The 25th of December

24 December

"I wonder, Harry," Voldemort muses as he slowly circles Remus, "how much will you be able to endure?"

"Leave him alone," Harry croaks. Voldemort halts his meandering circuit around Remus.

"So little?" he asks in surprise. "I have not even touched him, and already you ask me to stop." Voldemort gazes thoughtfully at Harry. "I wonder..." he muses as he rotates his hand so that his wand is pointing at Remus. "Crucio." It is a mere suggestion, but Remus begins to convulse.

Remus falls to his knees; he is screaming. Snape's hands are limp by his sides now.

"No!" Harry whispers, unable to shout. He tries to tear his arms away from his captors' hold, but it is no use.

Voldemort looks pleased as Remus writhes on the icy ground; Remus' face is contorted in agony. "Please...stop."

Harry's plea is lost amongst Remus' screams, but Voldemort hears it. He shakes his head.

"So soon?" he mocks. "Whether or not your friend lives or dies is your decision, Harry. How badly do you want him to live?"

In a flash, Voldemort is beside Remus, his familiar blade close to Remus' throat; Remus is no longer screaming; his eyes are on Harry now.

"His flesh is not impervious, Harry," Voldemort says as Remus struggles for breath.

"Stop!"

"Harry..." Remus gasps, "...don't give up-"

The tip of Voldemort's dagger is pressed to Remus' throat. "How long can you stand to see him suffer?" he wonders as he twists the blade a little. A spot of red blooms where steel meets flesh. "Just a bit more Harry, and you'll have killed him as well."

Harry tries desperately to twist his body free. He thrashes until pain radiates through his neck and shoulders.

"Please..." he whispers softly, but this time his plea is for Snape, even though his eyes are still glued to Remus. "I can't let him die..."

He sees Snape's lean body stiffen, and he knows Snape understands.

Harry's stomach wrenches as Snape turns away again so that Harry only sees his profile.

"It is your choice, Harry," Voldemort says quietly; he is stroking his wand with one long, pale finger.

"Don't let him die," Harry begs, but Snape isn't paying attention to him.

Voldemort smiles.

"Harry, no..." Remus says in a strangled voice.

Voldemort raises his wand. Harry stares down the long white point.

Snape....

Harry tries to make the silent supplication penetrate Snape's mind.

Snape closes his eyes.

"Avada Kedavra."

Harry watches the green light coming toward him; it enfolds his body.

He basks in its warmth.

A cry of rage breaks through Harry's peace.

The green light has disappeared, and Voldemort is raising his dagger high above his head.

"No!" Harry screams.

The knife plunges into Remus' throat.

Blood spurts into the air as the artery is severed.

Remus' body convulses several times.

And then he is still.

Voldemort stares into Remus' eyes as they fill with blood.

"This is as you have chosen it," he says sadly when he looks up at Harry again. "I will have to find another. Someone you love more, and then perhaps you will not kill that friend to save your own life."

Harry's lips tremble as he stares at Remus. "I don't care about my own life," he manages to gasp as his chest heaves with grief and exhaustion.

"You are a liar, Harry," Voldemort hisses, his anger revealing itself. He steps forward, kicking up snow as he moves swiftly toward Harry.

His hand connects with Harry's cheek with a solid crack. Harry's head is spun around with the force of it.

He catches a glimpse of Snape's pinched lips.

Snape didn't let me die.

The Death Eaters release their hold and Harry staggers to his knees in the snow; Remus' body is in front of him.

Crimson bleeds in rivulets from Remus' lifeless body.

"I will find the one you love the most," Voldemort promises from somewhere behind Harry, "and then you will watch as I slowly disembowel your friend while he still breathes." He leans in close to Harry's ear now. "I will hear you beg for the end of your life with the next one, Harry."

Harry believes him.

Hermione's face swirls in his mind as a rush of dizziness assaults him. The Weasleys' faces join Hermione's in a haze of orange and freckles...

Remus' face becomes blurry as shadows creep over the edges of Harry's vision.

--

Harry's eyelids flutter open as something soft and icy is pressed against his cheek.

It takes a moment for his eyes to focus, but he already recognizes the sharp lines of Snape's features.

Snape.

"Aguamenti."

Harry's greedy lips take the unexpected water, even as he stares up at Snape in confusion. Maybe his memories are a dream.

"Remus?" he asks when Snape stops the little stream of water; he can barely hear his own voice.

Snape doesn't answer immediately; he carefully presses his cold robes to Harry's cheek. Harry's heartbeat increases its tempo.

"He's..." Harry has to gasp for a breath. "...dead."

"Yes," Snape says, so softly that Harry almost doesn't hear it.

Harry closes his eyes.

"You said..." he chokes out, "...they'd be safe."

He feels the weight of Snape's hand on his chest, as though Snape is trying to steady Harry's breathing with the pressure. Harry opens his eyes.

"Lupin was apprehended during a mission for the Headmaster," Snape tells him, as though tonight's events have not affected him in the least.

Harry's chest rattles as he tries to catch his breath. "You."

He isn't certain what he means to say, but he knows it sounds like an accusation. Snape's eyes reflect the pain in Harry's face.

"There was nothing I could have done."

Harry says nothing. He doesn't want to believe him.

Snape's fingers press into his chest. "It was necessary to play my part when Voldemort ordered me to assist in the search."

Harry wants to sit up; he wants to hit Snape. "You should have tried to save him."

Anger flares in Snape's night-dark eyes. He pulls his hand away abruptly from Harry's chest.

"I could not," he snaps. "Not without revealing my true loyalties, and then who would keep you alive?" he demands.

"I don't want to be kept alive," Harry says, his furious words coming out in a low rasp.

"I know that," Snape hisses. There is more anger in his voice than in Harry's.

"He's going to find them," Harry says. Tears blur Snape's face. "He killed Remus," he gasps. "You let him kill Remus."

Harry clutches frenetically at the front of his jumper as though to pull off the fabric which is suffocating him.

He can't breathe.

Snape's hand immediately closes over Harry's; the grip is painful. "It was the only way to keep you safe." Snape's voice is rough and ragged. "You have a job to do." The plea in Snape's voice is a contrast to his harsh words.

Harry's breathing begins to even out.

"It will be over soon," Snape tells him. "It is nearly the twenty-fifth."

It is difficult to remember why that date is significant. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry can hear Trelawney's' voice: When the sun goes down on the twenty-fifth of December...

Harry struggles to sit up; he wants Snape to understand; he doesn't have enough strength. Snape slides a strong arm under Harry's back.

Harry leans gratefully into Snape's support.

"...enough for the Prophecy," he says with great effort. He holds Snape's gaze--Harry has to make him understand. "...then...don't stop it..."

Harry's breaths are harsh as he waits for Snape to answer.

But Snape doesn't answer.

There isn't any time.

Footsteps crunch in the distance.

Snape's head snaps up. "Be still," he commands. Harry immediately freezes.

He pulls his arm from where it is slung around Harry's ribcage. He is moving quickly, but somehow he manages to prop Harry carefully against the wall before he pushes himself unsteadily to stand. He sways a little.

Harry reaches out a hand but Snape is already steady.

"It is almost over," Snape says again as he reaches down and grips Harry's upper arms. Harry offers no resistance as Snape pulls him up. "You must endure this, Harry," he says in a hard, low voice as the footsteps draw closer. "No matter what he does."

Snape turns Harry around, giving Harry's spinning thoughts no chance to fully process the dark meaning in Snape's words.

The prison door scrapes open; the sound reverberates in Harry's ears.

"The Dark Lord is waiting," Malfoy announces.

"He is weak," Snape says; his voice is full of mocking. "Assist me."

Malfoy looks like he would rather do anything than touch Harry, but he moves forward without a word and digs his fingers into Harry's arm.

"Move, Potter," Snape snarls. Harry's muscles wobble as he tries to obey.

Malfoy's sigh is loud.

"We haven't time for this, Severus. It is nearly midnight," he says impatiently. He jerks Harry's arm toward the exit.

Snape's grip keeps Harry from stumbling.

His feet barely touch the ground as he is pulled across the graveyard where Voldemort waits in his usual place.

Harry cannot look at him.

He watches the newly-fallen snow sparkle in the moonlight.

"Do you know what day it is, Harry?" Voldemort inquires.

Harry knows.

"It is Christmas Eve," Voldemort answers himself. "And in just a few moments," he continues blithely, "it will be Christmas."

Voldemort's voice is closer now; Harry is too tired to look up.

"This is a special day, Harry. Do you know why?"

Voldemort's shadow ends the dancing sparkles.

Harry's chin is jerked up.

"Do you?" Voldemort hisses.

His fingers are crushing Harry's jaw.

"My Death Eaters have brought me a present, Harry," Voldemort says softly. "Would you like to see it?"