinned and headed to the door.

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Before dinner, Harry decided that his own discomfort would have to take second place to his friend's safety. Cornering Terry Boot outside the Great Hall, Harry traded on his fame to convince Luna's House mates to keep an eye out for her. "She's a good friend of mine," Harry had told Boot. "I don't really know any other Ravenclaws her year, so I was hoping you could pass on a message. I'd consider it a personal favor if she didn't have to be alone in the halls."

Boot agreed immediately. "We'll do our best. We do try to look out for her, you know, but I think a lot of the Fifth Years are uncomfortable around her. And she likes to wander around the school at odd times. I can't promise she'll never be alone, but we'll make sure she's got someone to walk with between classes and meals."

"That's great," Harry said. "I really appreciate it. I'll talk to her about her wandering, too."

"Hey, can I ask you something? I've heard some rumors about Chambers and Brocklehurst."

Harry stiffened up at the mention of the Ravenclaw Death Eaters. There had been little mention of them since their capture, at least that Harry had heard, but he assumed that within the other three Houses things were not so silent. "I'll answer if I can."

"Well, I'm sure there are people who know more than I do, but since I was in the DA, I'm probably not hearing all the rumors, if you know what I mean. I heard they were looking for genealogical charts." Boot looked uneasy, but continued. "Actually, they've asked a few people to find out something, but I don't know what. I don't want to get anyone else in trouble, you know? But if something's going on that involves You-Know-Who . . ."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, something's going on, but it's not going to help Voldemort. His real name was Tom Riddle, and his father was a muggle."

Boot laughed out loud at that. "So all those Purebloods are following a half-breed? That's the height of irony, isn't it? And you told Chambers and Brocklehurst that?"

"Not directly, no. I just told them to look up Tom Riddle. I'm sure he'll disappear from the records right about when Voldemort shows up. They'll figure it out, but I didn't think they'd believe me if I told them."

"A Ravenclaw can't resist a puzzle, you know. I wonder how they'll take it."

"Poorly, I hope," Harry said. "Poorly enough to realize they're making a mistake following him, at least. Lucius Malfoy knows the truth, but I doubt many others do."

Boot agreed, then cocked his head. "I just realized something. You told the Gryffindors not to make a big deal about the arrests, didn't you?"

"Me and Ron, yeah. More Ron, actually. We didn't think it would help things."

"That was a good idea," Boot said. "It was rough that first night in the dorm. I think we all expected to have to put up with a lot of grief from you guys. I mean, no offense, but some of you Gryffindors can be really self-righteous."

"I know. We're not all like that, though. And to be honest, there's no guarantee that we don't have some Voldemort supporters in our house too. But I heard that Draco Malfoy suggested the other seven for Marking. There was no way he was going to name a Gryffindor as worthy." That was not quite a lie, he told himself. He could not very well divulge how he knew what Malfoy had done.

Boot nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. You're being careful, right? And you know if you need any help, you've got me and Michael and plenty of others who'll be there."

Harry assured him that he was looking after himself and thanked him before the two headed to their respective tables.

On the Gryffindor side of the Hall, Harry described his conversation. Neville looked relieved that Luna's safety was being considered and wondered aloud if anything would come of the Ravenclaws' investigation into Riddle's background. The elder Malfoy's part in it was not overlooked.

"I wonder if Voldemort even knows everything that happened with Harry and Ginny," Hermione said.

"I don't think so," Harry said. "Malfoy may not have told him at all, actually. Voldemort said something to him about not doing enough to try to get him alive again the night Cedric was killed. Seems to me Malfoy wasn't expecting to see him again."

"So maybe he doesn't know Malfoy gave away his secret," Ginny added. "I wonder what would happen if he found out."

"I was wondering the same thing," Harry said. "I'll wait to see what happens with the Ravenclaw Death Eaters. Then I'll find a way to let Voldemort know that Malfoy was using his diary for personal revenge."

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News of Neville's heroics, and Snape's less-than-typical reaction quickly spread through Gryffindor. In the common room that night, Dean Thomas commented on the noticeable change in the Potions Master's demeanor.

"I think he and Professor Jones are spending some quality time together, if you know what I mean. I've always said the git would loosen up if he'd just get laid."

"Dean!" Hermione shrieked.

"Well, I'm sorry, Hermione, but it's true. And something has him, well, not quite happy, but less awful. He's even treating Harry like a human for a change."

"Leave me out of this," Harry said amiably. "I don't want to know what's going on with him and Professor Jones." Might as well have some fun with the rumors, Harry thought. "And he's been nicer to me since this summer. Dumbledore had him giving me some extra lessons, and we sort of came to an understanding."

"He understands he's been an ass? Sorry Hermione." Dean tossed in the apology as an afterthought. Harry laughed.

"Something like that. Anyway, he doesn't hate me any more than he hates everyone else, now."

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That evening, as he finished up an essay for Charms, Harry's thoughts turned to the Potions Master and the strange, painful, journey their relationship had taken. Snape would know if Malfoy told Voldemort about the diary, he thought. Everyone in his dorm was asleep, but he suspected the professor kept late hours. He reached for his invisibility cloak, then reconsidered. It seemed rather silly to run down the dungeons to ask something so trivial. It could wait until tomorrow. He set his cloak down and rubbed his palm. His hand had become cramped while writing. He'll have a potion for that, I bet. Armed with what had suddenly become a medical necessity, Harry swept his cloak about him and descended to the dungeon.

He found the stone Snape had mentioned previously and tapped it with his hand. After a moment, the wall shimmered and disappeared. Snape stood blocking the doorway; he glanced around the hallway, then stepped aside. "Come in, Mr. Potter, and tell me what brings you out of your dorm after curfew."

The man's voice sounded tired, far more tired than a night's sleep could cure. Harry removed his cloak and said, "I just came down to see if you had something for a cramp in my hand, but if something's wrong . . ."

"I have nothing for that; I imagine Madame Pomfrey does, however, if you are in dire need."

"Okay," Harry trailed off, then asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Merely a disappointment. Kletch, one of the spies I recruited recently, has been killed. It would seem his connection to me was discovered." His voice was calm and cool as always, but Harry suspected it was an act. He knew how he would feel if someone he had approached had been killed for talking to him. Certainly the Potions Master must feel something. Still, he had no idea what to say that could help. And he doubted any words would help, anyway.

"Oh," he said, feeling foolish. Snape seemed to be waiting for some reaction from Harry. "Is the potion simple to make? Maybe I can brew it. If you don't mind, of course." Harry noticed the other man relax slightly at the request.

"I have work to attend to, but you may use my workroom in the back. All the necessary ingredients should be there." Snape took a book from one of the cases and led Harry into a simple potions lab. Three walls held long counters, and several cauldrons were already in use. Snape indicated a free spot in the corner, set the book open to the appropriate page, and said, "I trust you will manage on your own, but I will answer whatever questions you have."

"Thank you," Harry replied. After Draco's death, Snape had shown more understanding by not speaking than anyone else had when trying to convince Harry to talk about it. Perhaps he could provide the same comfort in return. Neither spoke for well over an hour, Harry working on his potion, Snape working on his own eight brews.