Stay Free

Chapter 13: Injuries and Missions

When Harry awoke, there was no light pouring in from the window. There were only stars that winked at him, the moon that hung lazily in space. He became vaguely aware that someone was in the armchair Dumbledore had provided for himself earlier, and that someone was watching him. His first instinct was to grab his wand on the bedside table, but a low chuckle stopped him.

"Mr. Potter, you can safely assume that I am not here to harm you," said Snape, sounding amused. Harry relaxed, but kept moving his hand to tap the candle with his wand. It brightened a small circle of the room, illuminating a tired looking Snape with dark circles under his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Dumbledore requested that someone watch you," answered Snape coldly. "Madam Pomfrey has already healed me. I trust you slept well?"

"Dreamless Sleep Potion," Harry said, resisting the urge to yawn. "And how are you? Pomfrey told me you got hit with an Exhaustion Spell." Snape nodded. "Thanks for getting me out of there."

There was a moment of silence, broken by Snape saying gruffly, "I suppose I should say the same to you."

"Yes, I suppose you should," Harry said, trying to keep the bite of anger out of his voice.

"Thank you." The words sounded foreign coming from Snape's mouth. Harry was sure he hadn't used them in awhile.

"You're welcome," said Harry, inclining his head. "That wasn't so tough now, was it?"

Snape said nothing but merely rolled his eyes briefly. Harry laughed at that, the sound echoing in the near-empty room.

There was another moment of uncomfortable silence. Harry suddenly recalled the things he had seen in Snape's office, and swallowed awkwardly. Snape would know sooner or later that he had been there, and Harry wanted to know why exactly those particular items were still in Snape's possession. Nothing would get his questions answered like asking the person sitting beside him. Of course, Snape would probably become dreadfully angry...but he had to know...

"Professor, I'd like to tell you something..."

"Yes?" Snape said obligingly, steepling his fingers together and looking at Harry over them.

"Well...when I was looking for you, I went down to your office to look, because you had said something about it." Harry paused, expecting an outburst, but Snape nodded for him to continue. "And...I'll admit it, I did some poking around."

"And where exactly did you poke around?"

"In the desk," said Harry quietly. Snape twitched in his chair, his face growing pale. "I saw the necklace, I read the letter Lily sent to you and a conversation on charmed parchment from your school days, and..." Harry hesitated, but resumed speaking. "...I saw...the ring."

Snape sat rigid, his hands clenching the arms of the chair with white knuckles. He looked to be trying to control his breathing.

"I know it wasn't right of me to snoop," Harry added quickly.

"Damn right it wasn't!"

"I know! But couldn't you have mentioned a ring?"

"You had no right to look through my things, Potter," Snape said softly. His voice had reached the dangerous point that both he and Professor McGonagall seemed to share--that low, silky tone that sent shivers up student's spines.

"I know, sir," Harry replied. He realized he was gripping the sheets in his hands, twisting them around his wrists. He loosened his hold, and the feeling returned to his arms. "I was trying to find where you were."

"You do, however," Snape continued, plainly ignoring what Harry had said, "have the right to know why those things were there. And about the ring."

"So you're going to tell me?" asked Harry, sitting up straighter.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Snape fixed him with a dark gaze. "Please hold your questions until I'm finished." Harry nodded, and the professor began to speak.

"You know that Lily and I had an intimate relationship. What you don't know is that it was far more serious than just a fling with someone at school. We were very close, Potter. I would do anything for her, tell her anything at all--except my job as a Death Eater, of course--and she would do the same for me. Like yourself and Mr. Weasley, for example."

"Except Ron and I aren't shagging," Harry pointed out. Snape snorted and half-smiled; it was the closest thing to a true laugh Harry had ever seen from the older man.

"Yes, undoubtedly true. Anyway...as I said, Lily and I were remarkably close for seventeen-year-olds. I...loved her, so much. It is why I bought the ring. Yes, Potter, you can wipe that surprised look off your face. I did propose. And she accepted."

"But what about my dad?" Harry cried out, ignoring Snape's previous request to keep quiet. "He didn't force her to marry him, did he?"

"No, that was Lily's choice." An ugly look crossed Snape's face. "She did accept my proposal, but did not wear the ring on her finger; we didn't want to draw attention. Instead, she wore it on a chain around her neck. She used to say it was 'closer to her heart that way'..." A distant look replaced the ugly one on Snape's pallid face. "So, yes, Potter, we planned to get married after school. However, there was the incident with Avery. Lily realized that we had been living a lie for more than a year, and didn't like it."

"But if you loved each other so much, why couldn't you just come out to the school?"

"Things were different then, Potter. You have friends in other houses, don't you?" Harry nodded. "Back when I was at Hogwarts, having friends in houses beside your own was nearly unheard of. Especially if you were a Slytherin. Yes, people knew that she and I were friends, but a girlfriend? Someone you planned to marry? I would have been disowned by my house, as would Lily. But she didn't want to live under a secret. So..." Snape held up his hands, palms up. "We broke up."

"That must have hurt," Harry commented.

"You have no idea, Potter." An aching pain passed Snape's face, though he tried to hide it. "Have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

Harry shrugged. "Nah, not really...Well, actually...You know Cho Chang?"

"The Ravenclaw who's a year ahead of you."

"Yeah, her. We went out to Hogsmeade last year. But she always wanted to talk about--about Cedric." A lump rose in Harry's throat at the mention of the dead. "Always started crying, and it got annoying. And her friend, Marietta, was the one who told Umbridge about the D.A. That was the last straw."

It then hit Harry that he was discussing girls with Snape. Snape, the least understanding person at Hogwarts--not to mention most feared--was nodding solemnly as though he knew exactly what Harry meant. He burst into a fit of chuckles as he thought more about it, causing Snape to raise his eyebrows.

"What, exactly, is so funny, Potter?"

"Nothing really," Harry chortled, wiping a tear of laughter from his eyes. "Just that you--you're talking about girls with me, and I find that quite funny. Oh, Ron would never believe me if I told him..."

"Probably not." The corners of Snape's mouth were twitching, as though he was holding back a grin.

After Harry had a good laugh and calmed down, he asked, "So, I'm guessing Lily gave you the ring back after you agreed not to be together anymore?" Snape nodded. "But what about the necklace?"

Snape's face tightened. "I...went to Godric Hollow the night of their death, with Dumbledore. Before all the people from the Ministry arrived." He buried his face in his hands with his elbows on his knees. His words came out in a mumble. Harry strained his ears to hear. "Dumbledore suggested I take anything of mine out of what remained of the house, so the Ministry wouldn't suspect I had anything to do with their deaths. I hadn't known she had saved all--all our conversations." Snape's voice was breaking, and Harry detected a small sob. "There was the necklace there, too. I had had it made for her, some fancy shop in London that I couldn't afford until I became Lucius's...how can I say this...lapdog, as Black said, fits best..."

"So...what you said about Lily meaning nothing to you--I'm assuming that's total crap, right?" Harry asked cautiously. Without removing his head from his hands, Snape nodded. "You still love her, don't you?"

Snape nodded again. His shoulders began to shake.

"I know," Harry said quietly. He leaned over and blew out the candle. "Thanks for telling me."

Harry heard rather than saw Snape stand up and walk away. There was the sound of the door opening, but it didn't shut. "Thank you." The door shut, and Harry could hear footsteps echoing in the corridor outside.

"Tonight would be a good night to practice Occlumency," Harry whispered to himself. He pulled the blanket up to his chin, and concentrated on clearing his mind.

* * *

Severus awoke the next morning to find Remus Lupin sitting across from him on the couch in his rooms, looking at him critically. "Good morning, Severus," he said brightly. "I trust you and your whiskey slept well?"

The werewolf gestured to the empty bottle that was currently sliding out of Severus's grip to the ground. He placed it on the table beside the chair he had fallen asleep in, and glared at Lupin the best he could with a roaring headache.

"How did you get past my wards?" Severus snapped. His eyes were on fire...

"Dumbledore," said Lupin simply. "They opened up for him, without going through the spell sequence. He left when he saw you were asleep, though."

"The doors are charmed to open for Dumbledore and any of my fellow Death Eaters," Severus stated. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; he had drooled in his sleep. "And Potter," he added.

Lupin looked surprised. "Why Harry? And isn't that dangerous? What if someone used Polyjuice Potion?"

"The doors scan the person's DNA," explained Severus. "Polyjuice is only for looking like someone. You can't fool DNA. Remarkable, really..."

"You still haven't said why the doors are open to Harry." There was a slight warning tone in Lupin's voice.

"If you think I'm shagging the boy, Lupin, you're wrong and a complete idiot," Severus said coldly. "I do not prefer children."

"Sorry," said Lupin quickly, looking flustered, "jumped to conclusions, I suppose..."

"The wards are open to Potter because Dumbledore believes he and I should form a truce," said Severus wearily. Gods, why didn't Lupin leave him alone in his hungover state? "That includes allowing him to visit my rooms if necessary."

"You told him about Lily."

"Dumbledore asked me to."

"I didn't know you two were so close. I thought you were just friends."

"We weren't."

"I know."

Having just spent the night drinking his sorrows away and looking for answers in the bottom of a bottle, Severus decided to steer the conversation away from Lily. "How's Potter? Had Pomfrey allowed him to leave the hospital wing yet?"

Lupin shook his head. "Not until he's completely healed."

"What spell did the man cast?" Severus asked curiously.

"Harry was hit with a Knockout Spell, but it was a bit different than the one I was taught. He's covered in bruises, and he says that it hurts whenever he moves."

Severus nodded. "Yes, the Dark Lord decided to perfect the Knockout Spell to his taste, and introduced it to his followers. Gives them pain while they're unconscious. Of course, the bruises might have come from the fact that I dropped him down a hill."

"Perhaps."

They were silent for a few minutes, and then Severus asked, "What are you doing in my rooms, anyway?"

"Harry asked me to check on you, actually," answered Lupin. A faint smile appeared on his prematurely lined face at Severus's choke of surprise. "He was afraid you weren't feeling too well, because of some conversation you two had last night."

Feeling both annoyed and touched that Potter had been concerned about him, Severus shook his head, saying, "It's all right. Just...something about Lily, that's all."

"You're sure?" Lupin said anxiously. "He seemed really worried."

"I'm fine. I read a few books, had some whiskey"--Severus gestured to the empty bottle, causing Lupin to snort--"and fell asleep. I'm fine, Lupin. There is no need to fuss over me."

"You're sure?" repeated Lupin timidly.

"Yes, Lupin, I'm sure! Sober-Up Potion is all I need."

Lupin looked amused. "You keep it in stock here?"

"Enough students come back from Hogsmeade completely pissed."

"Indeed." There was a short pause, and then Lupin said, "Draco's giving his report at tomorrow night's meeting. Are you feeling well enough to go?"

"Yes. I'll need to know whether or not the Dark Lord wants to kill me," Severus said wryly. "He will not be happy that Potter helped me escape."

"He never kills you in the end. You've been in positions like this before. He let you back into the inner circle, after you had 'left him forever'."

"This is true," Severus agreed, "but then I had information. Information about Dumbledore. And Potter. Things he found useful. It was because of that he allowed me back in. After weeks of torturing, I might add."

"You have the lives of a cat, Severus," Lupin said, sighing as he stood. "I need to speak with Dumbledore at headquarters, then get back to Harry. I need to make sure he's all right."

Severus nodded jerkily in reply. Lupin left, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

It was past noon when Remus entered the hospital wing. Harry looked up from a crossword puzzle Madam Pomfrey had given him, and smiled.

"Hello, Remus."

"Afternoon, Harry." Remus took the seat that Dumbledore had made the previous night. He studied Harry critically. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," Harry answered. "My head still hurts, and I've got the bruises, but other than that I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey won't let me leave, though."

"Good. I'm glad."

There was a brief pause, and then Harry asked, "Did you talk to Snape?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Remus corrected sternly, but there was amusement in his eyes. "And yes, I did. He drank an entire bottle of whiskey before falling asleep and awakened by me."

"An entire bottle?" Harry said in disbelief.

"Yes. I'm assuming he tried to rid his sorrows with it."

Harry recalled that Snape's father had had a problem with whiskey, and found himself hoping that Snape wouldn't follow that path. He opened his mouth to say something on the subject, but the door burst open and Charlie Weasley strode in, carrying a limp, blanket-covered form in his arms. As he got closer, Harry saw that the blanket was actually a cloak, the hood hiding the person's face.

"Where's Pomfrey?" he barked. The person in his arms stirred, and he suddenly looked desperate. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here, Mr. Weasley," came Madam Pomfrey's voice from her office off to the side of the hospital wing. "Have you gotten yourself burned again?" she continued as she walked towards him.

"No. It's him." Charlie gestured to the body. "Dumbledore asked me to bring him over...It's the Malfoy boy, Poppy. Just got back from his second meeting. I'm guessing he planned to tell Dumbledore things before the meeting tomorrow."

"Draco?" Remus said abruptly. Harry straightened up. "Is he all right?"

"No," Charlie answered. He looked worried, and every few seconds he glanced down at Malfoy. "He's unconscious, covered in bruises, burns, and what looks like both fingernail scratching and knife marks. He's seriously injured, but he managed to use the Portkey Dumbledore had made for him, the button on his robes. Landed in the kitchen, right in the middle of lunch. Gave us all a fright."

"Let's take a look," Pomfrey said, looking worried. Charlie lay the bundle down on the bed beside Harry's, and carefully pulled back the cloak. A darkening bruise hid Malfoy's right eye. There were numerous other bruises among his face, coloured purple and green. His skin was deathly pale. What looked like a knife blade had caused the long scrape that ran from his temple down to the tip of his chin. It still dripped blood.

"What did they do to him?" Remus whispered, looking appalled. "And why? Severus said he was safe..."

"Apparently not," said Charlie grimly. "He was in a worse state when he arrived at...well, you know. He did manage to say that he was sorry for landing in Hermione's plate before passing out."

"A gentlemen," said Pomfrey dryly. She had taken out her wand and was carefully applying it to Malfoy's face. The bruises began to slowly fade. "This is going to take awhile, Mr. Weasley."

"Yeah, I thought that," Charlie said. He was looking down at Malfoy with concern. "He may have been a prat to Ron over the years, but no one deserves to have this done to them."

For Madam Pomfrey had unbuttoned Malfoy's robes and removed his shirt, exposing the pale, disfigured skin underneath. Among other injuries, there were finger-shaped bruises along his chest and neck, and a deep diagonal gash across his abdomen. The Dark Mark stood out against the pallid skin of his left forearm. Someone had taken a knife to carve into his arm so that blood outlined the deep black colour of the ugly tattoo.

Harry had to look away for a moment, trying to ignore the atrocious taste in his mouth. Death Eaters had obviously done this to him. But why? Had Malfoy said something he shouldn't have? Talked back, perhaps? Or maybe he had defended Dumbledore?

"I need to go speak with Professor Snape," said Pomfrey finally, having already assessed the damage. "He'll have a few potions I need...Oh dear, I've never seen anything like this...Please, let me know if he shows any signs of awakening...Excuse me, gentlemen..."

Madam Pomfrey left the room in a hurry, obviously off to the dungeons. Charlie withdrew his wand and waved it, making a chair identical to the one Dumbledore had created the night before. He pulled it beside Malfoy's bed, and sighed.

"Harry, is he really awful to you at school?" Charlie asked, looking at the other boy with anxiety. "Or has he changed a bit?"

"Well...he was always horrible to the three of us"

"You, Hermione, and Ron?" interjected Charlie.

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding, "yeah, the three of us. He can be pretty appalling if he wants to, but he's shaped up this summer. He hasn't done anything to Ron or Hermione, and he's been kind to your family. I haven't heard any nasty comments about my parents so far, either."

"Having Lucius thrown in jail really did help him," Remus mused.

The three of them sat and watched, waiting for the injured boy to awaken.

* * *

"Severus!"

He jerked his head up at the sound of his name. There was a sharp knock on his door, followed by someone crying, "Severus! Open this door!"

"Poppy?" said Severus curiously, walking across the room to open the door. Madam Pomfrey stood, her fist poised as though she were about to knock again. She breathed an enormous sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought you'd left--"

"What's wrong, Poppy?" Severus asked sharply. He'd never seen the school nurse in such a fuss. She was wringing her hands nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. He felt a sudden lurch in his stomach as he quickly thought over the possibilities. "Did something happen with Potter? Dumbledore? Lupin?"

"No!" she squeaked. "It's Draco! He arrived back from a...you know, a meeting, and--oh, he's in terrible shape!"

Severus swept past her into his office, heading to the potion flasks. He grabbed a couple off the shelf, tucked them into his pocket, and jerked for her to follow him. They both strode up to the Hospital Wing swiftly, the walking gradually speeding up to a slow jog. As they grew nearer and nearer, both were out of breath from sprinting down the corridors.

Severus got to the door first; he wrenched it open and skidded to a stop inside. Draco was lying on the bed beside Potter's, pale and covered in more injuries than Severus bothered to count. Lupin and Charlie Weasley were both in chairs beside the bed, looking anxious and frightened. Potter looked as though he was trying to remain calm, but the worry was showing clear in his eyes.

"How long has he been unconscious?" he snapped at Charlie, who jumped at being addressed so suddenly.

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes," Charlie answered shakily.

Severus walked closer, studying the unconscious boy. The bruises, the shapes of the wounds...It all looked rather familiar...

"I know who did this," he said abruptly. Potter snorted.

"We all do, Professor. It's obvious. Death Eaters. Or Voldemort."

Severus bit back a gasp of pain as his Dark Mark responded. "Yes, Mr. Potter, that much is unmistakable," he said through gritted teeth. "However, the patterns of these injuries are distinct to a particular Death Eater, by the name of Avery. Poppy, I wouldn't do that," he added hastily as the nurse made a move to begin cleaning the wounds upon Draco's chest. "They could be cursed."

"Cursed?" said Lupin, looking mildly interested. "Are they charmed to resist magic?"

"Five points to Gryffindor, Lupin," said Severus dryly. "You're partially right. You see, these injuries"--He pointed out the wound across Draco's abdomen, the knife gashes over his body, the carved Dark Mark--"were done with what's called the Addo Infragilis Poena. If you remember anything from History of Magic, you'll know that it's a certain blade created in the Founder's time. The injuries it inflicts must be treated the Muggle way. It was considered a great threat in the Founder's time, because Muggles at that time did not have the best medical advancements."

"So...do we bring in a Muggle Healer?" Charlie asked. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, chin in hands. "What're they called, Harry?"

"Doctors," answered Potter. "Madam Pomfrey, do you know how to heal things the Muggle way?"

"Yes," answered the nurse, "I always keep some Muggles things handy, just in case. For the Muggle-born first years, mostly. Now, I'll begin work on Mr. Malfoy. Remus, dear, could you go and let Dumbledore know of his condition?"

"Of course, Poppy," said Lupin, standing up. He ruffled Potter's hair in a brotherly gesture, nodded to each person in the room, then left.

"I should probably go and tell Mum," Charlie said, standing up as well. "Owl me if there's anything, all right?" He shook Potter's hand firmly before heading out the door after Lupin.

Severus sighed, turning to Poppy. "I expect you'll want me to stay here and play babysitter?"

"I know you hate it, Professor, but I do need someone here. You seem to know about this blade--the Addo Infragilis Poena, is it? Yes?--and I'll need your help while I try to heal Draco."

Severus nodded and took Lupin's vacant seat. "Go ahead, Poppy."

* * *

Harry opened his eyes groggily, thankful that day had turned to night and there was no light, except for a single candle on his bedside table. He rubbed his face vigorously in an attempt to wake himself up. About an hour after Malfoy had been brought in, everything had gotten boring. Snape wasn't speaking, Madam Pomfrey had done the best she could, and Malfoy still hadn't awoken. So, Harry had taken the time to nap.

"How long have I been sleeping?" he muttered to the dark shape sitting in the chair beside his bed.

"About three hours," answered Snape curtly. "Do you feel any better?"

Harry yawned and nodded, then remembered the room was almost pitch-black. "Yes. Much."

"Good."

"How's Malfoy?" Harry asked, straightening up. "Is he awake?"

"No, not yet. It was the second stage in his initiation ceremony, where the other Death Eaters see how much pain the newest can take. Avery must have really enjoyed doing this to him, judging by the amount of wounds."

"Did you enjoy it?" Harry blurted out. He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, and waited nervously for Snape's reply.

"Being a Death Eater, you mean?"

"Yes," said Harry hesitantly. Well, he didn't sound too mad.

There was a short pause. "Yes, Potter, I did enjoy it. I took pleasure in slaughtering and raping people, destroying houses and mutilating families."

Harry was beginning to wish he hadn't said a thing. Snape's voice was bitter and full of remorse. He had never heard the man speak like this, not even when he was talking about Lily. He wriggled in his bed uncomfortably at the Potions Master's painful tone.

"And if you're planning to ask me if I still enjoy it," said Snape softly, "the answer is, I suppose, yes and no."

"Oh," Harry said faintly. He remembered Snape's satisfied expression when he spoke of his double-agent job, and his stomach squirmed.

"Lupin dropped off some things from headquarters," Snape continued. There was a slight rustling sound, then something was placed at the end of Harry's bed. "He bought you some new robes."

"He shouldn't have to buy so many things for me," Harry muttered, a stab of guilt hitting him in the stomach as he dragged the box towards him and stuck it under his bed. "I've got enough money. My mum and dad left me a small fortune, and I've got everything Sirius left me. I know Remus doesn't have much money, and he can't get a lot of jobs because he's a werewolf. Really, he shouldn't have..." he finished lamely.

"Lupin is bound by the law to take care of you. That includes buying school supplies, your clothing, and anything else you need."

"But I can take care of myself!"

"Spoken like a true sixteen-year-old."

Harry sunk back into his pillow, knowing he looked and sounded sullen, irritable, and whiny. He found himself wanting to start a verbal fight, get a reaction out of Snape. To hurt the other man with his words, try and get rid of the sudden anger bubbling in his stomach.

"Why did Sirius send you to the Whomping Willow, anyway?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry felt the anger leave his body. Not only had he said the dead man's name, but he had said something that definitely would make Snape angry...

"I said some things I shouldn't have."

"Pardon?"

"I said some things I shouldn't have."

Harry stared at Snape, but the other man's expression was blank. He began to ask what the hell the other man was talking about, but before he could, there was a strangled cry from Malfoy's bed.

The chair Snape was sitting in scraped across the floor as he pushed it out of the way, bending over Malfoy's bed. Harry reached over and tapped the other candles with his wand, illuminating the silver-haired boy's exhausted frame, one eye fluttering open.

"Draco!" Snape whispered urgently. He tapped one of the boy's cheeks. Malfoy groaned, his breath coming out in a low hiss. "Draco! Are you awake?"

"Should I go get Pomfrey?" Harry asked, but Snape shook his head.

"It doesn't look like he's going into shock...I think he's just having trouble awakening..." Snape continued to lightly strike Malfoy's face. The boy groaned again.

Suddenly, Malfoy sat up, his eyes snapping open, his chest heaving in an effort to slow his breathing. Harry could see that his shirt was soaked with sweat.

"Professor Snape?" said Malfoy, his voice high-pitched and frightened. "Potter? Where the hell am I?"

"The hospital wing at Hogwarts," answered Harry.

"You arrived back from a meeting and collapsed at headquarters," Snape reminded him. "You've been unconscious for quite some time."

Malfoy rubbed the space between his now tightly closed eyes. "Yeah...I'm beginning to remember it now...Hurts like you wouldn't believe...This must be what it feels like to be you, Potter, spending all this time in the hospital wing..."

"Draco, I'd advise you to get some sleep," Snape instructed. "I'm going to awake Poppy and contact Dumbledore. Potter, come running if anything happens."

The Potions Master turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his robes billowing behind him to make him look like a giant bat. Harry turned to Malfoy. The sight of the injured boy brought a stab of pity into Harry's chest.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a herd of hippogriffs ran me over," Malfoy answered, looking down at his body. He peered down at Pomfrey's work, looking utterly bewildered. "What in the name of Merlin are these little black things?"

"They're called stitches, Malfoy," Harry answered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the mystified look on the other boy's face. "It's a Muggle way of treating wounds. The thing Avery used on you makes the injuries cursed so that they can't be treated the wizarding way."

"How did you know that it was Avery who did this to me?" asked Malfoy slowly, fixing Harry with a suspicious gaze.

"Snape. He recognised the pattern, something like that."

The uncertainty was gone from Malfoy's face. "Oh. All right. Listen, how long do these...stitches...take to heal?"

Harry shrugged. "Depends on the injury, I suppose. I never had to get them. The Dursleys preferred for me to bleed."

* * *

"Draco has awakened, Severus?" questioned the old wizard, peering at Severus over his half-moon spectacles. The flames around his head and beard flickered every so often, casting shadows on the fireplace behind him. "I trust he is all right?"

"Yes, Headmaster. Poppy is looking over his...erm...stitches...now." Severus slumped in his chair as he spoke to Dumbledore, crossing his ankles and lacing his fingers together on his stomach. "He should be fine just in time for school."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, beaming as he looked over his shoulder briefly. When he looked back at the Potions Master, his expression was sombre and he spoke in a low murmur. "Severus, I need you to contact Remus at headquarters. Tell him that it is safe to leave tomorrow."

"Where is he going?" Severus asked curiously. Though he knew most of his fellow member's missions, Lupin leaving was something he hadn't heard of.

"I don't want to risk anything here at the Ministry, not with Fudge standing just a short distance away. Just tell him that it's safe."

Severus bit back a sigh, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers into his eyelids. "I will, Headmaster. Is there anything else you need?"

"A warm cup of tea?" Severus shot the older man a dark glare. Dumbledore chuckled, looking over his shoulder again. "Well, I must be going now, Severus. Enjoy your night."

"You too, Headmaster."

As soon as Dumbledore's head vanished from the flames, Severus was heading for the door, fumbling with the clasp on his cloak and keeping a firm grip on his wand. A few minutes later, he was ringing the doorbell to number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the werewolf demanded as he opened the door, letting Severus in and shutting the door behind him. "The next meeting isn't for awhile--or is it something about Harry?"

"Potter is fine, Lupin," said Severus coldly. He waved his hand at the chandelier above his head, and the candles lit. "But when I contacted Dumbledore to tell him of what Draco learned during the meeting, he told me to pass on a message to you."

"All right," Lupin said, crossing his arms across his chest, shivering in the chilly corridor. "What is it?"

"Something about how it's safe for you to leave tomorrow. He wouldn't tell me anything else."

Lupin's annoyed expression turned grim. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair anxiously, exhaling slowly. "Bugger."

Severus waited a moment. When Lupin didn't elaborate on the details, he said impatiently, "Well?"

"I'm going to speaking with members of the O.W.E," said Lupin slowly, shifting his feet.

"O.W.E..." Severus murmured, gnawing on the corner of his lip as he thought. "I've read about them...Organization for Werewolf Equality, correct?"

"Yes," said Lupin tersely.

"I've been to some of their meetings, the Dark Lord ordered me to go a couple months after his return...It was some really dark stuff, all about how they plan on attacking relatives of important members of the Ministry. They're on his side, aren't they?"

"Yes," Lupin repeated. He had steadily grown pale throughout their conversation, something Severus had just noticed. "As I am a werewolf, I am eligible to join." He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect. "I can give the Order information of their plans once I'm a member. The man who basically recruited me knows one of your fellow Death Eaters."

"Though my 'fellow Death Eaters' are sick, twisted people, we do not befriend animals," Severus sneered, lifting his head up in a such an arrogant way that Lucius Malfoy would be proud. Lupin's face flushed a light shade of pink at the comment, but he continued:

"One of the new ones, not good enough to be in the inner circle. The intern of Voldemort's business, I suppose." Severus winced as the Dark Lord's name was spoken, willing his arm not to twitch. "He's a werewolf, but he didn't join the O.W.E. He's apparently 'too busy moving up in the ranks'."

"Such dedication," said Severus sarcastically. "So, you're going to join this O.W.E group, bring a couple animals back here to an Order meeting, and have more news on what the Dark Lord plans to do with werewolves?"

Lupin nodded. "I attempted to last year, but they did not find me worthy. I have worked for Dumbledore before in the past, and they didn't appreciate that. So I travelled along with them to various meetings, gaining their respect."

"Dumbledore has gotten more cautious," said Severus quietly. "He is not informing everyone of other people's missions."

"He doesn't want another Pettigrew," snapped Lupin. His flush had grown darker, and he was clenching his hands. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack a bag so I can leave after breakfast. The sooner I leave, the better."

"What about Potter?" Severus blurted out as Lupin turned on his heel. At his words, the werewolf looked back at him with a strange expression on his face.

"What about Harry?"

"Well, aren't you going to say goodbye to him?"

Lupin continued to stare at him. It was slightly unnerving, and Severus found himself shifting uncomfortably at the gaze. Finally, the other man spoke.

"Since when have you cared about Harry?" Lupin asked softly. "You have despised him ever since the first time you saw him, and certainly haven't been fair to him at Hogwarts. You practically refused to teach him those Occlumency lessons, and what little you did resulted in Sirius's death. And now, this summer, you're teaching him Occlumency, giving him duelling tips, and telling him about Lily?"

"People change," said Severus gruffly, but he had no idea what he was talking about. Every word Lupin had spoken was true; why had he been doing this?

"Not you, Severus. You never changed." Lupin's voice rang in such a way that it made Severus feel like they were students again, exchanging insults across the corridors. "You've always been cold, bitter, and hateful. And now you've been spending so much time with Harry. Why?"

"I don't know!" Severus exclaimed. "I really don't know, Lupin!"

"If you've been fucking him, Severus, I swear to God--"

"We've been over this! I am not doing...that...with Potter!"

"Then why are you giving him all your attention?"

Severus paused, breathing heavily as he tried to think of an answer. The only one that came to mind was one he didn't really want to share with Lupin, but the other man was looking at him with such distaste that he had to tell him...

"Potter has...grown up," he began weakly. "When he first arrived at Hogwarts, he was somewhat arrogant and annoying. But after the events of last year,"--Lupin's expression flickered, but he kept the hard mask on--"he's changed. He trusts me, Lupin. Me. I'm the terrifying Potions Master who has made his life a living hell. Yet he still trusts me, and continues to at this very moment. I don't know why, Lupin, but he--he reminds me off Lily."

There. He had finally said it.

"And," Severus continued uncertainly, "I miss her. Having Potter around used to make my heart ache. But it doesn't anymore."

Lupin's expression softened slightly. "You know, I always thought there was something going on between you two...I could always smell you on her."

"I know."

Lupin exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, Severus. I've been overreacting to everything this summer--"

"Lupin, shut up."

The other man smiled faintly.

"All right. Hang on a minute, I'll go pack my bag. Go tell Harry I'll be talking to him in a few minutes."

* * *

Harry awoke to someone prodding their hand into the his cheek, while whispering, "Wake up, boy, wake up!"

Harry didn't bother to think about who could be sitting beside his bed. Instincts took over his common sense. He grabbed the hand and bent four fingers back so they snapped, and reached for his wand. There was a sharp hiss of pain from the person beside his bed, but the hand moved from his cheek to his neck. Harry choked as the fingers tightened, making his glasses fall crookedly onto his chest. His wand was useless on the floor, rolling away to the wall. He attempted to struggle against the hand, squeezing his eyes shut in his effort.

"Harry, you idiot!" the voice wheezed. Harry's eyes snapped open to see Snape, sitting on a chair beside his bed and gripping his neck; not hard enough to suffocate him, but not exactly gentle either. Harry stopped striking the hand, and Snape let go. Pain was visible in his eyes as he inspected his hand.

"I think you've broken my middle and ring finger."

Harry shrunk back into his pillows, awaiting the outburst and promised points to be taken away once term started. However, Snape continued to examine his fingers, wincing. He looked up at Harry, shaking his head.

"Lupin should be arriving in a couple of minutes. He's leaving on a mission for the Order tomorrow morning--well, actually, since it's after midnight, so he's leaving in an hour or two." Snape withdrew his wand and applied it to his broken fingers, flinching as the bones healed themselves.

Confounded by the sudden change of subject, Harry continued to stare at Snape with the growing abyss in his stomach. He had just broken bones. With his hand. Brute strength he hadn't known he had. Harry shivered.

The door opened. Remus's head poked around it, and he slid into the room with a wary eye at the sleeping boy in the other bed. Snape stood up and left the room with no comment. Remus took his empty seat.

"Harry, I'm leaving in a couple of hours."

"A mission for the Order," Harry stated. Remus nodded.

"I'm going to be joining a powerful, anti-Ministry werewolf group called the O.W.E, or The Organization for Werewolf Equality. They believe in what Voldemort's doing, and have since his first rise to power. I'm going to be joining this group, and provide information to the Order about their plans so we can protect potential victims."

"For how long?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.

Remus shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"But--will I be able to see you? Will I be able to owl you?"

"No, you won't be able to write to me," said Remus, shaking his head. "That'll be too dangerous, especially with Voldemort gaining more power and Fudge growing more and more blind."

"You avoided my first question."

Remus inhaled deeply. Harry knew the answer even before the words left the other man's mouth.

"Harry, you probably won't see me for about five months," he said gently. The bag had slipped off his shoulder, and it lay on the floor. "It'll be difficult, I know, because there won't be anyone to talk to--"

"There's Ron and Hermione."

Remus fixed him with a gaze. "I mean talk, Harry. You used to write to S-Sirius about what was going on at Hogwarts, if you were having fights with Ron or Hermione...Girl troubles...?"

"Parental advice," Harry said quietly. Remus nodded, biting his lip.

"Yes. You won't be able to do that. I can't risk having any owls coming in, besides ones the group has already approved."

"But what if you fall in too deep?" Harry demanded. "What if you get in too far, and you try to back out, and they kill you? What if you refuse to do something for them, and they kill you? What if the Ministry catches you? What if--?"

"Harry!"

He stopped abruptly, somewhat embarrassed by his rambling. Remus brushed his hair away from his eyes, allowing Harry to see his guardian clearly. It was an oddly comforting gesture.

"Harry, I don't know if I will come back," said Remus softly. "That's why I came to tell you myself. You need to know that I may not come back at all."

"But--" Harry began, though he knew that he was beginning to fight a losing battle. He shut his mouth, blinked tears out of his eyes, and wrapped his arms around his guardian's neck in a hug. Remus returned it fiercely, and Harry buried his head in the other's neck. They remained in their embrace for a long time, until Remus pulled away and picked up his bag.

"Goodbye, Harry," said Remus tenderly, ruffled his hair, then stood up and left. Harry watched him leave until he couldn't hear him any longer. He let his head drop into his hands, tears dripping down his cheeks.

He cried for a long time.