Raised to the Third Power

"Professor Black, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office as soon as possible," a prefect wearing the colors of Hufflepuff House announced almost as soon as Sirius returned to Hogwarts with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Thank you. I'll go now," he replied quickly. He decided that it would be best if he did not speak to Harry and his friends right away. He was still furious with them for doing magic outside of their school; and he was still more furious with himself for not supervising them more closely. At the last possible moment, though, Sirius called for Harry to join him. They stood facing one another in the deserted corridor.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," said Harry instantly.

Sirius studied his godson. The apology was obviously sincere. "So am I," Sirius admitted. Honesty, he had learned over the past eight months, worked wonders on Harry. Harry gave Sirius a questioning look this time, however, so Sirius was forced to continue. "I'm the adult here," he explained. "I shouldn't have left you unsupervised when I was the one who pulled strings to get you out of safety in the first place. I nearly got you killed because I forgot how young you all are. You've been shielded from the war even though you're on the front lines."

Harry said nothing in reply, and Sirius internally reminded himself that he had promised to head directly to Dumbledore's office. He told Harry as much.

"Bye, Sirius," Harry said obediently. There was no regret in Harry's voice, nor was there any outpouring of affection. Harry was prone to impulsively hugging Sirius when no one was looking (Ron and Hermione surely did not count, and they were paying no attention to Harry and Sirius at the moment, anyway); but this time Harry simply said goodbye, rather flatly, as if his mind was on other subjects already.

That's how it should be Sirius reminded himself.

"See you later, Harry." Harry did not ask, as he tended to, how much later he would see Sirius. Sirius told himself that he did not mind this omission, and that Harry probably understood that Sirius himself did not know whether he would be spending that night in the castle or off on some Dumbledore-ordered quest.

Harry left, and Sirius set off once more for Dumbledore's office, hoping that Dumbledore did not know why he had come back early or what Harry's last action in Muggle London had been.

"Sirius. You're early," though, were Dumbledore's first words when Sirius appeared in his office. The office was filled with the usual collection of faculty members, aurors, and eccentrics who were implicitly trusted by the headmaster. Sirius nodded and took his place with the rest, catching Remus' eye from across the room as he did so.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "the Death Eater presence is still strong in the Forbidden Forest. We have information that suggests there will be a complete meeting tonight, but we do not suspect the school or the Ministry to come under attack. There will be no other attacks around the country if the Death Eaters are indeed all with Lord Voldemort." Many of the witches and wizards in the room winced at Dumbledore's use of the name. "This is in all likelihood the calm before the storm. Something is being planned. Do your best to discern what that might be. Do not let your guards down. Does anyone else have anything to say?"

Severus Snape stood up. "Headmaster, there is a potion in my office--" Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "Go. Thank you, Severus."

Severus left the room as quickly as he could. He momentarily allowed himself the pleasure of gripping his throbbing, burning arm. The Dark Lord wanted his Death Eaters to gather, and he wanted them to gather now.

He ran through the dungeons to the hidden door that had served as his exit since the worlds of Hogwarts and Death Eating had collided for the second time. The spell that protected the door was partially disabled.

Severus drew his wand and glanced around warily.

"It was me, Sir," Draco said, stepping out from the shadows just before his professor attempted to hex him.

Severus had expected as much. Draco had been initiated directly into the Dark Lord's Inner Circle on the day of his sixteenth birthday. Lucius Malfoy had volunteered Severus' services to the Dark Lord as the one who would make sure that the youngest Death Eater would find his way to any meetings held during the school year while Hogwarts was under a lockdown spell.

"I'll teach you the spell you need later," Severus assured Draco hastily. And I'll change it right after I teach you he thought to himself. Draco was young and had not yet chosen his path. Severus could not compromise the castle's safety by giving Draco access to an entrance that could be used by a hoard of Death Eaters intent on murdering Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Draco had never taken any action truly worthy of a hard-line Death Eater; but neither had he ever suggested in no uncertain terms that he planned to forgo his father, his servants, and his state for a life such as that that Severus led.

Severus and Draco ran to the forest. It was impossible to Disapparate from inside Hogwarts, and the meeting place was too close to Hogwarts grounds to justify Draco's attempting the risky spell before he was of age.

"THE YOUNGEST DEATH EATER!" Lucius announced proudly when his son took his place beside him.

Severus, for his part, slunk virtually unnoticed into his place in the circle. Across the circle, Severus could see David Avery's scowl. He had held the position of "youngest Death Eater" for almost a year. Severus had held the position himself, once, and he understood that it was a meaningful title to the one who carried it. The younger Avery, though, was looking particularly vindictive. Severus had attended Hogwarts with the senior Avery. The two had been friends, as both had been members of Slytherin House, but Severus had never been under any illusions as to Avery's sanity. He had been cruel in ways that had shocked even Severus, although Severus would never have admitted such a thing to anyone. Avery had never been jailed for his Dark activity because he had claimed to have acted under the Imperius Curse. The Ministry had been willing to believe him; surely no one would voluntarily, personally do the things that Avery had done. Forcing someone else to do them was more believable.

David Avery, then, who had been a small baby when the first war had ended, had never gone to school with other wizards. His father could not afford to look as if he favored Dark magic by sending the child to Durmstrang; and he could not bear the thought of sending the child to study with Albus Dumbledore. Thus, the child had been taught almost entirely by his father and had never wanted anything out of life but to be a Death Eater. He had worked hard to ingratiate himself to Lucius, who was nearly twice the age of his father. Now, though, Lucius' own son had arrived and young David was resentful twice over.

"DAVID AVERY!" Lucius now bellowed. "Patrol the edge of the forest. See that no one who should not be here is present. Take Flint with you. Report to Macnair at the guard post if you see a problem." Avery nodded, and he and Flint left the circle together. Flint had nearly been expelled from the Dark Lord's services after that winter's unfortunate events surrounding Percy Weasley. However, he was a recent Hogwarts graduate and as such could provide a unique set of skills to the Dark Lord. Still, he was never allowed to take on any task which required real responsibility.

Lucius cast an eavesdropping charm at the retreating backs of the young men. Those standing in the circle would be able to hear-- and viciously mock-- every word that was spoken.

The circle was silent for several moments, and even then the silence was broken only by a barely-audible swear. Severus was not certain that he had heard anything at all.

Apparently, though, Flint had heard something. "Did you hear that?" he asked aloud, as if he was attempting to give warning to whomever or whatever he was tracking.

"Yeah." Avery agreed. "Shut up," he added wisely. Sometimes, Severus could not help but like David Avery. It was not his fault that he had a one-track mind and a very tenuous grasp on reality.

After several long moments of complete silence in the circle, Flint spoke again. "Must've been some animal."

"Animals aren't invisible," Avery corrected in a withering, long-suffering sort of a way.

"Some are!" Flint protested indignantly. "Like demiguises!" Severus snorted to himself. Which of Hogwarts' esteemed Defense Against the Dark Arts professors had actually managed to drill that gem of information into Flint's thick skull? Probably the werewolf. Severus scowled.

"Are we in the Far East?" asked Avery. He seemed to be losing his patience, not that Severus could blame him.

"We're far East of somewhere!" There was much rolling of eyes and speaking of derogatory comments within the circle. Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Death Eaters seemed to be nodding in agreement, however.

"Come on." From the shuffling of leaves and the brushing of branches, it sounded as if Avery was dragging Flint away. "We have to report to Macnair," he whispered after the two must have traveled a safe distance from the location of questionable safety.

The next sounds Severus and the others were able to here were those of Avery tersely conversing with Macnair and then hiding himself in the forest's always-thick, sometimes-deadly foliage.

Several Death Eaters began to hold their breath. They did not have to hold it long.

"You were right," said Macnair in a very cool way.

At the same time, Avery cried in a way not at all becoming a Death Eater "I was right!"

"This is not the time to gloat!" Macnair reprimanded. "We'll take them in alive!"

The Dark Lord appeared inside the circle with a pop. The Death Eaters fell to their knees. "Rise," the Dark Lord commanded at once.

Severus had been so focused on the arrival of the Dark Lord that he nearly missed the next words that sounded over the charm, shouted though they were: "NOT BLOODY LIKELY!" Severus clenched his teeth. He knew that voice. He had to tell that voice to shut up at least twice a week. If Ron Weasley was outside the castle, than so was the Boy Who Lived.

If the Boy Who Lived got himself killed despite the best efforts of every qualified wizard in this part of the world . . . Severus scowled and did not finish his thought.

Flint had begun to shout spells. It did not seem as if any of them were landing. Severus had already heard Hermione Granger's voice in the din behind Flint, but thus far Flint's opponent had not spoken. Don't keep us in suspense he thought dryly and angrily.

Flint grew silent as well. Flint's silence allowed Severus to hear still more of Avery's battle with Granger. The Muggle-born fifteen-year-old was winning. Being an insufferable know-it-all obviously had its perks.

The battle between Avery and Granger was drowned out by what sounded almost like an explosion. Branches crackled. Had a tree fallen down? Been knocked down? Flint began to yell spells once more.

"Come up here, why don't you?" a voice at last responded. Severus fought to keep himself from closing his eyes in fear and resignation. Flint was indeed involved in a thus far one-sided duel with Harry Potter. He could see from the posture of the others in the circle that they had recognized Harry's voice as well. Triumph filled the air, though it mingled with anxiety. Flint was not the finest duelist in the ranks of the Dark Lord's army.

"You are not in a position to give orders!" Flint answered rather petulantly. Flint, like every Quidditch player who had passed through Slytherin House in recent years, rather detested Potter first because of his innate Quidditch ability and second for everything else.

"It was just a suggestion," said Potter innocently. He followed his comment with several hexes. He must have connected on one, because Flint grunted. "Of course, if you're too frightened to come up here . . . ." Potter was gleefully challenging his opponent. He must feel confident; but then, he always seemed to feel confident. Something always fell out of the sky to help the Boy Who Lived continue his literally and figuratively charmed life.

"Frightened? You're the one who should be afraid of heights. You can't even stay on your stupid broom." Severus had been right. Flint was thinking more about Quidditch than about the battle between Light and Dark magic. He was bringing up an incident which had occurred in Hogwarts' Quidditch competition more than two years earlier.

"YOU CAN'T RUN AWAY!" Flint shouted next. Severus was rather sure that Potter was too stupid to do something so clever as run away.

"WOULDN'T IT BE EMBARASSING IF I DID?" Potter yelled back, confirming Severus' suspicions. Potter then shouted out a leg-locker curse. Flint began to swear, and in seconds the duel was over.

Lucius began to bellow out orders. No one had expected Potter, Weasley, and Granger to fair so well in their fights. "We'll take them in ourselves, if Macnair can't handle it! Crabbe, Goyle, with me!"

"Good, Malfoy," growled the Dark Lord in a low voice. He had not yet moved.

Severus returned his attention to the eavesdropping charm. He could, after all, do nothing else, not while he was standing directly in the Dark Lord's line of sight.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Granger and Weasley had somehow managed to rid themselves of Macnair. They had had very few dueling lessons in their Hogwarts careers, and Severus could not fathom a way that they would survive the onslaught of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"'MINEY, DUCK!" Weasley bellowed frantically. Reinforcements had obviously arrived.

After several interminable moments of dueling, the Dark Lord's posture grew angry. "I shall do this myself. Remain at attention," he commanded, and then Disapparated.

Soon his voice sounded not in the circle but over the charm: "We meet again." And then, "You expect that I am as easy to confuse as your previous opponent?" They must have been moving nearer Flint's prone form, for their words became easier to make out.

"You did teach him," Potter answered. He had apparently never been told that baiting the Dark Lord was a Very Bad Idea.

And after that, they drifted out of the charm's range. Potter must have had some trick up his sleeve, though, because with a sudden snap, the hidden stockpiles of weapons and illegal magical objects became visible for an instant. The ground seemed to shake the slightest bit as well. It appeared that the Dark Lord had briefly lost control of the spells that surrounded "his" part of the forest; but such an occurrence was inconceivable.

Lucius had obviously come to the same conclusion as Severus, because he ordered Crabbe and Goyle to leave off throwing spells at a now-struggling Weasley and Granger and return with him to the circle.

"Where's Harry?" Granger cried breathlessly. Apparently, her fondest wish still involved getting herself killed.

"MAGNES!" Weasley shouted in response. Severus raised his eyebrows. Had they actually mastered a loyalty oath? If so, why did they not do better in their Potions lessons?

"CERTUS!" Granger shouted in turn.

"Can that help him from here?" Weasley asked as their voices receded.

"I don't know, but we'll use everything we've got, right?"

Weasley's agreement was drowned out by the arrival of Lucius. "Get in the storehouse! Now!" he ordered, and the assembled Death Eaters hastened to obey. "The spells are failing! We'll be able to reinforce them best from the inside."

And we'll likely get ourselves killed! Severus thought but was wise enough not to say. He had been close to death often enough to know better than to show his cards under any circumstances.

"What about Macnair?" asked Crabbe. "He's out there, alive. If we take over the spells, he could die from the shockwaves."

"So could my SON!" bellowed Avery. "But I'm not wasting my time playing hero and trying to find him! If he's meant to live, he'll live. If he dies, he'll be proud to die, a martyr to the True Cause! A soldier of the Dark Lord's army!"

Lucius shouted his approval at Avery's speech, and Severus saw Draco, who had removed his hood and mask upon entering the small and usually invisible structure, turn pale.

Lucius was too much in his element to notice his son's reaction. He enjoyed the thrill of power and command, and he was barking orders at the other Death Eaters almost more quickly than the other Death Eaters could follow them. The entire circle-- no longer standing in a circle, of course-- worked with the efficiency that can only be achieved by those fearing for their lives.

The Dark Lord had surrounded the section of the forest that had become his fortress with protective spells and concealing spells that rivaled those used at Hogwarts. He had mimicked the processes which his old nemesis, Albus Dumbledore, used to keep Hogwarts safe. Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were the two most powerful wizards of the modern age. They were in all likelihood the only two wizards living who were capable of controlling so many spells indefinitely

Unbeknownst to the Dark Lord, Minerva McGonagall had been known to take over control of the Hogwarts spells for short periods of time. In the event of Dumbledore's murder, for Severus was certain that no natural cause would ever take the great man's life, McGonagall would take up the spells almost instantaneously, and she would hold onto them until a course of action had been decided upon.

The Dark Lord did not have the sort of faith in Lucius Malfoy that Albus Dumbledore had in Minerva McGonagall. Furthermore, though he would never admit such a thing, Lucius did not have the depth or breadth of power that Minerva did. The Dark Lord also considered the possibility that he might cease to live only rarely. In the case of his demise, he hardly cared what happened to his followers. His followers were rather expected to remain loyal to the end and die with their leader.

Lucius, though, had no intention of doing any such thing. Severus could have predicted as much; in fact, he had predicted as much. Lucius loved power in any form, and he was not going to give up his status as Lord of the Manor simply because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had at last met his match. He could find new ways to be vindictive; he could find new ways to intimidate and increase his fortune; he could even father a new heir should Draco be lost in this unfortunate skirmish. He could not replace his own life.

One by one, the Death Eaters unthreaded the conglomeration of spells that the Dark Lord had been controlling. It was easy to pull a small spell from his power and whisper "finite incantantem." That done, the chance that an entire section of the Forbidden Forest would explode, and that the people inside it would be trapped by the anti-Apparation spells that were always the last to fall apart, lessened.

Lucius was beginning to sweat. I would not have thought it possible Severus thought with something of a smirk as he continued to untie spells. These magic tricks took a great deal of energy out of some of the Death Eaters-- thick Crabbe and Goyle, and old, stooped Nott-- but they were second nature to Severus. He had learned the requisite magic by age twelve.

"SEVERUS!" Lucius now bellowed.

"Lucius?" asked Severus innocently, enjoying the image of calm he was able to project when everyone else was panicking. If he was to die, he would die on his own terms, thank you very much.

"Can you reinforce the Magpro spell?"

Lucius must not have any faith in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now Severus thought wryly. "Yes," he answered.

He had never reinforced a 'Magpro' spell in his life. No one had. The spell did not even have a proper name. 'Magpro' was a combination of 'Magnes,' the spell which most believed the Dark Lord had adapted to summon his Death Eaters, and 'promise,' because all Death Eaters promised their loyalty and magic to the Dark Lord. The 'Magpro' spell allowed a weakened Dark Lord to drain the magical energy of his followers.

Severus began to concentrate on one of the many innocuous-looking objects (the petrified head of a unicorn with the wand that had killed it clenched in its teeth) in the room that was actually a spell filter. He whispered several spells under his breath.

"That's working! That's working!" Lucius cried in delight.

Severus felt a surge of Dark Magic rush through him. No magic felt this strong; no magic other than Avada Kedavra. The Dark Lord must have tried to cast the spell again.

Here's hoping it was Granger or Weasley and not Potter Severus thought.

Then his hand slipped and he cut whatever power the Dark Lord was pulling through the 'Magpro.'

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?" Lucius cried angrily.

Wouldn't you like to know. "Do you want to try it?" Severus asked dangerously.

Lucius had no opportunity to respond, because bright blasts of green and orange light began to fill the air.

"KEEP WORKING!" Lucius commanded.

"WE SHOULD BE RUNNING!" someone yelled in protest.

Severus decided that this might be an excellent time to show his true colors. As if reading his thoughts, Lucius rounded on Severus.

"FIX THAT!"

"I can't."

"Can't or won't, you Mudblood-loving--"

Severus raised his wand.

"WHY AREN'T WE RUNNING?" a voice yelled once more. Several Death Eaters took advantage of Lucius' distraction to do just that.

"WILL YOU THROW YOURSELF ON DUMBLEDORE'S MERCY?" Avery roared after them. The only way to get away from the explosions without first destroying all of the Dark Lord's spells would be to head towards Hogwarts grounds and face capture at the hands of the aurors who were staying there.

Lucius raised his wand.

"If you want to restore the Magpro spell, I suggest you point your wand somewhere other than at me," Severus stated coolly.

"Our Lord never should have let you off as easily as he did when he punished you last!" Lucius snapped. "Avery!"

"Yes?"

"Help me with this! Now!"

"We can't fix it. Our best chance is to leave," Severus interrupted, not certain as to why he was not anxious to leave Lucius, who had long been a thorn in his side, here to die. Avery at least had been a childhood friend, not that Severus put any stock in childhood friendships.

Lucius and Avery ignored him, one mad with the desire for power and the other mad in general. The other Death Eaters who had not fled continued at their tasks rigidly, mechanically.

"Draco!" Severus commanded as if he were in the Slytherin Common Room and demanding a report from one of his prefects.

"Sir?" Draco's voice was shaking, and so were his hands.

"Come with me."

"Don't do it, Draco," Lucius reprimanded without looking up. Then he turned his attention to Severus. "Do you plan to throw yourself on Dumbledore's mercy again, as well?"

"Yes," said Severus nonchalantly. For all of Severus' adult life, his survival had depended on his ability to shape the way the rest of the world perceived him. His image would be severely damaged by his sprinting away from the storehouse; nonetheless, this was exactly what he was about to do. The world seemed to shudder.

"Draco!" Severus commanded again.

"I can't," said a voice that did not sound as if it belonged to Hogwarts' resident confident fifth-year.

Severus turned and ran toward the place where the Dark Lord must be at battle with Potter.

He was thrown to his knees when a giant orange fireball erupted behind him where the invisible storehouse had once stood.

It did not take a genius (although Severus was a genius) to know that those who had remained inside had been killed. If the shock of the first explosion had not killed them, the spilling of toxic poisons and the loosing of dangerous creatures surely had.

Severus pulled himself back to his feet and continued running. He had obviously headed in the right direction; nearby was the tree which he had heard fall.

Then he grasped another tree for support. Lying on the ground was the all-powerful wizard whose name most feared to say.

Lying several feet away, limbs entangled in an unruly way, were Potter, Weasley, and Granger.

He steeled himself to step forward and inspect the carnage.