Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin

Voldemort stood over Pettigrew's lifeless form, surveying it coldly. "Tsk, tsk," he muttered. "Two servants in one night--you lot are turning out to be a nuisance, aren't you? Well, Wormtail," he said. First he nudged Pettigrew's body with his boot; then he kicked Pettigrew over so that he lay on his back, staring blankly into space.

"Well done, after all. You did prove useful to me, even in death." Voldemort paused. "Especially in death."

Voldemort glanced at Professor Green who, looking very pale indeed, still pointed her wand back at him.

"Very interesting," he said, slowly. "Some sort of Auror trick, I presume?"

Suddenly Harry realized what must have happened when he had stabbed her. "Was that the Healing Dagger?" he blurted.

Professor Green nodded weakly at Harry, still training her wand on Voldemort. Slowly a hateful, comprehending smile spread across his face. "Ah, yes. A Healing Dagger. I might have known."

Then, apparently completely undisturbed at having four wands trained on him at once, Voldemort turned to Hermione, looking quite pleased with himself.

"I know who you are--Lucius Malfoy has mentioned you--the Granger Mudblood, no?" Ron winced at the slur, but Hermione held Voldemort's steely gaze, and said nothing. He continued. "You are exactly right in your assessment of the scar. It's very old magic indeed; I should have remembered it as soon as I saw the lightning bolt-shaped glyph inscribed on the Potter infant's forehead. But it had been so long ... A very long time indeed since an associate of mine at the Department of Mysteries directed my attention to an obscure old scroll in a nearly untranslatable dialect. At the time, I thought little of it, as my attentions were ... focused elsewhere.

"My associate had made a much more significant discovery, you see- one which touched more directly on my quest for immortality. It was that discovery, in fact, which gave rise to this very potion." He motioned to the simmering cauldron. "His incidental discovery of a scroll purporting to contain protective charms, even ones that supposedly defend one against an exhaustive litany of curses, seemed far less significant by comparison. Besides, when would I come under threat of a Dark curse? My followers would never dare--and I was in no danger from those bumbling fools at the Ministry." Voldemort turned from Hermione to Harry.

"It wasn't until I came face-to-face with you, Harry, that I found out how wrong I was.

"In a way, I suppose I should thank you for that. Or rather, thank your mother--for certainly, she was the one with the knowledge and the presence of mind to etch that protective scar into your skin in the moments before her death. I had years in Albania to brood over my mistake--but I had no need for any such protections until I once again possessed a physical body of my own. Once I had acquired one, I set out to recover the catalog of protective charms."

Harry reached up and touched the scar on his forehead. The entire wizarding world--including Dumbledore--had believed that the scar was the result of the Killing curse hitting Harry and rebounding onto Voldemort. Could the scar really be the cause, rather than the result, of Harry's momentary immunity to the Killing curse? Could Voldemort be telling the truth?

A peal of high-pitched, mirthless laughter came as if in answer. Unnerved, Harry started at the sound.

"What would be the point of lying to you in the few seconds remaining before your death? I only tell you this so that you will know, before you die, that whatever protection you received from your parents--unknowing and unmerited--I have also acquired, through my own efforts.

"And not only that, but I have improved upon those protections, as well. Each glyph protects you from only one occurrence of a curse, you see. I am protected against far more than that." Voldemort rolled up his right sleeve to reveal row upon row of tiny images inscribed into the skin of his arm, as if it were a parchment bearing a message written in some foreign language. Every glyph catalogued in the scroll must have appeared at least ten times. They were packed so tightly that every inch of skin that he showed was completely covered. Hermione and Ron gasped. Snape and Green looked horrified.

"Harry!" a hoarse voice whispered. It was Professor Green. With an effort, she pulled Harry's wand out of her pocket and tossed it to him. Relieved to have his wand back, Harry pointed it at Voldemort.

Voldemort's mouth curled into a vicious sneer. "Go ahead, Harry. Curse me. I won't retaliate, I promise. But you should know that the protective charms will cause whatever spell you cast on me to rebound onto the closest available victim--as I found out, most unfortunately, that Halloween night fourteen years ago. As Wormtail found out tonight." Voldemort drew his wand. "So. It appears that I have the proverbial upper hand."

Harry's mind raced. He desperately tried to think of a spell, but every one he thought of--the Stunning spell, the Disarming spell, right down schoolyard hexes like Jelly-Legs and Furnunculous--Voldemort would likely have a defense for.

Voldemort laughed. "Well, I think that's enough chatting for one evening. And now, Harry, I bid you farewell."

A final possibility burst like a blinding ray of hope into Harry's mind, and he seized on it with full force. It would be difficult to do, considering the circumstances, but he had no choice. He summoned every ounce of mental strength, pointed his wand, and shouted:

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery mist shot from the end of Harry's wand, instantly taking the form of a large stag. Without hesitation, the stag charged Voldemort. His eyes wide with shock, Voldemort dodged the Patronus--but the creature pursued him. Voldemort backed away, trying several times to aim his wand at the Patronus, but it was no use--the Patronus was too close for Voldemort to take aim. Harry was surprised at how unnerved Voldemort became as the Patronus drew near.

Harry knew there wasn't much time; he couldn't keep up the Patronus Charm and hold off Voldemort indefinitely. "Go on!" he yelled to the others, motioning toward the archway. "Quickly! Get out!"

Ron and Hermione stood and began to obey, but stopped as they noticed that Green and Snape weren't moving. Professor Green seemed to be struggling to her feet with some difficulty, but her full attention was focused on pointing her wand at Voldemort.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Instantly a silver form issued from the end of her wand, taking the shape of a great eagle.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Harry turned to see Snape pointing his wand at Voldemort as well. Snape's phoenix Patronus followed the eagle and the (now rapidly dissipating) stag in pursuit of Voldemort. The Dark Lord was standing his ground now, hurling spells at the Patroni; but the spells simply shot through the misty creatures without deterring them.

"Get his wand!" Professor Green shouted.

Of course! No Patronus would remain indefinitely; if they wanted to disable Voldemort for good, they would have to get his wand away from him. Harry followed in the wake of the three Patroni, making a beeline for Voldemort's wand.

Harry approached Voldemort, dodging the stray curses that shot from his wand. Voldemort was so preoccupied vainly fighting off the Patroni that he didn't see Harry creep up on him in the half-darkness. Harry placed one foot behind Voldemort and pushed him backward; the Dark Lord fell, but not before grasping Harry tightly around the throat. He pulled Harry down, pushed him into the ground, and raised his wand.

But now Snape was behind Voldemort, and he snatched the wand out of his hand instantly. Wandless, but blind with fury, Voldemort tightened his grip around Harry's neck; Harry tried to pry his fingers off, but he was having trouble breathing...

Suddenly Voldemort was being pulled off Harry, who was in turn being pulled upright. Catching his breath, he looked around to see Professor Green holding him by his arm. She had regained some color and stood much more steadily now. The Patroni had disappeared.

"Alright there, Harry?" she asked. He nodded.

Snape waved his wand; instantly, vines sprung out from the back garden wall nearby and wrapped themselves around Voldemort.

Ron and Hermione stood just behind Snape, staring at Voldemort. Harry saw a new expression on each of their faces: they were reassessing the Dark Lord. The man who stood before them did not deserve their fear, or their respect. He almost deserved their pity.

Almost.

Voldemort's eyes shot daggers at Ron, then at each of them in turn. He did not speak.

"What now?" Harry asked. He turned to Professors Snape and Green. "We can't Stun him."

"Why not take him in just like this?" Ron answered. "Carry him right to the Ministry. I'll help."

"Ron," Hermione said, "I don't think that's such a good idea. Remember Pettigrew, our third year?" Harry realized she was right. Since Pettigrew had escaped from them on the night they first realized who he was, Harry didn't trust physical restraints to hold any wizard--especially Voldemort.

"Hermione has a point," Green said. "Besides, we don't even know that we can trust the Ministry, with Fudge in charge. Remember, he doesn't even believe that Voldemort is alive. How is he going to react when we bring that--" she motioned toward Voldemort-- "into his office, bound? Would he even accept the fact that it really is Voldemort? Besides, even if we could convince him, I don't trust Fudge to keep him locked safely away somewhere."

"What do you suggest, then?" Snape asked her. Clearly he was at a loss, though his belligerent tone veiled that sentiment very thinly.

Professor Green thought for a moment, then said, "You take the three of them to the fireplace inside, and call my Grandfather. I'll stay out here."

"But," Hermione interjected, "no one knows where Professor Dumbledore is. Professor McGonagall either. They've gone to look for you!"

Professor Green considered this. "Try Mrs. Figg's. If they went looking for me, they would have started there."

Snape looked hesitant. "And what are you going to do in the meantime?"

"This," she said.

She reached down to her belt and brought up the pouch that Harry had seen tied next to the knife. Carefully she untied the string that kept it closed, and turned it over, lightly pouring a dust-like substance into her hand.

Snape bristled. "Do you really think that's wise?" he sneered. "He would almost certainly choose the Dark side--"

"And what of that?" Green asked in a quiet voice, staring at him gravely.

"Do you realize what you'd be doing? Creating a Dementor--"

"--And ridding the world of the most evil wizard alive." She continued to stare at Snape, unblinking. "I know how to handle a Dementor, Professor. I do not, on the other hand, have a clue how to deal with a powerful Dark wizard against whom no defensive spell, charm, hex, or curse can be cast. If you have a better idea how to deal with him, I would be delighted to hear it." She had taken on a formidable air as she spoke. Harry was convinced; and even if he hadn't been, he wouldn't have argued with her.

Snape stared at Green angrily for a moment, then turned on his heel and headed toward the archway.

"Go with him!" she instructed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as she began walking in a circle around Voldemort, pouring more phoenix ash onto the ground all the while. Each step was carefully measured. As she walked, she uttered the incantation:

"Accio animus zamius, optare bonum, an optare pernicies ..."

Meanwhile, Snape made his way toward the exit. He motioned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to follow him, which they did without speaking. Before they reached the archway, however, a hooded form emerged from it.

His heart lurched excitedly, and Harry sighed in relief--hopefully this was Dumbledore, or McGonagall--he couldn't quite make out the shape in the darkness. Snape stopped and stood motionless, peering at the figure; behind him, Ron, Hermione, and Harry did the same. Before anyone had the chance to speak, the figure muttered a spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The spell hit Harry first. As he felt every muscle in his body tense, he fell backward helplessly, toppling into Ron and pushing him over backwards like a domino. Instantly the figure cast the spell twice more. Snape fell unceremoniously onto his back; Hermione was also hit.

Harry could not see Ron's face, but he felt his friend squirming under his back, and knew that Ron was not immobilized. Ron, however, soon stopped stirring, and he made no sound. Harry thought he noticed Ron's breathing slowing.

The man stopped in the midst of the four motionless bodies, surveying them in the darkness. His hood still obscured his face. Then, apparently convinced that the four were immobilized, he made his way toward the other end of the garden, where Green stood Summoning Voldemort.

Now it was safe for Ron to stand. He easily pulled himself from beneath Harry's weight. From where Harry lay, he could see Ron's face- jaw set, eyes flashing--as well as the man who stood with his back to them both, watching the Summoning. Ron glanced apologetically at Harry and Hermione as he began to creep up silently behind the anonymous figure, careful to remain in the shadow of the garden wall.

The figure didn't move to stop Professor Green as she carried on with the Summoning, oblivious to his presence. She had finished making the circle now; the crimson flames grew high, suspending Voldemort's form at the tip of a fiery vortex. Harry couldn't be sure, but it looked like--was he--smiling? He certainly wasn't shouting in protest, as Mundungus Fletcher had.

At his Summoning, Fletcher had appeared as a hole cut into space, through which a spectator could see shafts of light, patches of darkness, and streaks of gray. But Voldemort was different. It was as though he were a shadow suspended in the center of the vortex, with a few tiny shafts of light piercing the darkness. Within a few minutes, the flames had died down, and he landed--on his feet--in the center of the circle.

There was no change in his appearance. He laughed again, his usual cold, shrill cackle. Harry did not shudder, but only because his muscles were immobilized by the Full-Body Bind. The stranger behind Professor Green stood still.

"No," she whispered. "It can't be. It's not possible. No one comes through the Summoning unchanged."

"My dear," said Voldemort, still smiling grimly, "you fail to realize: the Summoning is very old magic. Old enough, in fact, to have been included in that ancient catalog of protective charms."

He rolled up his left sleeve. Branded on his arm, just as on his followers', was the most familiar glyph from the scroll--a skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

"The Dark Mark," Professor Green said weakly.

"Of course. You thought it was only for decoration?" Voldemort taunted. "Of course not. It was just good fortune that it made as useful an emblem for my cause as it did a means of calling my servants--and keeping them in my service, rather than yours. Don't you agree, Julius?"

"Not that it was ever tested. Until tonight," intoned the figure behind Professor Green. She whirled around to face the man who had calmly watched her Summoning Lord Voldemort.

"You?" she gasped. The man lowered his hood. Harry could just discern the profile of Professor Thorne, looking singularly satisfied at Green's disbelief.

"Who else could have provided the Dark Lord with the proper translation of the scroll that Harry Potter found in your trunk? Thanks for that, by the way; I was overjoyed to have it back in my possession."

Professor Green looked as puzzled as Harry felt.

"Of course I had seen it before," he said, in answer to her unspoken question. "In my work translating ancient charms for the Department of Mysteries. I handed a translation over to my Lord, of course--at least, as complete a translation as I could manage at the time. I've learned a lot about the dialect since then, you see, it's a very unusual one--but I digress." He cleared his throat and continued. "That was before the scroll mysteriously went missing.

"It occurred around the time that I was forced to begin working with James Potter. Rather nice fellow, for a Muggle-lover. Seemed very interested in the scroll. Though, of course, he was forbidden from telling even a fellow Unspeakable why.

"Then the scroll went missing, just as I was beginning to make some real progress on it, and I was assigned to a new project. But that one had seemed so promising--so I grew suspicious. I wondered whether some in the Department had guessed at my--true sympathies--even though they wouldn't have been able to prove anything.

"So I left. I left the country and worked in the Middle East for several years, but once I heard the rumors of the Dark Lord's return, I applied for the job at Hogwarts. As luck would have it, there was an opening, and I was hired. Then, lo and behold! You come to me with a scroll newly discovered in a trunk once issued to an Unspeakable. Remarkable, really; the Ministry usually scours those trunks inside and out before reissuing them. Whoever hid it must have wanted it to stay hidden." He shrugged. "But I say, it's just as well that no one else has it. Can you imagine? Every half-witted Mudblood and Muggle-loving wizard marked from head to toe with protective glyphs-- spells bouncing all around--utter chaos." He grimaced in disdain. "Although I suspect," he said, nodding in the direction of Pettigrew's lifeless form, "you've seen a little of that tonight anyway."

From the look on her face, Harry could tell that Professor Green's mind was reeling. "You were a Death Eater all along? How--how is it possible that I didn't know?"

Thorne laughed. "You didn't speak with me about the scroll directly very much, did you? Mostly through Miss Granger, as I recall. And when you and I did talk, it was easy for me to dole out truths and half-truths just deceptive as any bald-faced lie." He drew himself up proudly. "I am a scholar of languages, after all.

"At any rate, I always did think that reading emotions was much less effective than simply reading minds. You ought to look into the Dark Arts yourself." He chuckled heartily at his joke.

"Enough, Julius," Voldemort muttered, making his way toward the cauldron. "I believe that my potion is finally finished. I have waited long enough for this; I do not wish to wait any longer just to hear your self important babbling." He paused. "Take care of her, if you please."

Thorne nodded, and pointed his wand at Green. "Goodbye, Professor," he said simply.

Before Thorne had the chance to utter a word, a shriek erupted from Voldemort as he stood over the cauldron. Thorne and Green both looked at him, alarmed. "WHERE IS IT?" Voldemort ran toward them, wand pointed at Green. "TELL ME WHERE IT IS!"

Eyes wide in apparent confusion, Green said, "What do you mean? Maybe there was some mistake." To Harry's surprise, she seemed to know what Voldemort was talking about.

"THERE WAS NO MISTAKE!" Voldemort roared. At once, with a visible effort, he calmed himself. "You will tell me what you and your--friends- have done with it."

Apparently searching for a reply, Green stared back open-mouthed. Suddenly, Harry saw Ron emerge from the shadows nearby, wearing his regular street clothes and carrying a black bundle. For some reason, he must have taken off his school robes.

"Finite Incantatem!" he whispered, pointing his wand at Harry. Grateful, Harry stood and performed the same spell on Hermione, while Ron performed it on Snape. They stood up, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

"Thorne, where are the others?" they heard Voldemort ask suddenly.

"Here!" Snape yelled, fishing something--it looked like a regular quill -out of his pocket. He held it out toward the students as they eyed each other dubiously.

"TAKE HOLD!" he yelled again, still holding it out to them. Then understanding dawned on Harry, and he reached out to touch the Portkey as Hermione and Ron did the same.

"STOP THEM!" Voldemort screamed. But they were too fast; the last thing they heard before their feet left the ground was the very first syllable of a Stunning spell aimed in their direction.

Harry felt the rough stone dungeon floor materialize under his feet. He steadied himself, narrowly avoiding falling headlong onto the floor. He had only just regained his balance as Snape was opening the door of his office and motioning the three of them to follow him out into the corridor. Harry noticed that Snape now carried the bundle of Ron's robes. Harry shot Ron a questioning look, but Snape spoke before Ron had the chance to.

"Dumbledore's office, and be discreet, if you please. Quickly!"

"But what about Professor Green?" Hermione asked.

Snape stared down at her icily. "If you prefer to attempt to retrieve her yourself, then by all means, do so," he replied bitterly. "I, on the other hand, think it wisest to consult Professor Dumbledore, if we can find him." He turned on his heel briskly and left the office. Ron, Harry, and Hermione followed.

Harry felt supremely odd to find himself walking safely through the corridors of Hogwarts only minutes after facing down Voldemort. Groups of students lingered on the stairwells, talking and laughing. Fifth-years shuffled down corridors, visibly nervous about O.W.L.s. A few made eye contact with Harry, and he nodded at them; most took in Snape's grim demeanor and shot back a sympathetic look. They didn't seem to notice the bundle Snape carried.

"Licorice whip," Snape muttered, causing the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office to spring aside. He ushered Harry, Ron, and Hermione up the stairway first, then followed them. The four of them sprang into Dumbledore's office; behind them, Snape closed the door.

They looked around; Snape called out for the Headmaster, but the office and adjoining rooms were apparently empty.

Snape strode to the fireplace. "You'll be safe here," he said, rummaging through the objects on the mantel for a moment before producing a handful of Floo powder. "Wait for me or another teacher to fetch you. Do not leave."

As he moved to toss the handful of powder into the fire, however, a whirling figure appeared in the midst of the flames. A second later, Dumbledore emerged. He straightened and stepped out of the fire just as Professor McGonagall appeared in the flames behind him.

While Professor McGonagall stepped out of the fireplace, Dumbledore acknowledged Snape. "Severus," he said, but stopped when he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Slowly, Dumbledore looked at each face in turn.

"May I be so bold as to guess," he said quietly, "that you have news?" He stared at Snape; Dumbledore looked reserved as ever, but his features appeared strangely taut and strained.

Snape spoke quickly. "Headmaster, we found Professor Green--and the Dark Lord. It would take too long to explain. But you were right about the Imperius Curse."

Dumbledore nodded patiently. He had the look of a man expecting terrible news.

"She's still there, with him and one of his Death Eaters. We four had to leave, we had no choice. Once Mister Weasley found--" he held out the bundle wrapped in Ron's robes-- "this, we couldn't stay any longer. It was too dangerous."

Snape fell silent, still offering Dumbledore Ron's robes and whatever was wrapped up in them. Slowly, carefully, Dumbledore took the bundle, and began to unwrap it. When he was able to see what lay inside, he let out a very long, deep breath. Harry and Hermione were practically bursting with curiosity to see what Dumbledore saw, but neither dared to interrupt--clearly he was deep in thought. He handed the bundle to Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall looked down at the bundle, and then up at Dumbledore. Harry thought she seemed a bit paler than when she had stepped out of the fire. "Albus, what does it mean?"

At length he said, "I must confess, I've no idea."

Snape shook his head. "Neither do I. I would be hard-pressed to guess at how he did it--let alone why."

"You say Ron made the discovery?" Dumbledore asked, but he was looking at Ron, not Snape.

"Yes, sir," Ron answered. He spoke clearly and forcefully, for all the world as if he hadn't just nearly been killed. "I heard You-Know-Who--I mean, I heard Voldemort--" he enunciated the name slowly, resolutely-- "saying he had a potion that would give him immortality somehow. I had the chance to get at it when no one was looking. I thought I might be able to ruin it. I never expected--what I found."

Hermione couldn't take the suspense any longer. "Excuse me, but what's--"

Just then the door to Dumbledore's office burst open to reveal Professor Green standing--barely--on the threshold. Her robes were tattered and horribly bloodstained where the knife had ripped through them. Her hair was disheveled, her face was dirty, and she looked as though she might collapse at any second. But she was beaming.

She shot a clear-eyed glance at every face in the room. Before she had the chance to speak a word, Dumbledore crossed to the place where she stood and embraced her wordlessly.

Now a sheepish smile, like that of a child embarrassed by his mother's praise, crossed her face. As Dumbledore stepped back, she looked to Snape, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Thought you could leave me behind, did you? Nice try."

"But how did you--" Hermione began.

"Voldemort didn't think to put an Anti-Apparition barrier around the garden. Can't blame him, really--they're terribly complicated and time consuming. And I suppose he didn't expect Professor Snape or me to Disapparate and leave you three there with him. After I saw you all escape, it was a simple matter, really, to Apparate to someplace close to Hogwarts. Took me a few minutes to walk up from Hogsmeade, though." She stopped, found an armchair, and sat, catching her breath.

Professor McGonagall looked from one face to another. She appeared to have regained some color, Harry noticed--five consecutive end-of-year crises involving her students must have made her a little more shockproof. She did, however, seem to be in danger of losing her patience.

"Persephone--Severus--Albus--would someone please explain what is happening here? And whose child is that?"

Professor Green started, and her expression changed instantly. She looked gravely at Professor McGonagall. "Child? So--so the potion worked? I didn't think--I mean, I had hoped it wouldn't--"

Every eye in the room was now focused on Green, but she didn't seem to notice. Her full attention was trained on the bundle in Professor McGonagall's arms. She stood and crossed the room toward McGonagall. "Minerva--may I--?" she asked quietly. McGonagall handed her the bundle.

Green pulled back a fold of Ron's robes, and Harry could just see a tiny face, its eyes closed, a miniature fist propped lazily against a cheek.

"Oh no," Professor Green whispered.