Better Than Life

Part 2: Life I

It was supposed to be over.

The war was supposed to be over years ago. Everybody agreed with that statement. Even the Daily Prophet ran a lead article on: The Never-Ending War. Populations on both sides of the divide were being decimated slowly. Even neutral parties didn't hold much faith in their ability to survive.

And Harry was beginning to regret his hasty decision at the end of his seventh year. He wondered if he fully comprehended the bloodiness of war back then, whether he should have taken Snape up on his offer of a treaty with Voldemort.

Letting out a long breath, Harry signed into the Ministry. "Harry Potter, Auror Division," he told the Guard and handed over his wand. The Guard took the wand and placed it in a verifier.

It beeped once and Harry was reminded of Muggle machines. Muggle items were finding their way into the wizarding world so quickly nowadays. Even some newly produced wizarding products seemed to have a Muggle tinge. Not that, Harry thought, a Non-Blotting Quill is a bad thing.

The Guard waved him through.

As Harry entered the Auror Division of the Ministry, he pressed his palm on the scanner by the door. Another Muggle invention, he thought with a slight mental grimace.

The Ministry nowadays was well known for being pro-Muggle. Or rather, more accurately speaking, pro-Muggle items. Harry wasn't sure which was worse in the eyes of some wizards. This change hadn't taken anybody by surprise but its extent had. It was predicted that the wizarding world and the Ministry itself would adjust (being progressive, it was called) once Arthur Weasley was in power, but nobody expected it would change so much. Or so quickly.

Harry wondered whether Arthur ever read the reports sent to him by the Auror Division on the rise of anti-Muggle sentiment brought about by the absorption of Muggle culture into the wizarding world. He suspected that they were read but ignored. Arthur always had far too much of a soft spot for Muggles.

When walking in Diagon Alley nowadays, Harry heard virulent anti-Muggle sentiment everywhere. Always whispered.

"They're destroying our culture. Maybe," hesitation, "maybe You-Know-Who had the right idea."

He also heard equally impassioned pro-Muggle arguments from people who were usually Muggle-born or halfbloods.

"The wizarding world was stagnating before Muggle culture was introduced. It was backwards. Muggle culture is revitalising this world!"

Everywhere Harry looked the wizarding world was being divided into two. This, he thought ironically, is exactly what Voldemort wants. Muggle-borns against purebloods with the halfbloods being torn between the two, wavering and never knowing where to stand.

"Harry!" Hannah Abbott exclaimed as she hurried over. She was one of about five in their year level who had had come to work for the Auror Division when they left Hogwarts. She handed Harry a piece of paper. "Another Muggle-born and their family was Obliviated last night."

Harry looked at the piece of paper with unseeing eyes.

"Harry?" Hannah sounded concerned. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'm fine." He walked towards his desk and sat down at it.

What is Voldemort doing? he wondered. In the past few years, Voldemort's actions had changed from making Muggle-borns simply 'disappear' to Obliviating them and their families. Harry had to admit that the latter policy was somewhat kinder but he wasn't sure by how much. Oblivation was permanent, especially when it was cast by a powerful enough witch or wizard. And these were, Harry thought grimly. It was as though Voldemort wanted to make sure Muggle-borns disappeared from the wizarding world and he was achieving it in a way that got a relatively large amount of public support from centrist witches and wizards.

He stared at the report.

The unfortunate wizard and his immediate family were now in St. Mungo's undergoing a de-wizardifying process. Exactly what Voldemort wants, Harry thought with a tinge of morbid humour. We're playing right into his hands. At this rate, soon there would be no Muggle-borns left in the wizarding world.

The prophecy was almost ridiculous now that he thought about it and he wasn't entirely sure that Trelawney wasn't simply hallucinating when she said it. It gave no provisions for what would happen if there was simply a stalemate. Voldemort didn't attack Harry and the Ministry simply couldn't find out where Voldemort was fast enough to launch their own attack.

Something needed to be done.

Harry simply wasn't sure what.

~

Snape wasn't enjoying his retirement away from the mysteries and intrigues of spy work as much as he thought he would. After spending most of his years spying, he found that living any other way was tiresome. Even six years after he had quit, Snape still couldn't bring himself to lower the level of the wards in his house, not even slightly. These current wards were a pain to put up but he felt secure within them.

It was a cool spring day when Snape felt somebody testing his wards. It had been quite a while since anybody had decided to visit him, friendly or otherwise, and Snape couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of alarm.

The alarm tripled as he felt the person slide through the wards like through a curtain of water, annoying but not in anyway impeding their movement. He withdrew his wand from his pocket and walked towards the breach in the ward with his back to the wall. As he neared the gap he could see a man standing there, not doing anything. His profile ooked familiar.

"Don't move," Snape said softly, lifting his wand and pointing it at the man. "Or I will curse you."

The man slowly spun around and Snape was surprised when he recognised the face. It was Harry Potter. Still eminently recognisable, despite the fact Snape hadn't been keeping up with wizarding affairs. There was something about the startling green eyes and messy black hair that Snape suspected would haunt him for the rest of his days. Still keeping his wand up, he asked, "What are you doing breaking and entering into my house, Potter?"

Potter stared at him. "You said that I could contact you."

Snape frowned and tried to remember words that were spoken over six years ago. "I believe," he finally said, his voice dry, "I said that you should consider the option over the next few months. I assumed that time period had passed."

Shifting slightly, Potter said. "Could you stop pointing that wand at me?"

Snape could tell that Potter was itching to grab his own wand. Auror training, he thought with a mental smirk. You would think that they'd train people to not show it when they're agitated. Slowly, he lowered his wand. "Perhaps we should take this discussion in my kitchen," he said, turning around and walking away. Behind him, he could hear Potter's hurried footsteps as he caught up and fell into step with him. Reaching the kitchen, Snape asked, "Would you like some tea?"

The surprise was visible in those bright green eyes. "Sure," Potter said, sounding nervous. "No milk, no sugar, cream."

"Tell me," Snape said as he put the kettle on the boil. He liked his tea the old-fashioned way, before heating spells were invented. "Whatever made you change your mind after six years of pursuing one policy?" He kept his tone deliberately casual, a skill he had perfected during his years of spying.

"It would be the six years of that one policy," Potter said grimly. "It's obviously not working if we're still here, fighting and being slowly wiped out." He stared around him and then outside the small window into the Scottish moorland. "Even here you must hear the rumours that we are losing our key support bases."

Slowly, Snape nodded. "I have heard rumours," he admitted. It was more than rumours actually, he thought wryly, but he wasn't going to tell Potter this. He had actually been contacted, several times, over the past four years about joining the New Movement. Apparently the Death Eaters and by proxy, Voldemort, had undergone a metamorphosis and were now something similar but subtly different to what they were before. He was careful to let none of his conflicting emotions show on his face. He had come very close to joining.

"Well they're not rumours," Potter said harshly, his mouth set in a thin line. "Our key support bases are being undermined every year. We can't afford to keep on fighting a drawn out war."

"Any luck in finding where the Dark Lord's key base is?"

Potter's eyes met his own and Snape couldn't help the small shiver that went down his spine. He kept his face impassive. "I can't help but notice," Potter said, "that you still call him by his title."

"Old habits die hard," Snape said, an edge in his voice as he put a dollop of cream into Potter's tea. He handed the small teacup to Potter.

Potter swirled his teaspoon in the tea before bringing it up and licking the cream off it. As Snape watched Potter lick the teaspoon, he gave himself a mental kick. "And the answer to your question is no," Potter said.

Snape gave a start before he realised that Potter hadn't suddenly developed the ability to read his mind. Not that he could anyway. Snape always Occluded his mind nowadays. "Why are you here then?" he asked, despite knowing what the answer would be.

Obviously Potter knew that because he looked surprised. "You need ask?" He gave a small wry grin. "I'm here to ask for the help you offered six years ago. I hope it's still available."

Probably more so now than six years ago, was Snape's first thought which he immediately blocked from being visible on his face. To be honest, he had found the past six years of doing little but occasional Potions work to be rather boring. Although his years of spying were rife with danger, Snape had to admit that he had never been bored. Crucio tended to make someone's life very interesting. "It depends on what sort of help is needed," he said carefully.

Potter paused and when his answer came, it was equally cryptic. "The exact same help you offered me when I ingested that potion."

It made Snape wonder whether the rumours of the Ministry watching the actions of its Aurors was correct or not. Apparently Arthur Weasley was far more scared of possible coups being hatched than Fudge ever was. But still, Snape frowned, it was unlikely that a listening spell would be attached to Harry Potter unless something had changed drastically in the years he'd been away.

He stared at Potter, at the still-bright green eyes, at the mouth with the cynical twist at the corner, and at the way Potter's hand seemed to hover around his wand. Should I, he wondered. Could this all be just an elaborate trick? Somehow, he doubted it as he lifted his wand.

Potter flinched but all Snape did was cast a silencing and blocking spell.

Well, he thought grimly, all was a bit of an understatement. He wondered whether Potter would recognise the spell.

Apparently he did. Potter's mouth tightened in astonishment. "You have kept up on your knowledge." His tone was neutral.

"No need to be coy, Potter," Snape said irritably. "I'm well aware it's a Dark Arts spell."

"Are you also aware that it's one of the few non-Unforgivable spells that carry a life sentence in Azkaban?" Potter inquired.

Snape hesitated before nodding. There was no point in lying. In fact, if Potter had been here to test his loyalty to the Ministry, Snape had no illusions that Ministry Aurors would be Apparating outside his cottage very soon. The mere fact he could hear no untoward noises, lent credibility to Potter's tale. He had to admit though, that he was very surprised that Potter was here. He never expected the boy - well, man now, he corrected himself - to take his advice once outside the influence of the potion. "Why have you come now?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Why not a few years ago?"

"The situation's worse now," Potter said. He let out a slow breath. "I've been trying to make them listen, but nobody seems to even hear me. If this war keeps on dragging on, we'll all be killed."

"You would be willing to have a truce with the Dark Lord?" Snape questioned. "Even though he killed your parents?"

"I would rather that than see our world destroyed," Potter snapped. "This is the only home I've known."

Snape nodded. He rather suspected it was something like that.

"Also," Potter continued, after a short hesitation, "it's only a number of years before the Muggles find out about us. History goes in cycles, after all."

Snape raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't have thought that Potter was a fervent student of history, wizarding or Muggle. But, he had to admit that he agreed. Muggles were increasingly being caught in the middle of fights between rival wizards. Collateral damage, it was called by the Daily Prophet. When Snape heard that term being applied to the death of over 2000 Muggles, he couldn't help laughing.

"You needn't look so surprised," Potter muttered. "I'm not stupid."

"I haven't called you that for a long time," Snape pointed out. "So now it is you who wants to save our world?"

Potter's mouth quirked to one side and Snape resisted the urge to smooth out the lines. "It sounds trite, doesn't it?" he said. "The Boy Who Lives wanting to save the wizarding world again."

"You are aware that if you go through with this, it won't be accepted by..."

"The majority of the wizarding world?" Potter interrupted.

Snape pursed his lips. He hated it when people interrupted him. He gave a brief nod. "Potter, never interrupt me again," he said. "It's rude."

Potter stared at him. "You don't have a monopoly on being rude."

Snape gave a mental sigh. "It was for your own good, Potter," he said. "You'll realise that sooner or later. Perhaps when you become mature enough." It's true, he told himself.

"Right," Potter said sceptically. "Your classes toughened me up so now I'm a better Auror because of it?" He gave a sharp little laugh.

Snape suppressed a slight shiver of recognition of his younger self in Potter's eyes. There was something about the stubborn set of his mouth, the slightly tense muscles, the darkened green eyes that suggested a man who was obsessed with control. And then that was gone and before him was simply the same Harry Potter he had seem in his class for seven years. It was as though the young man was wavering on the cusp of growing up, but wasn't sure where to go. Snape supposed that if he was a nicer person, more concerned with the welfare of others, that he would try to give some words of advice or support. Then he decided that was the job of other, nicer people. "Exactly," he said stiffly.

"Are you going to help me or not?" The dark look came into his eyes again.

Snape felt that he was probably going to regret the decision. "Yes," he said.

-

It would have been an understatement to say that Peter Pettigrew was surprised and scared when Severus Snape suddenly Apparated in front of him. Closer to reality would be to say that he was shocked and terrified. He had tried to contact Snape several times in the past few years at the Dark Lord's behest but to no avail. The older man - the traitor, Peter thought viciously to himself - had been virtually incommunicado for the past six years. Some of the lower ranks had managed to speak to the man but nobody from Snape's past had managed to get closer than an owl away. As Peter studied his old classmate, he could see tired lines around the other man's eyes, but the eyes themselves were as sharp as always.

"Peter Pettigrew," Snape said smoothly. "I thought I would find you here."

Peter felt a shiver slide through his body. Snape's voice was as smooth and as convincing as it had always been. "S-Snape," he said, hating the tremor in his voice. "How did you get here?"

One black eyebrow rose. "You are asking how I managed to find you here." Snape inquired, looking faintly amused. "Surely you didn't imagine I wouldn't follow the agents you sent over the years."

Actually, Peter didn't think that Snape would have. He assumed that Snape after years of not being in the spy business would have relaxed somewhat. Apparently not. He wouldn't put it past the man to have Apparated to several points across the world just to throw off possible trackers before coming here today.

"I must say," Snape continued, almost pleasantly, "that I was surprised to find that the Dark Lord had put you as his spymaster."

Why, Peter thought furiously. Because I was always a follower at Hogwarts? Grow up Snape, that time's passed.

"Then again," Snape said, with a glint in his dark eyes, "you were the best spy we ever had. The most notorious, certainly. The traitor."

Peter took slow, even breaths. "I would disagree, Severus," he said, pacing his words to get rid of the stutter. "You haven't been on our side for a very long time. Hence, it would seem to me that you were the best spy."

Snape let out a short laugh. "Clever, Pettigrew, very clever. It would seem that you've grown up at last. But I'm afraid I'm not here to play best spy."

"Well then," Peter said cuttingly. "What are you here for?" He decided to figure out how Snape had gotten here later. They had to fix the weakness he had obviously exploited, otherwise, who else might find it?

"I'm here as an agent of Harry Potter," Snape said, one corner of his mouth curled into an ironic smile.

Peter couldn't help staring. It sounded ridiculous. Besides, from what he knew, Snape used to - and most likely still did - hate Harry Potter. And even putting all that aside, Potter was still on the other side of the war and what business did he have to be sending anybody - much less than an agent - here to talk to Peter of all people. An unpleasant thought occurred to him. "Surely," he said with a sneer, "Potter isn't as naive as to be asking for our surrender." Peter didn't think he was, but he knew never to assume anything in a game like this.

"He is not asking for your surrender," Snape said calmly. "Harry Potter would like an audience with the Dark Lord in five days time on neutral ground. Wands clamped."

Peter gave an involuntary shiver at those words. "Clamped?" he repeated.

"Surely you do remember that Potter grew up with Muggles," Snape told him. "He doesn't know the implications of clamping to the normal wizard. Yet, surely you can take it as some measure of his sincerity."

There was nothing Peter could do but nod. Clamping a wizard's wand was very serious. It essentially meant that anybody within distance of throwing a spell would have their wand disabled by a pre-set spell in the area. There was no known method around the clamping spell and it was one easily detectable while outside the region marked. Briefly, Peter wondered whether Snape had discovered a method around the spell but then decided it was unlikely. "I will approach the Dark Lord with your offer," he said.

Snape nodded. He obviously knew that this was the way things went. "You know where to reach me," he said. "We would like an answer quickly." With a crack! he Apparated away, leaving Peter staring at the spot where he was.

Peter was inclined to believe that it was all in his mind except for the fact he could see the depressed stems of grass from where Snape stood. A part of him was angry that he obviously hadn't done his job thoroughly enough if Snape was so easily able to find him.

However, the other part of him was simply curious. He wondered what the meaning of the meeting on neutral ground would be. Peter let himself entertain a brief thought of Potter's surrender before he Apparated away himself.

-

"I'm intrigued," Voldemort said as Peter knelt before him and told him the news. "Wands clamped, you say?" His red eyes darkened.

Peter nodded.

"Well I suppose we'll have to agree to this meeting," Voldemort said. "Be sure to choose a place that can be surrounded by my Death Eaters. Potter will not be walking away from this, foolish boy."

-

"Avebury?" Snape said with a sneer as the owl came with the co-ordinates for Apparation a few minutes before the designated meeting time. "How lovely."

Harry was somewhat worried though. "Even with the clamping spell, it's his choice of meeting point. How do I know that he doesn't have Muggle versions of violence waiting for me?"

"That's not his style," Snape said simply. "He will listen to you, even if it is simply to satisfy his own curiosity. There is no guarantee of your safety afterwards though. If you don't want to go through this," he paused. "Harry, if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. There is still a chance that we can win this war against him."

Harry gave a start as he heard his given name used. "I refuse to let any more people die in this war," he said, determination filling his voice. "If anybody else dies, it'll be me."

"If you die, then all the Muggle-borns are doomed to being Obliviated," Snape said.

"It's better than them dying by fighting Death Eaters," Harry snapped. "Our most intelligent people are dying from curses. Our entire population, purebloods, halfbloods and Muggle-borns, is being decimated. This is the only way."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."

Harry opened his mouth and then realised that he did sound like that. "So what if I am?" he said quietly.

"I'm just asking whether you have the right to make the decision for the entire wizarding world?"

"It was your suggestion," Harry snapped, getting irritated. He clenched his fists. "I would have never thought of it if you hadn't suggested it."

"That may be," Snape conceded. "Nevertheless, think of the ramifications of your actions before you continue." There was a strange note in his voice. Harry could have sworn it sounded like a warning.

Harry gave a curt nod. "Our current policy isn't working. I've seen the results of it first-hand. We need to do something else and if the Ministry isn't able to do it, I will." He set his lips in a thin line.

Snape gave a shrug. "Well, after you then," he indicated.

Harry Disapparated with his eyes closed tightly.

He felt the strange shiver that flickered through his body, almost as if all his atoms were rearranged, which, Harry thought, was precisely what happened. As he opened his eyes, he could see that he was standing in a clearing with towering pieces of rock around them. He could see a small Muggle village in the distance and sheep milling around the rocks. About ten metres away, in the fast dimming twilight, he could see a tall figure who was staring away from Harry. As he watched, the figure turned around and Harry caught a glimpse of red eyes. A shiver ran down Harry's spine. This certainly wouldn't have been his ideal choice of location but it suited Voldemort. In front of him, he could see a full moon, casting dark shadows among the rocks and trees.

He felt the air shift behind him and turning slightly, Harry saw Snape standing there. Somehow knowing that Snape was there helped him slightly.

"Mister Potter."

Harry fought to keep his breathing even as he heard the words. Voldemort's tone was low, his tone sibilant and every syllable slightly hissed. "Voldemort," he said, proud of his even tone.

"I see Severus has seen it fit to accompany you," Voldemort said as he walked forward into the semi-light of the clearing. Harry noted the changes since he had last seen him. There was the obvious magical shimmer of a glamour, but even the glamour couldn't disguise those eyes. He looked around. "Isn't it pathetic how the Muggles have chosen to destroy such a beautiful place? This was once an ancient druid circle. Muggles pulled it down to build their houses."

Harry ignored his attempt at conversation. After all, they weren't there to discuss druid circles. "The clamping spell is in position?" he asked, despite the fact he could feel it. Just moving in this clearing made him feel slightly nauseous. It was like moving through thick air."

Voldemort laughed sharply. "Mister Potter, surely you can tell whether the spell is up or not." He beckoned slightly and out of the shadows on the edge of the clearing, Harry saw a familiar, rotund figure walk towards them. He squinted and paled. "Surely you know Wormtail. He was friends with your parents, I believe."

Harry clenched his hands into fists. "It's nice to see you again," he said through gritted teeth. He hadn't seen this traitor since the last full scale battle, more than four years ago, but his feelings about the little rat hadn't changed one iota. From the lack of surprise on Snape's face, Harry surmised that the other man knew that Pettigrew would be here. This knowledge made Harry surprisingly angry, as Snape hadn't told him.

"Now," Voldemort said smoothly, "perhaps you care to tell us why we are all gathered here?"

Harry took a deep breath and hoped that this wasn't the dumbest idea he had ever come up with. "This war is ruining the wizarding world," he began.

Voldemort stared at him, mild surprise in the red eyes. "I agree, Mister Potter," he said. "That is nothing new."

That was good news, Harry thought. "If the war goes on, our world will be destroyed." He swallowed, hating the fact that it was heard clearly in the silence. This wasn't his job, he thought furiously. He was an Auror. He wasn't a diplomat. He wasn't trained to deal with these matters. "I'm here to offer you a truce. A deal."

Harry heard a slight snort come from Pettigrew which was immediately silenced as Voldemort turned his head. As he studied Voldemort's face, he could tell that he was thinking. "Mister Potter, this is an interesting thought. Not to disparage your intelligence, but am I right to say that this is Severus's idea?"

"I'm afraid," Snape said equally smoothly as Harry hesitated, "that is irrelevant. We are here to offer you a truce. Whose idea it was is beside the point."

"What gives you that right?" Voldemort asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Harry was somewhat puzzled. So far, Voldemort sounded almost sane, almost normal. He sounded nothing like the thing that emerged from the cauldron in his fourth year. Nothing like the person who taunted him in his fifth year.

Voldemort had obviously noticed his frown because he said dryly, "Despite what you may have been told or what you thought you saw, I am not insane, Mister Potter. Tell me, could an insane man stand against the incompetents at the Ministry for so many years?"

Harry kept an impassive face. "We have the right to enforce this deal," he said.

"Unlikely," Pettigrew cut in. "I have contacts within the Auror Division. You are on unofficial leave, which means you left without warning." He gave a nasty little smile. "I suspect that this is an unofficial offering of truce. How do you plan on upholding it?"

"Leave the details to us," Snape said.

But Harry began to wonder exactly how they were going to uphold the truce. Surely... he bit his tongue. Surely he was a complete idiot for not thinking of it before. What was Snape suggesting? A coup of the Ministry? It wouldn't be particularly hard. Arthur Weasley wasn't much better than Fudge for all that he loved playing with his Muggle toys. But the man was his friend and from what Harry knew of coups, they tended not to be bloodless.

Voldemort gave a delighted-sounding laugh. "Well, well, it seems Mister Potter here also enjoys power. Perhaps you envisage a country ruled by both of us?"

Harry kept his breathing even. "That is all irrelevant right now," he said tightly. "We cannot let this killing continue. Do you enjoy seeing your Death Eaters die? I do not enjoy seeing my compatriots or civilians die in the name of a nebulous cause. You say that the Muggles are a threat. What if they find out about us now? We're splintered and if they found out and attacked, we'd be lost."

To his surprise, Snape looked at him with what seemed to be an admiring expression. Even Voldemort's expression seemed thoughtful. Or, Harry thought, as thoughtful as red eyes can be in a person. "You make a good point, Mister Potter. You should have tried for Minister."

Harry gave a tight smile. "And give you a chance to assassinate me? I would rather not."

"And what would be the conditions of the truce," Voldemort asked.

Pettigrew turned in surprise. "You are considering this in earnest?" he asked.

Harry was surprised when Voldemort didn't immediately turn and cast an Unforgivable on the man. Instead, Voldemort simply gave a sharp nod. "It is an idea that has crossed my mind as well."

Snape shifted in what was obvious surprise.

"The conditions," Harry began, "are that all harming of Muggle-borns, Muggles and half-bloods must stop immediately. This includes forcibly Obliviating them. In return, all Muggle families who produce a Magical child will be forced to sign a blood oath to keep it a secret." He had discussed this with Snape last night and both of them had found that it was fair. Blood oaths were serious spells, but so was the possible revealing of the wizarding world. "Muggle-borns and half-bloods will be given the same rights as purebloods in our world. However, in exchange, the introduction of Muggle culture will be halted immediately pending further notice. Any further introduction of Muggle items will be reviewed by the Wizengamot."

He was surprised to see Voldemort nodding. "Fairly reasonable requests."

"My lord," Pettigrew said, obviously distressed. "This will erode our support base."

"It will," Snape said sharply, "unify the wizarding world like it has never been unified before. We will be one. All with magic will be the same. And we will be free of Muggle taint."

Harry was uncomfortable with the last words and shifted slightly on his feet. In fact, there was something uncomfortable about the whole proceedings. He finally decided that it was because he felt as though he was giving up on his morals. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but agree with Snape's views that Muggles were changing the wizarding world. He may not use the word taint, but they were certainly affecting the wizarding world, and not always for the better.

"If agreed," Voldemort said, "how would you plan on announcing it to the wizarding world in general?"

"My lord," Pettigrew interrupted in an insistent voice, "surely they only ask because they know that their support base is being eroded."

"Perhaps," Harry said mildly. "But you would hate to be wrong about that, wouldn't you? Besides, even if you win a long, bloody and drawn-out war, what would be the point of ruling over a decimated population?" He looked over at Voldemort. "There is a re-affirmation vow next week for the Minister. That would be the perfect place to announce a truce. I am supposed to give a speech on the state of the war."

"Your offer of a truce is intriguing," Voldemort finally said after a long silence. His red eyes almost glowed in the moonlight. "For the good of the wizarding world, I accept. On one condition only."

Harry held his breath. "What might that condition be?"

"That all here today sign blood oaths," Voldemort said. "There cannot be a breaking of this truce, don't you agree?"

Harry felt something settle in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't thinking of breaking the truce, but a blood oath? People who broke a blood oath died as the blood boiled in their very veins. He stared up at Snape who nodded. "Agreed," he said, wishing his voice sounded firmer and less scared.

Pettigrew looked aghast, but obviously didn't want to challenge his Lord three times in one meeting.

Harry thought of something. "What about my scar?" he asked.

"Simple," Voldemort told him. "This is a truce, Potter. We agree not to attack each other in all ways."

"How would we sign a blood oath with the spell up?" Harry suddenly realised.

Voldemort looked amused and waved his hand suddenly. As Harry watched, dark figures came around the shadowed trees and rocks, into the clearing, all cloaked and masked. He felt a lump in his throat. These were obviously Death Eaters. Snape tensed beside him.

"I do not break my word, Potter," Voldemort said sharply as one of the Death Eaters walked up to him and handed him a piece of paper.

Harry took the piece of paper gingerly and saw that it was a blood oath contract. He skimmed it.

"My Death Eaters drew it up outside the spell once they heard the agreement," Voldemort told him. "I trust it is accurate."

Harry nodded. There was not even a chance of an invisibility spell being cast on a secret clause because blood oaths only affected what the people who signed it could see. It was designed that way because blood oaths were such powerful spells. "It is," he said simply.

Snape withdrew from his robes a small silver-handled knife and a dry quill and Harry stared at him. "You came prepared?"

"I suspected," was Snape's only response.

Harry took the knife and taking a deep breath, cut a small incision into his index finger of his left hand. The cut whitened slightly before welling up with blood. Carefully, he placed the piece of paper on the ground before kneeling down beside it and dipping the quill in his bleeding finger. Using his blood, Harry signed his name.

He then stood up, wiped his finger on his robes and watched as one by one the others did the same. Snape supplied them each with new quills for blood oaths could be tainted by more than one person's blood.

Then finally, he could see the contract lying on the ground, with four signatures, gleaming with blood. "What about them," Harry asked, a thought suddenly occurring to him. He waved an arm to indicate the Death Eaters.

"Are you planning to make the entire Ministry sign?" Voldemort asked. When Harry shook his head, Voldemort continued, "Others may still disagree and we will not be breaking the oath. So long as we take no action to harm the other. Or change the conditions of the truce without consulting the other."

Harry couldn't help but feel that he had made a grievous and utterly stupid error, but at the same time, he realised that the war was finally over.

-

Later that evening, as both Snape and Harry Apparated back to Snape's small moorland cottage, Harry turned to Snape. "What do you feel?" he asked.

Snape obviously knew what he was talking about for he answered, "Relieved, mostly, but somewhat alarmed still."

"I know what you mean," Harry admitted. "That was almost too easy."

"He can't be planning anything," Snape said, but his voice sounded strange to Harry. "He signed the blood oath."

Harry stared up at the older man, into his eyes and couldn't read them. Snape's eyes were darkened and glittered with some indefinable emotion. Harry felt uncomfortable all of a sudden and realised that they were standing far too close together. But then to move backwards would be to acknowledge discomfort and feel awkward as well. He couldn't help but give a tiny shiver as a tingle ran through him.

"Perhaps you ought to go, Potter," Snape said, breaking the silence.

Harry nodded. "I think I should," he said. And then, impulsively, he stood on his toes and kissed Snape on the cheek. "Thank you," he said sincerely. The kiss, just a peck on the cheek really, gave him a warm feeling in his belly. It felt comfortable to be brushing his lips against the day old stubble on Snape's face.

"You're welcome." When Snape answered his voice was abnormally tight.

-

After Harry had Apparated away, Snape couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.