Redemption

Chapter Thirty-Five:

Heero had left the others not long ago. Duo was still acting quiet sullen, and Quatre was getting a little annoyed. Wufei had given up several hours ago and had probably disappeared up to Gryffindor Tower.

Now, Heero waited in the Headmaster's office, looking around with veiled interest. His eyes came to rest on the same bird that had burst into flames a few nights ago. Now, there were several promising patches of scarlet and golden plumage covering the leathery skin.

The bird stared back at him, its head cocked to the side. It opened its mouth, and Heero was expecting a feeble chirp, but instead, a beautiful, heartening melody issued forth. Instantly Heero felt uplifted, something he wasn't familiar with. He stared at the bird in wonder, amazed that such a greeting had come from this seemingly weak animal.

It jumped from the perch and flew towards him, its wings already fully covered in feather. Settling on the arm of his chair, it bowed its head. Bemused, Heero laid a hand on the crown of its head, scratching around the few feathers there.

"It seems that you have made a friend," Dumbledore's warm voice informed him. "Fawks is not easily impressed, but tonight, you have found in him an ally."

Sparing one last smile for the phoenix, Heero turned his eyes to Dumbledore. "Headmaster," he said, inclining his head.

Dumbledore walked around his desk and seated himself in the high backed chair on the other side. For a moment, the old wizard surveyed Heero over the tips of his fingers, and then he placed them down in the desk. "Down to business, then, is it? My proposal is this: That you are presented to Lord Voldemort as a squib. I assume you know what this means." Heero nodded. "Good, good. Now, I believe that he already knows of the presence of Muggles here in Hogwarts. Therefore, convincing him of your loyalty and identity will not be an easy task. I have devised a cover story that you may wish to employ, but you will need to work with Severus to pull it off."

"What is your plan?" Heero asked, trusting Dumbledore's wisdom for the time being.

"This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, during which Severus is scheduled to meet a Death Eater in the Hogs Head tavern. If you were to position yourself there before Saturday, and manage to be close by during the meeting, afterwards, it would be easy to strike up a conversation with Severus. That way, there would be witnesses to your story should Voldemort wish to confirm. Your hatred of Muggle Born's would naturally crop up in the conversation as you blame your father for your lack of magic. Severus, distrusting Treize Kushrenada, presents you to Voldemort as the perfect spy."

Heero listened silently. The plan seemed good, but there was only one problem. "How would I convince Voldemort that I'm not spying on him? Wouldn't this plan put your man in danger?"

"Severus is constantly in danger, and so will you be. I'm afraid that I cannot guess what tests he would set for you, but I can warn you. Voldemort is fond of pain, and not afraid to kill without a heartbeat's hesitation. If he doesn't believe you, he will probably kill you instantly."

"I know that," Heero replied gruffly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot willingly send you into this without first expressing my grave doubt. To convince Voldemort will no doubt be painful to your body and your soul, and if you do manage that, there is no telling what he will ask you to do."

"I'm prepared to do what I must, Professor Dumbledore. I've been trained to risk my life. I'm not afraid of pain or death, especially not if I can help save this world." Heero felt vaguely numb. He knew that those words had been lies. He was very much afraid, but he would still face them.

"You are a brave young man, Mr. Yuy. Perhaps if I had been as brave as you, I could have stopped Voldemort a long time ago when he was still Tom Riddle." A sad look coming to his eyes, Dumbledore seemed to stare through Heero's eyes into his soul. "Is the proposal satisfactory?" he asked eventually.

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. I will arrange transportation for you on Friday ni-"

"I would prefer to leave as early as possible, sir. Tonight if it can be done." Heero didn't want to wait around. If he got to the tavern earlier he could get a feel for the surroundings and make sure he was seen.

Dumbledore frowned, but he didn't argue. "Of course, Mr. Yuy. I will arrange for it. Gather together what you wish to take, but remember that you are no longer a Muggle, but a squib."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Heero inclined his head again, laid his hand to the phoenix's head once more, and then departed.

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Dumbledore watched the youth leave, not startled when Severus' voice drifted down from his office. "Are you sure about this, Headmaster? He's only a boy."

"He is no more a boy than you are, Severus. However, I am more worried about this than anything else. He seemed quite anxious to leave here as soon as possible. I had expected him to savor what time he could spare with his friends. It is not healthy for anyone to cut themselves off so effectively."

"Is that a hint?" Snape asked dryly.

"Take it how you like, Severus." [2]

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Harry sat in the Gryffindor locker room. He felt partly miserable, but also quite enraged. The whole day had been overshadowed by his meeting with Snape. He hadn't seen any of the others since Hermione left Potions so he'd made his way down to the showers early. It had been a long day and he'd felt that a nice, long, hot shower was just what he needed before training. Having toweled off and pulled on some Muggle clothes to practice in, he was waiting for the rest of the team to show up.

Finally, Andrew Kirk sidled in. He had been one of the replacement beaters last year when Fred and George were banned.

"Heya, Harry," he said with a little wave.

"Hi," Harry answered.

"Hey Harry!" The shout drew his attention back to the doorway. "What the hell did you say to Snape?" Ginny demanded. "He was absolutely ROTTEN during Potions this afternoon. I know you saw him before lunch, so what did you do?"

"Oh, the usual. I think what really pissed him off was when I breathed. He hates that because it reminds him that I'm alive."

Ginny puffed out a breath, no doubt amused, but far too indignant to show it. "He took at least a hundred points from Gryffindor by the end of the class."

Harry groaned. How typical of Snape to take out his anger on a troupe of unsuspecting Gryffindors. They would really have to work hard to earn those points back if they wanted to win the cup again. By the time Christmas Holidays passed, teachers got lazy with handing out house points. "Sorry, Gin. I kind of lost my temper with him. I'll tell you about it later."

"Oh, Snape, how I could hex thee, let me count the ways. Though art as foul as a Mugwort on a summer's day..."

In spite of himself, Harry chuckled. "Shakespeare? Let me guess, Hermione?"

Grinning, Ginny pulled her shoulder length hair back into a ponytail. "Of course. She leant me a book of his most famous works. He certainly knew a lot about fairies and magic that man. There was a lot of accurate spell work in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Even Macbeth was fairly on the trot. I wonder if he knew any wizards."

"Who?" asked Ron having just arrived with Seamus, the other beater, and Dennis Creevey, one of the new chasers.

"William Shakespeare," Harry told him.

"That Muggle playwright?" Seamus had ignored Harry so far, determined not to look at him, but now he paused.

Dennis nodded. "My mother once told me that his brother was a wizard."

When Lavender Brown, the last chaser, finally showed up, they made their way out onto the pitch.

By the time they got outside it was spitting. Random droplets of rain falling around them. Just to be sure, Harry took off his glasses, tapped them, and muttered, "Impervious."

The session kicked off with some drills, passing the Quaffle back and forth on the spot to get warmed up, then, they continued the exercise whilst flying. Andrew and Seamus used their beaters bats to hit it to their team mates, working on aim. Lavender only dropped the Quaffle once, and, although it once hit Dennis squarely in the face after a solid whack from Seamus, they all managed to dodge and catch most of the two beaters passes.

When Ron let the snitch out, the rain decided to kick it up a notch, driving down in a sheet and making almost impossible to see through it. Ron, always the optimist when it came to Quiditch, pointed out that it was good practice for foul-weather games. Harry, on the other hand, though it was good practice for catching a cold. He searched around halfheartedly, wishing he was up in the warm tower with a steaming cup of hot cocoa.

That was when he noticed two figures in the distance heading towards Hagrid's hut. One had a sack slung over his shoulder.

Pulling up beside Ginny, he pointed them out. She looked around, squinting through the moisture on her lashes. "One of them is definitely Snape. I think the other might be... Heero... I think he's leaving... Look! Hagrid's leading him to the edge of the forest. What's he - Harry, is that a Thestral?"

Harry squinted, too, then turned to Ginny, shocked. "You see it?"

"Yeah... Sirius..."

He looked into her eyes for a moment, then forced his attention back to Heero.

"Oi! What are you two doing?" Ron called, zooming down towards them.

"Wait a second, Ron, I think Heero's leaving... Hey, remember what he said the other day?" Harry turned back to Ginny. "He said that he would continue on his 'mission', but he never said what that was. We know that Snape is spying on Voldemort... Do you think-?"

"I hope not," Ginny whispered, an uncomfortable expression on her face.

"Surely not." Looking entirely skeptical, Ron pulled up in front of them. "Dumbledore wouldn't let a kid go join You Know Who. Come one, back to training."

As he shared an exasperated glance with Ginny, Harry went into a dive and began to search for the snitch again. Though, as he looked around, he couldn't help wondering... He wasn't so sure that anyone could class Heero as a kid, and considering the sorts of things Dumbledore had let Harry himself do, well, it wasn't very reassuring. He'd have to mention what he'd seen to Wufei.

Catching a dull glint near the Ravenclaw stands, Harry put on a burst of speed, keen to get this awful training session over with. He wanted to be dry. Warm, and dry.

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[2] *smacks all you hentai's out there.