Harry Potter and the Vitrum Immortalitatis

Chapter Two

Harry woke slowly, as though his body were battling him for its right to sleep. His eyelids opened with a reluctant slowness, but finally allowed him a view of the dimly-lit ceiling. It was still night. His dream had featured his godfather's death, but in this most recent one a new element had surfaced. High, cold laughter rang out in the chamber, each echo more mocking than the last. Before the veil had settled, Harry felt himself hoisted into the air and thrown into the eternal cold beyond the arch.

Hedwig hooted sleepily as Harry switched his desk lamp on. He realized now that what truly tormented him was not the fact that Sirius was dead, nor that it was entirely his fault. It was the manner of his death. The veil had fluttered for only a moment and fallen still. So much life was gone with so little fanfare. Would he die that way? There and alive, then gone so easily?

Harry lay back and stared up through the ceiling again. He let his thoughts flow away, just as he had all holiday, but this time something remained. In a back corner of his mind was a small thought that was not his own. It coiled in on itself, like a snake in an egg.

Before he could inspect it further, there was a crash from the downstairs. Perhaps the Death Eaters had returned to finish him off. It disturbed him a little, only a little, to find that this idea made him happier. At least he would die in a blaze of action.

Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps nearly shook the house as he thundered down the stairs.

"You!" he spluttered.

Harry frowned at the next voice; Lupin's.

"We apologize for disturbing you at this hour, Mr. Dursley, but we've come to–"

"And you'll be leaving straight off!" Vernon shouted. "We've done nothing to the boy. Anything he's written to you is a bloody lie!"

"Pipe down, Dursley," said Moody.

"We're here because–"

"Don't tell him, Lupin! Bad for security."

"We don't have time for all of this," a silky voice cut in. Harry groaned. Of all the people they could have sent, did Snape have to be one of them? Besides, wouldn't this jeopardize his position as a spy?

"We're to take Potter and leave. Need I remind you that they could be here at any moment?"

"Out! Out of my house! I'll send the boy out to DON'T POINT THAT THING AT ME!"

Harry smirked. He half-wished he was downstairs, just to see the marvelous shade of purple his uncle's face must have turned. He heard his aunt's light footsteps reach the head of the stairs.

"Vernon? What is it?"

"Get back to bed, Petunia. I'll deal with them."

"Oh, really?" Harry could hear the sneer in the Potions Master's voice.

"Out!" Uncle Vernon demanded. "Perhaps I won't send the boy at all. I do have charge of him in the summers – something you lot seem to have forgotten. Always spiriting him away when he's got chores left; no consideration at all!"

"Now, Mr. Dursley, surely it's no trouble–" Lupin began.

"Oh ho! It isn't, is it? You let me be the judge of–"

"Silencio!" Snape interrupted. He continued in a deadly tone. "Get back upstairs. Let us take the boy and leave, with no more trouble. If he's not here when they arrive, no harm will come to you. So unless you are indeed as stupid as you look, you will step aside."

Uncle Vernon's footsteps going back up to his and Petunia's room sounded almost sullen. Two pairs of swifter feet soon followed him up the stairs and stopped at Harry's door. Lupin pushed the door open.

"There you are, Harry. And... you've already packed?"

"Never unpacked," Harry said tonelessly.

"Oh, that's... er..."

"I'm not going with you," Harry continued. "I quit."

"What?"

"I quit. I want out. Snap my wand, whatever."

"You can't quit, Harry," his former professor said sadly.

"But I do," he replied steadily, never moving his eyes from that spot just past the ceiling. "I don't want to... to die so easily. He'll kill me. It won't even be difficult for him, just like stepping on a bug, really. I don't want to die that way."

With a disgusted grunt, Snape pushed past Lupin.

"Enough wallowing, Potter." He dragged Harry up by his shirtfront.

"Snape–" Lupin began.

"Sod off, Lupin," he interrupted harshly. "The boy needs discipline."

"Hear, hear!" Uncle Vernon's voice was muffled by the walls. It seemed even a Silencing Charm couldn't keep him quiet for long.

"He needs sympathy," Lupin said reprovingly.

"Who thought the werewolf would be the soft-hearted one?" Snape sneered. "He needs–"

Harry gripped Snape's wrists. His green eyes flared.

"I *need* for all of you to bloody well back off!"

There was a delicate crash from downstairs.

"Sorry!" Tonks shouted up the stairs. "Easily fixed!"

Moody reprimanded her in a low growl, but the words were indistinguishable.

Harry felt the thing in the back ofhis mind uncoil, like a thin tendril. His eyes rolled back and a harsh voice rasped from his throat.

"Severus..."

Snape's eyes widened and he released his grasp on Harry's shirt. Harry's hands held tightly to the professor's wrists.

"Still on the wrong side, Severus?" A chuckle rippled through the boy. "I always knew. Lord Voldemort always knows. You would have died anyway, in the end. Now you will die sooner."

A sharp slap to the face brought Harry back. He fell to all fours, coughing, barely noting Snape's swift exit.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Lupin said, hiding the hand he had slapped him with as though ashamed of it. "Come on, we should be leaving now."

Harry nodded, rubbing his throat. He picked up Hedwig's cage and headed down the stairs. Lupin followed with his trunk. Tonks smiled brightly at him as he entered the kitchen, but said nothing under Moody's glare.

"Time!" The ex-Auror produced an old scarf from his pocket. Each person reached out and laid a finger on it.

"I thought we couldn't have a Portkey?" Harry asked.

"We have a bit more help from the Ministry these days, what with –" Lupin cleared his throat nervously. "Well, I expect you'll hear all about it soon enough."

Harry gave him a questioning look just before feeling the jerk through his navel as the Portkey dragged them all from Privet Drive.