Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter James Potter Ron Weasley Remus Lupin Sirius Black
Genres:
Action Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 02/26/2003
Updated: 11/13/2003
Words: 164,724
Chapters: 41
Hits: 101,291

Promises Unbroken

RobinLady

Story Summary:
Sirius Black remained the Secret Keeper and everything he feared came to pass. Ten years later, James and Lily live, Harry attends Hogwarts, and Voldemort remains…welcome to a darker world.

Chapter 10

Chapter Summary:
Sirius Black remained the Secret Keeper and everything he feared came to pass. Ten years later, James and Lily live, Harry attends Hogwarts, and Voldemort remains…welcome to a darker world where nothing is as it seems. {This Chapter: Midnight pranks, mistrust, and aftermath}
Posted:
04/14/2003
Hits:
2,404

Promises Unbroken

Chapter Ten: To Thine Own Self Be True

"Fidem Praestare."

Exhausted, Severus Snape mumbled the password to admit himself to his chambers, wishing, not for the first time, that he could simply key the wards to recognize him and be done with the nonsense of passwords. However, common sense, as usual, won out, and he knew that doing so would allow any fool with a cauldron and a copy of Moste Potente Potions to brew up a batch of Polyjuice Potion and wear his form long enough to enter his chambers--which was the last thing he wanted any bastard doing. He valued his privacy. Unlike most of the Hogwarts professors, he had much to hide.

The doors obliged him and swung open, and Snape tried not to stumble inside. Why he bothered to preserve his dignity here, of all places, he did not know--there was no one to see him, after all. But old habits died hard, and his pride wasn't exactly something he was good at ignoring. A lifetime's worth of mistakes had taught him that, and Severus had no inclination to forget the hard lessons he'd learned over the years. They'd been too painful in the making--with a sigh, he pushed such morbid thoughts out of his head. A quick glance at his clock didn't improve his mood, though; Lovely, he thought to himself. Six hours until my first class. He'd spend it sleeping, of course; breakfast sounded highly unappetizing at the moment. Personal experience told him that trying to eat anytime before he downed an antidote for the Cruciatus curse would guarantee that he saw the food again.

With that charming thought in mind, Severus crossed over to a nearby bookshelf and lifted a silver goblet to his lips, downing the potion in one gulp. Lateness, he reflected, had its disadvantages, no matter what he'd told Quirrell earlier. Voldemort might have been well aware of the reasons why he would often fail to respond precisely when the Dark Lord called, but that didn't mean he accepted those reasons passively. It was enough that he didn't kill Snape for his impertinence, for the senior Death Eater did not bother with excuses. Nor did he cower. He never had.

He wasn't good at cowering, anyway. Always smacked of insincerity. Never had been submissive enough to manage it properly, which was probably what Voldemort liked about him so much, anyway. Snape just plain didn't care. Oh, he might not like the pain (hated it with a passion, in fact), but he didn't invest emotion into anything. Sadism, such as practiced by the majority of Death Eaters, fit most of the Dark Lord's purposes, but Snape's emotionless outlook on the world was dependable. He was heartless. It made things easier. Much easier.

Severus let his head fall back and eyes slide shut in relief as the potion began to take effect. Tonight hadn't been so bad. Voldemort wasn't the understanding type, but at least he was practical. Detentions, the Dark Lord knew, happened sometimes, although Severus doubted that Tom Riddle had ever experienced one himself. He snorted out loud, trying not to laugh at the image that created. For a moment, he indulged himself, thinking of a penitent Tom Riddle serving detention under the critical eyes of a younger Albus Dumbledore--not likely! But he still laughed. Dumbledore was the only man who Voldemort feared. Everyone attributed it to power, but perhaps the real cause was too many detentions in the transfiguration classroom. Unrealistic as the image was, it was highly amusing. Shaking his head, Snape moved towards his bedchambers. I must be really tired, he thought to himself, opening the door and covering a yawn with the other hand at the same time. To find anything involving Voldemort at all amusing--

Then his tired eyes noticed the figure seated casually on his bed.

He cursed and jumped backwards, wand in hand, ready to do battle with the unexpected intruder--then he frowned as the other man held his hands in the air, signifying surrender. Angrily, he demanded, "What the hell are you doing here, Lupin?"

"Bad evening, Severus?" the headmaster asked lightly, rising.

"How could you tell?" the deputy snorted irritably.

"I have noticed, over the years, that I am 'Lupin' when you're angry, 'Remus' when you are not, and 'Headmaster' in public." A smile quirked briefly over his features, and the werewolf shrugged apologetically. "I also am well aware of where you just returned from, and of the mindset that usually puts you in."

"Ah," Severus replied. What else could he say? He put his wand away and looked at his superior--who was also, yes, his friend, a fact he'd have never thought possible--carefully. Over the years, he had learned to tell when Remus Lupin was worried, and this was definitely one of those times. "Why are you here?"

All traces of a smile disappeared, and the blue eyes grew hard. "I came to warn you, Severus."

"Warn me?"

"Tonight, when you and Quirrell were departing the grounds, I believe you had an argument?" Remus' words were barely a question, and Severus stared at him. He knew for a fact that the headmaster had been sleeping, then... Oh, no.

"Who saw us?" he demanded, thinking fast.

"Three students."

"Shit."

"Indeed," the headmaster agreed. And for once, there was no harsh look for Severus' use of language no mother would wish her child to hear.

"Don't tell me," the Death Eater snarled. "It was the Dream Team, wasn't it?"

"If by that you mean the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, no," Remus replied, turning the patented 'headmaster' look on Severus for his sarcastic use of the nickname he had unkindly pinned on that trio during their first year. For his part, Severus ignored the look (he was used to it), and asked:

"Who, then?" The look persisted for a moment before Remus gave up.

"Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter."

"Lovely." Severus' mind turned the issue over a few times. Matters could have been worse. Granger's parents were Muggles, so if she wrote home about it nothing would happen. Potter--well, James and Lily were already well aware of his status, so they could be counted upon to tell their irritating son to shut up and leave it well enough alone. But Weasley would be the problem. His father worked for the Ministry, and would probably call up Arabella Figg to deal with the problem... That problem, so to speak, would stop with Arabella (or James, for that matter), but it would still leave Arthur Weasley, and probably his wife, in possession of more knowledge than Severus was comfortable with--but Remus was continuing.

"Luckily, the three of them had the sense to go to Dung about it, and he brought them to me. All three have promised to say nothing about it. I told them that appearances can be deceiving, and they did not see what they thought they saw."

"Lied through your teeth, I can see," Severus remarked, trying to hide his relief. "You're getting better at that."

"But no more fond of it," Remus replied seriously. "So do us all a service and be more careful in the future, Severus. Not all students would come to Dung or I--can you imagine what would happen if one of them went to, say, Sibyll Trelawney? We'd be up to our neck in Aurors by now."

"Point taken," Severus grunted. "I apologize." The idea of the paranoid divination professor controlling his fate wasn't a pretty one. He frowned, though, as another thought occurred to him. "What the hell were they doing up, anyway?"

"Please tell me that you hit your head, else I'll be forced to wonder how you forget your own detentions."

He might have blushed, but Severus was pretty sure that he'd forgotten how. "That doesn't explain why they didn't go back to bed when I released them."

"What do you think they were doing?" Remus cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled ever so slightly. "Do you really want to know?"

"No, because then I'd be obliged to sit through another detention with the brats."

"Spare me the nasty professor act, Severus," his friend replied mildly, making Severus sigh once more. It irked him to realize that he really wasn't in much control of himself tonight.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "It's been a long night."

Lupin's expression softened, and he nodded. "I came to warn you; I thought you would want to know. But now that's accomplished, and it's late. Get some sleep, Severus."

He smiled wanly as Remus moved past him and through the door. "Thanks for the warning. I will be more careful in the future, and I'll ensure that Quirrell is as well."

"I know you will." With the parting remark, Remus was gone, and Severus stared at the door for a moment after he had left. It was strange knowing that Remus warned him out of concern for his safety and not only because of the mission that they shared. He laughed again, but it sounded forced even to his own ears. A part of him, Severus supposed, was still getting used to friendship.

It's odd, Severus reflected as changed into his nightclothes, how things change with time.

------------

"I'll do it, James," Arabella said quietly, and watched her former student's hazel eyes widen in surprise. Sunlight was pouring through the nearby window, and it was a welcome sight; they had both, after all, been at work since dawn, especially considering the raids that were planned for that evening. The light made James look younger than he was, almost like he'd been when she'd first met him over thirteen years ago, but it didn't hide his unhappiness. Before the Auror's self control could reassert itself, his mouth managed to drop open, and James stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. A moment passed before he began to speak, but she cut him off. After all, she knew exactly what he was going to say.

"You, of all people, certainly cannot do this," the head of Magical Law Enforcement said sternly. "You know that, James."

"Why not?" he managed, still staring at her.

She was sitting casually on his desk in a way that most women her age wouldn't be caught doing. Arabella had initially come to hear out the finalized version of James' Azkaban Plan--codenamed ICEBREAKER--but hadn't been surprised at all when he'd volunteered himself. She knew him better than that, and knew the risks far better than he did. Maybe it was simply an advantage of age. She smiled slightly, thinking, I love you like a son, James Potter, but sometimes you can be the stupidest man I've ever met. "Well, aside from the fact that Lily would kill me, there's the fact of who you are."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she overrode him easily--and gently.

"People need heroes, James. Face the fact that you are one to the Wizarding world. We can't afford to lose you; not now. I'm more expendable than you are, yet I'm equally believable. Voldemort knows I am of the Order's inner circle. He'll hunger for the information that's inside my head."

"But you're--"

"If you even dare say that I'm old, James, I'll tell you to shove that piece of rubbish up your nose," she replied tartly. After all, Arabella certainly didn't consider sixty-three old. Not with the way Dumbledore was running around at his age.

"I was going to say that you're the Head of Magical Law Enforcement," her subordinate replied quietly.

It was a good thing that she was too old to bother feeling embarrassment. Open mouth; insert foot, Arabella thought with slight amusement. She spoke quickly to cover up her own foolishness. "Name one part of my job that you can't do."

"Now wait a minute--I'm needed in the field!"

"And you could do the Ministry exactly how much service locked up in Azkaban?" Arabella shot back, trying not to smile at James' befuddled expression. Who had he thought she'd choose as her replacement, anyway? Fudge? The very thought made her want to get sick.

"Plenty," he retorted.

She looked him in the eye. "As could I."

"'Bella--"

"And you're not needed in the field," she cut him off once more. "In fact, you need to get out of the field and stop taking such foolish chances. Next to Dumbledore, you're the most potent symbol we've got, and if we lose you, James, much of what we've fought to rebuild in the last four years will crumble to nothing."

He stared at her, and Arabella knew that he just didn't see. Bless his innocent little heart, the boy still hadn't realized how important he'd become. That, she knew, came because James Potter was a good man, and he didn't possess the extravagant ego of so many other high-ranking Ministry officials. He was confident--some said arrogant, but they were wrong--and he knew he was good at his job, but James wore his fame lightly. He always had. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm not that important."

"Don't argue with me, James." She softened the hard words with a smile. "We need you. End of story."

"So why you, then?" he demanded with exasperation.

"Who else?" Arabella snorted. "The only other person I'd trust would be Snape, and he's not exactly an option. Dung would never do it, and Remus is just too nice. Azkaban would eat him alive--even after all he's gone through, Remus isn't bitter enough for that place."

"Whereas you are." James sighed. His tone was almost resentful, but not quite; in that moment, she knew he understood. Even if he did not want to. Their options were limited, really, and he knew it. It had to be someone that Voldemort would want, someone in the Inner Circle of the Order of the Phoenix. She watched him mull over the problem, hiding a smile as James' fingers drummed unconsciously against his desk. He was trying to come up with other options, but in the end he would find the same thing she had. "Damn."

"Don't worry, James," Arabella said lightly. "Didn't you just tell me a few minutes ago how well your plan would work?"

The look he gave her was acid. "That was when I thought it would be me," James groused. "I'd rather risk my life than yours."

Sadness, suddenly, weighed down her heart, although she could not fathom why. For some reason, it became hard to answer: "I know."

------------

Remus paused in the doorway, but the slight break in his stride would not have been noticed by someone who did not know him well. Less than a quarter hour before, he'd received an unexpected fire call from Lily Potter (ostensibly Dumbledore's administrative assistant, but actually much more), asking him to meet with the minister as soon as possible, and the wary look on her face had warned Remus that this would not be fun. She hadn't told him what the meeting was about--there were simply some things that couldn't be discussed in the open--but Remus knew her well enough to expect problems from the moment he had Flooed to the Ministry. Stepping into Dumbledore's office, therefore, came as little surprise.

What caused his slight hesitation was the presence of a second wizard in the old man's office; the sour-faced and beady-eyed Deputy Minister of Magic, Bartemius Crouch. Despite feeling the hostile gaze upon him, Remus strode fearlessly into the room. His was a hard won confidence, but he owed nothing to Crouch, whom he liked not at all. Although he'd never argue with Crouch's dedication to Voldemort's defeat, the methods that the older man employed often disgusted the Hogwarts headmaster. The friction between the pair was well known; many people, of course, struck sparks with Crouch's abrasive personality, but Remus was also aware that the Deputy Minister had always opposed his presence at Hogwarts. That wasn't a personality issue at all; rather, the feelings were due to a prejudice that could still burn at him, no matter how many years he had spent fighting against it.

But there were some battles you simply could not win, and Remus knew when not to bother. Men like Crouch were never worth it. And he could afford to ignore people who were too narrow minded to look beyond what he was; after all, the magical world had come great distances in his lifetime, and he'd never expected to reach the point he was at now.

"Remus!" Dumbledore's enthusiastic greeting prevented any awkward encounters; he had always known how Crouch and Remus felt about one another. The headmaster took the proffered hand with a grateful smile.

"Minister." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes told Remus that he understood the formality; it wouldn't do to let the ever-nosy Crouch understand the how the Order of the Phoenix really worked, and the close friendship they shared.

"Please, sit down." A gesture pointed Remus towards a green-cushioned chair opposite the desk and next to Crouch; as the headmaster made himself comfortable, Dumbledore settled back behind his desk. Some of the twinkle left the familiar blue eyes, however, as the old wizard continued: "I am afraid that I must place a Silencing Charm on this room, since what needs to be said may to incalculable damage if overheard. Do either of you object?"

Remus shook his head slightly to signify he did not; although he wondered what this could be about, he trusted Dumbledore's judgment--after so long working for him, how could he not? But he noticed that the Minister's eyes were focused on his deputy. Crouch hesitated, frowning deeply, but he eventually sighed.

"Of course not." The look on his face was nowhere near as convincing as his words, though, but Dumbledore seemed not to notice (it often amazed Remus how much the Minister could willfully ignore), and cast the charm with a flick of his wand.

"Very well." Dumbledore put his wand away. "Barty, would you like to begin?"

The smug look that suddenly colored Crouch's face set Remus' teeth on edge, and he knew that his first impressions were right--this wasn't going to be good. The Deputy Minister nodded in what was probably meant to be a gracious manner. "Thank you, Albus."

He turned slightly to face Remus, and a hint of a superior smile made his features no more kind. Crouch didn't even bother to keep the satisfaction out of his voice. "I'm afraid I have bad news for you."

"Oh?" Remus was determined to keep his voice level, and not to rise to the bait that arrogant expression offered.

"Indeed." Crouch's dark eyes glittered. "It seems, Headmaster, that you have a spy in your midst. In fact, among your staff at Hogwarts."

Oh, crap. His heart started pounding in his ears as he examined the possibilities. But Remus had years of experience in keeping himself under control, and he asked calmly, "Would you care to inform me of whom, Minister, or must I be kept in the dark?"

"I would think, Lupin, that someone in your position would be a little less casual concerning matters like this," Crouch replied archly, his eyes flashing.

"Do you mean my position as headmaster, Minister, or the fact that I am a werewolf?" Remus demanded, struggling to keep anger out of his voice. He had been dealing with prejudices all of his life, but he wasn't accustomed to having his loyalty questioned. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Should I be concerned about either?"

When Remus received a warning look from Dumbledore, he supposed that he might have gone a tad far. Slowly, he sucked in a deep breath, counting silently to five before he continued. "I may be technically classified as a 'Dark creature,' Mr. Crouch, but I am as human as you are--and prone to mistakes, at times," he replied, keeping his voice level once more. "I am not, however, a creature of Voldemort's. We have passed over this ground before, and I, for one, am tired of doing so. Please make your point, Minister, and tell me of who has infiltrated my staff."

He saw the slight smile quirk on Dumbledore's wizened face, and knew that he'd countered Crouch's anger perfectly and without disrespecting the trust that the Minister had in him. Remus gazed calmly at the other man, watching Crouch's eyes narrow in both anger and suspicion. He knew that this would go no further; years before, Dumbledore had made it plain to Crouch that doing so would earn him a quick dismissal. There were certainly reasons why Dumbledore kept the abrasive wizard as his deputy, but love for his personality wasn't one of them, and the stern look that the Minister turned in his subordinate's direction made no words necessary. His displeasure was evident in his hard blue eyes.

"Very well," Crouch replied grudgingly. He paused for a moment, collecting himself, and then a slight sneer crossed his face. "At any rate, we finally have proof of something we have suspected for a long while. One of our spies has confirmed that Severus Snape is a Death Eater."

"I see." Remus leaned back in his chair slowly, letting his eyes flicker in Dumbledore's direction. How to handle this? There were any number of things he could say, but none of them changed the fact that Crouch wouldn't believe him, because once the deputy minister sank his teeth into something--especially a Death Eater--it was almost impossible to make him let go. Meeting his gaze, though, Dumbledore raised one eyebrow in question, and the Hogwarts headmaster nodded, more than willing to let the Minister handle it. The old man was, after all, the head of the Order.

"I am afraid, Barty, that you only have half of the available information," Dumbledore said quietly. "And I have known that Severus Snape is a Death Eater for some time."

"What?" Crouch snapped.

The Minister continued as if he hadn't heard the other's objection. "What I fail to understand, though, is why you--or your source--did not bring this matter to Arabella's attention."

"What I can't understand is why you haven't told me this before," Crouch countered irritably.

"You had no need to know."

"I had no need to know?" The demand was punctuated by an angry jerk of his head in Remus' direction. "I assume he did."

"I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Remus replied mildly.

"That's my point," Crouch snarled. "Why the hell are you letting a Death Eater teach at Hogwarts?"

Remus smiled slightly; he hated to admit that he was actually enjoying himself, but he'd never liked Crouch. "I firmly believe that Severus Snape is the best man for the job."

"Are you insane?" the other sputtered, and it briefly occurred to the headmaster how nice it was to see Crouch caught off guard. But the Deputy Minister turned to stare at Dumbledore. "Albus, surely you've got to see sense. You can't have one of Voldemort's spies--Wait a minute! You hired him, didn't you?"

"Indeed I did," the former headmaster replied evenly. "Knowing from the first his role in the Dark Lord's circle."

Crouch finally seemed unable to speak. His mouth opened, and he spread his hands apart as if to prove a point, but no words emerged. He might have recovered, had Dumbledore not continued:

"Severus Snape is indeed a Death Eater, Barty. However, he has also been spying for me for over a decade. I trust him. Remus trusts him. The reason why you were not notified was for his protection--and I must remind you that if you reveal this, it will mean his death."

Crouch scowled. "How can you be sure that he's working for us?"

"Oh, I am sure," Dumbledore replied.

"I don't trust him."

Remus reentered the conversation. "To be quite frank, Mr. Crouch, you do not know Severus Snape. And he is not what you think he is."

"Then what is he, a redeemed Death Eater?" was the answering snort. But it was Dumbledore who smiled gently.

"You could say that."