Summoned

Chapter 34: August 2, 1995 (Part 2: Blood Magic)

EXPECTO PATRONUM!

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

9:00 PM

It wasn't obedience that brought him to his knees the moment he Apparated: he simply couldn't stand any longer. He had to hide that, had to summon every ounce of strength, every mental barrier...

There were about a dozen Death Eaters here tonight, usually a sign that Voldemort was not in a particular mood to punish anyone. But it was also a sign that they were about to be given assignments, and Severus was not looking forward to what he might be required to do.

The Dark Lord was dancing around them, swishing his wand in the air. Sparks of various colors - red, violet, blue, green - shot from the end of his wand and with each spark, Severus felt a different emotion swell within him: glory, victory, triumph, pain, conquest... The Dark Lord was on top of the world!

"Why is tonight different from every other night?" he asked, his cackling voice high with hysteria. "Severus?"

He began to have a sick feeling in his stomach. "I - do not understand the question, Master." He knew that memory was blocked right now. He was sure of it!

The Dark Lord hovered over him. "Yes, you do. Why is tonight different from every other night?"

"Master, that question - is asked at Passover. In the spring. Not in August."

The Dark Lord's glee disappeared so suddenly, that it was almost as if it had never been there. "Do you think I don't know that?" he yelled insanely. He lowered his face to within an inch of Snape's, his decaying breath filling Severus' nostrils and lungs as he tried to breathe. He lowered his voice again to a hiss. "Why is tonight different, for you, my pet, than every - other - night."

His stomach churned, he felt a long shiver through his spine and he knew what he was supposed to say. But he didn't say it fast enough. In less than a breath, he felt his mind penetrated, felt the Dark Lord feeding back to him the memories Severus had given him years ago, memories of that awful night...

The Dark Lord grinned again, his mouth-hole opening with a loud, hard cawing sound. "Yes, Severus, yes! Tonight, my faithful ones," he continued, sweeping his gaze around the room again, leaving Severus to his own horrible, cold memories, no longer expecting him to answer the question aloud, "my servant, Lucius Malfoy, assures me that two dementors are on their way to Little Whinging, even as we speak. One of his contacts within the Ministry itself has given the dementors their orders."

There were murmurs of delight around the circle.

"At last," one of his masked brethren breathed.

"Yes. At last."

He tore his mind from the memories Dumbledore had just ruptured and focused on what was happening right here, right now. He couldn't afford to be pulled into the past! "Is our contact within the Ministry also a Death Eater, my Lord?"

"No," the Dark Lord whispered. "No, she is simply following her own good, common sense - as suggested to her by Lucius."

There were quiet, cautious, chuckles around the warm room.

"But Master," he persisted recklessly, "it is my understanding that two members of the Order have been sent to guard Potter at all times." He began to feel the effects of the Strengthening Solution. With any luck, he'd be able to Disapparate from here when this was over and not have to fly to his next destination.

"Only one wizard was anywhere near the boy," Lucius said. The fact that he spoke without permission told Severus a great deal about Malfoy's current standing with the Dark Lord. And how that differed from his own position.

Lucius turned to Severus. "And he has been - distracted. It seems, Severus, that the Headmaster of Hogwarts asked the Board of Directors to authorize the purchase of about a hundred new cauldrons for the third year students this term. Sadly, those cauldrons have - slipped - off the brooms carrying them. The two-bit arse who's been watching Potter was easily lured away by the promise of cheap cauldrons he could resell on the black market."

"Your suggestion that the cauldrons be ordered, your - contribution, Severus, will not go unrewarded," the Dark Lord finished. His dance stopped right in front of Snape. "And you," he said, moving closer, his fingernail once more beneath Severus' chin, lifting his face, "will bring word of Potter's - kiss with death - to Dumbledore. Because there is nothing. He can do. To stop. What is about to happen!"

Severus smiled tightly. "It will be a pleasure, my Lord."

The Dark Lord looked into his eyes. "Yes, it will, Severus. - And you will bring me back - your memories - so that I, too, may enjoy the pleasure of Dumbledore's defeat."

"Master?" asked one of the masked men. "What may I do? How may I serve you?"

Severus thought the voice sounded like Crabbe.

"Oh, my plump one, you wish to serve me?" The Dark Lord grabbed the man's arm and pulled him from his spot. "Oh, yes, you can please me tonight. Yessss..."

And as he watched, the serpentine tongue flash out of the mouth-like slit and licked the mask on the Death Eater. The mask dissolved, Crabbe's face was revealed, and as the tongue touched his face again he began to vomit.

Severus looked away.

"You may go! Go, and rejoice! I shall Summon you back for the feast!" The Dark Lord laughed and grabbed Crabbe more tightly and then they both disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. The remaining Death Eaters scrambled to their feet, one or two of them muttering thanksgivings that they hadn't offered to please the Dark Lord this evening.

Lucius grabbed his arm before he could move away from the group. "Did you enjoy Potter's birthday party, Severus?" he asked coldly.

"I cannot stop thinking about it."

Lucius laughed. "Oh, I'm sure that's true. - Did you know, the girl you tortured will be one of your students this year?"

"Did you know that I do not care? If you will excuse me..."

"By the way, Severus, why is tonight different from every other night? Hmm?"

Without answering, knowing Lucius already knew the answer, Severus pulled himself from the group and without another glance at Lucius, Disapparated.

* * *

He sent his Patronus, little more than a silvery glow at this point, ahead of him the second he returned from the Riddle House. Then he began the laborious climb to the castle.

"Severus!" Dumbledore met him at the doorway to the Entrance Hall.

"Dementors have been dispatched to Little Whinging," he gasped. "They're after Potter."

"What?" Dumbledore grasped his arms, much as the Dark Lord had grasped Crabbe. "We're not ready..."

"They are not completely under the Dark Lord's control. He indicated it was someone within the Ministry who sent them. But he wouldn't say who. - Malfoy has a friend there."

The old wizard held Severus' eyes. "Severus."

He felt himself sinking down, his knees giving out on him. He forced himself back up and pulled away from Dumbledore's help. But he was too weak, he was in too much pain, and he didn't know what Dumbledore had seen in his mind earlier, but he knew he didn't want him to remember what tonight was.

The Headmaster pulled away and cast his own Patronus in several directions. "I'm going to the Ministry. The Order has just been alerted. I told Arthur what's happening. He'll get everyone together."

Severus tried to take a few steps and staggered and Dumbledore grasped his arms and held him still for several seconds, while he tried to look into Snape's mind.

"No!" He looked away and pulled back. "There is no time!" And his knees gave out and he sank to the ground.

Dumbledore crouched down. "Severus, I'm so- You haven't got the strength of new-born newt right now. Don't try to get to the Order on your own. Get Minerva to help you. And make sure Alastor gets the message, I'm not sure where he is right now." As he spoke, he conjured a traveling cape and his broom. "I'll be in touch as soon as I know anything. - When were they sent?"

He shook his head and the pain blinded him again. "Not long ago. He said they were there already."

"Let's just hope Harry's inside his aunt and uncle's house tonight." With that, Dumbledore mounted his broom and flew off the castle grounds.

Severus made it through the castle, stumbling several times, his body beginning to feel as if he were under a Cruciatus. He took the spiraling stairs down to his dungeon and changed out of his Death Eater cloak. He took a few minutes to put it and his mask back in his bedchamber in their hiding spot, then tossed a bit of Floo powder into the fireplace.

"Professor McGonagall?"

Seconds later, her face appeared in the flames. "Severus. - What's happened?"

He gave her a brief version of what was going on, and then said, "We need to go to Order Headquarters."

"Of course," she said, her voice a bit frosty. It was a tone she used when she was very upset, and certainly this news had to have been upsetting to her. "Give me a moment."

Severus drank more Strengthening Solution and knew he was going to pay for it later. But he had no choice at the moment. Something had been ripped apart inside him and it felt suspiciously like another Memory Charm had been broken.

"Why is this night different..." Bitter herbs, the whip, the bricks...

Minerva was less than a full minute and she watched him carefully as they left the castle and flew off the grounds. Once past the barriers, Minerva made as if to Disapparate, but he stopped her. "Professor, I - I am too weak to Disapparate on my own. I will need - to Side-Along with you."

"Of course," she said brusquely and took his hand.

Together, they Disapparated and reappeared on the sidewalk in front of Grimmauld Place. Two wand taps, and the door opened, but Molly was just coming to get it herself. "It's true, then? Dementors in Little Whinging? Professor, you look dreadful! Are you alright?"

"Yes, it is true," he said, ignoring her last question.

Behind her, Arthur was opening a letter that had, presumably, just been delivered by the owl hovering on top of one of the stuffed elf-heads. In the background, he saw the living house-elf watching and listening carefully from the entrance to the parlor.

"Dumbledore's at the Ministry." Arthur was silent for a moment as he read the rest of the missive, then handed it to Severus. "Harry and his cousin were attacked," he said, his voice quiet and monotoned with shock. "They're okay, it says," he added, turning to Molly, who had made a small cry.

"What's happened?" "What's going on?" "Did you say dementors?" "Harry's been attacked?"

The Weasley girl, Ron, Fred, and the Granger girl were hanging over the stair railings from the second floor. They began tromping loudly down the steps as they hurled questions at the Order members in the hallway.

"I need to send Harry an Owl," Arthur said. "Could one of you go get Sirius and Remus? We need to get a meeting started."

"Did dementors attack Harry?" The Granger girl asked again, shooting looks at Molly and Professor McGonagall and deliberately not at him.

"Yes, dear, but Professor Dumbledore says he's fine. Now, all of you, back upstairs. Fred, go get Sirius and Remus, would you please? We'll let you know if anything else happens. Go on, go!"

She shooed them off with her hands and then turned to Severus and Minerva. "I suppose you found out about this from -You-Know-Who?" she asked him.

The Solution was, once more, beginning to help a bit. "Yes. In there," he said, nodding toward the meeting room. "We should avoid dispensing any more information to the junior league." Kingsley came through the front door behind them, and they all headed to the meeting room.

Apparently, Black and Lupin had already retired for the night: they came clumping down the stairs, wrapping dressing gowns around themselves as they came in. Black's hair was tousled and he was blinking as if he were still trying to wake up. Lupin looked pretty much his normal, shabby self.

"What's this the kids are saying?" Black demanded as he entered the room.

Once again, Severus repeated the story while Arthur sent the owl off to deliver a letter to Potter.

"Albus said the Ministry had already sent an Owl to Harry," Arthur explained, "expelling him from Hogwarts and telling him his wand was about to be confiscated and destroyed."

Severus passed the brief letter around the table, trying hard to keep the room in focus, trying hard not to let the world dissolve around him.

"Sorry, I'm late. Wotcher, everyone! What's going on?" Tonks appeared in the doorway, having apparently used the Floo Network to make her arrival: she was covered in ashes, from her pink hair to her feet.

And once again, the story was told, this time by Arthur. Tonks took her usual seat next to Severus, yawning and apparently unaware of the cloud of ash that rose around her.

Sirius, meanwhile, had conjured a quill and parchment and was writing a hasty note. "Is Pigwidgeon here?"

"He should be upstairs. Molly, would you go get him?" Arthur asked, taking a moment to put a reassuring hand on her arm, adding a quick little pat. She smiled at him and got up to get the owl.

"Here we are, Sirius," she said, returning quite quickly, Severus thought: he'd have expected her to have been bombarded with questions from the upstairs guests.

"I've told Harry to stay in his aunt's house," the man said as he tied the note to the owl and took it to the front door.

As he did, a second owl appeared and flew through the open door, down the hallway, and landed in front of Arthur. He opened the note and read it quickly, with Molly looking over his shoulder, then passed it around, beginning with Severus. "He's got the Ministry to agree not to expel Harry. Yet. There's going to be a disciplinary hearing on August 12, at nine o'clock in the morning." He shook his head. "Poor boy! Must be terrified right now."

"Trapped in that house?" Sirius added. "With those - Muggles!" He used the word with such derision that Molly and Tonks both gave him a glower. "Well, they are!" he defended himself. "He should have been here!"

"Dumbledore has had him under close watch by two people at all times," Arthur reiterated.

"Then how did this happen?" Sirius yelled. "He should have anticipated this!"

"He did!" Severus yelled back. He really shouldn't have: he felt the blood begin to pound in his head and his heart was beating so fast it couldn't keep up with itself and began missing beats. "Weren't you here?"

He wasn't going to mention the cauldrons luring Mundungus away yet. He had already decided he would share that information only with Dumbledore, and leave it up to him what to do about it.

Sirius turned to look at him for the first time, and his answer faded off as he continued to stare at Severus.

He was interrupted by Dumbledore's Patronus flying into the room, it's Phoenix feathers splayed out in an impressive array of silver light.

"I'm on my way back. Please stay until I get there." Then the Patronus dissolved.

"Well, I think some tea would be in order," Molly said, her voice strained. As she stood to go to the kitchen, she wiped away a tear that was falling.

"I'll help," Tonks volunteered.

"No, no, dear, you just - just stay here." Undoubtedly, Severus thought, Molly wanted the kitchen left intact. And she might have wanted a moment to compose herself.

Seconds later, there was a tap on the front door. Arthur, who could see down the hallway from his seat, said, "Oh, good, it's Dumbledore and Alastor."

Oh good, indeed, Severus thought. Moody...

"Why is tonight different..?"

The Headmaster and Moody came in, took their usual seats, and Arthur noted their attendance on the meeting minutes that he had just started to keep. "I'm sorry, all of you. Just a moment, please, while I get this down," he said, and began a hasty dictation. Meanwhile, Moody stared at Snape across the table.

But it was Lupin who leveled the question at him next. "What in bloody hell happened to you this time?" he asked, apparently just noticing him.

He took a deep breath, but it hurt: just about anything that still had feeling left in it hurt. "Nothing."

"Good," Sirius said, rocking back on the rear legs of his chair. "Then we won't need another moment of sympathy for poor Snape."

His temper flared, hot and fast. With a sudden strength born from that fury, he slammed his hand on the table. "I have never asked for sympathy from anyone in this room! Least of all you!"

"Severus, calm -"

"Don't," he shouted at Dumbledore, "tell me to calm down! - I have done what I needed to do here." He got up and grabbed his broom and stormed from the room as quickly as he could.

Sure enough, the second floor contingent was leaning over the railing, a long, flesh-colored string dangling from one of the twins' hand. As soon as he came into view, the string was yanked up and the children dispersed.

He made it outside before Minerva caught up to him. "Severus! Severus, wait! Wait! You can't Disapparate on your own! How do you think you're going to get back?"

"I will fly!" he shot over his shoulder, hastily looking around for any Muggles.

"It'll take you hours to fly back, Severus, you haven't got the strength! Please, wait for me. Or for Albus. - Please!" She had moved closer and put a hand on his arm. He looked into her eyes and saw, in addition to her not-unwarranted anger, some of the sympathy he loathed.

"I will be fine. I will stop if I need to."

"Severus, no!"

And then they were joined by Dumbledore and Lupin - predictable! - who were both talking as they left the building. "Severus, you can't just storm out -"

"If you will stop acting like a child -"

"Will you shut up!" he demanded as they came closer. "With this much noise, we'll end up on Muggle news tonight!"

"Severus," Dumbledore started. There was nothing warm in his voice. "Wait for one of us to go with you!"

Severus glared at him: wonderful! Now Lupin knew he was too weak to Disapparate on his own!

"I have given my report. My views on where the Potter boy should have been are well known to you! I can add nothing further to the meeting." He strode quickly down the street, glancing around for Muggles, and finally ducking between two houses where a small garden was planted in the narrow space. From there, he mounted his broom and took off.

The night air felt like barbs on his face. His cloak provided some warmth, but it was his summer cloak, so it didn't take long before he felt the chill night air biting into him through his clothing. He decided to land when his hands became numb from riding so high, a prerequisite to not being seen until he reached the safety of Hogsmeade.

He stopped where he knew no one would pay attention to him, the place he went once a year, just to ensure that it was still there, still usable in an emergency.

Still haunted.

He walked through the dark streets and turned onto Spinner's End, followed it to its end, and opened the enchanted door of a house that looked as boarded up and empty as the Shrieking Shack.

He had not bothered to redecorate in the time he'd owned it. The place was old and musty, there were still stains on the walls and half-decayed carpeting from various battles he and his mother had lost.

"Spilled Half-Blood," Tobias had called it when his blood had spattered the walls or the rugs, and had then maliciously exacted twice as much to make up the difference between Tobias' Muggle blood and his son's "polluted" blood. There were old stains on the couch and the chairs, there was an odor of decay and rot in the place, and he had, year after year, let the place go without bothering to fix it.

It was his, one of the few things in the world he owned, aside from his library of books, his potion-making tools, and his clothing. Some of the money Dumbledore had won for him in the settlement against the Office of Magical Law Enforcement had come in handy. It had given him a hole to hide in, a refuge of sorts - if he didn't count the nightmares it always brought.

Tonight, he cleaned out the fireplace enough to safely light a fire. The room was chilly and stank of rotting furniture and the dankness that seeped through the walls. He had never bothered to clean it or fix it for one very powerful reason: he did not consider this a home. Hogwarts, from the day Dumbledore had told him he'd become his guardian, had been his home. In his heart, in his mind, in every cell of his being, Hogwarts was the only place he would ever call home.

He sat in front of the fire for quite a while, and the past came swirling around him, as if the ghosts of that night were here in the room with him....

Why was this night different from all other nights? He could see it: the table set, the pillows, the parsley, the salt water, the bitter herbs...

His mother hid in her bedroom until it was over, because she knew that Tobias liked to demonstrate the ill-treatment his Muggle-Jewish ancestors had received thousands of years ago.

Why was this night different from all other nights? The words of his childhood, words of spring salvation, descended in his thoughts like dementors.

Because tonight, dementors had attacked Harry Potter.

Because tonight he could do nothing to save Lily's son from what might have been the boy's last night alive.

Because tonight his vow to protect Lily's son had been useless.

Because tonight was the night on which Tobias Snape had died, twenty-four years ago.

Death had not passed over this house.

But it had passed over number four, Privet Drive.

Harry Potter was alive.

* * *

They stood on the sidewalk outside the house for an unconscionably long time, Remus thought. Finally, Dumbledore said, "We'd better go back in. - Remus, could I have a word with you?"

He nodded and the three of them traipsed back into the long hallway. Professor McGonagall gave him a look and headed back into the meeting room.

"Remus, I - may be making a terribly wrong assumption, but it seems as if you - well, as if you -"

"As if I'm suffering from a certain fondness for Severus?" he finished. Then he leaned back against the wall, and ducked his head around one of the stuffed heads. "You're not wrong. Severus has done too much to help me. - Should I go wait for him?"

Dumbledore's eyes registered such relief that it was hard to bear. "You would have my undying gratitude," he said softly. And at that moment, there was a thump against the front door and Hedwig bounced off and dropped to the ground.

Dumbledore sighed and reached down to pick up the owl, who took to his arm without hesitation. There were three notes attached to her legs, and the poor bird looked exhausted.

"Alright, let's go deliver these," Dumbledore said soothingly. Then he turned back. "Oh, and-"

"I know, be careful."

"No, there's something you should know." Remus waited while Dumbledore stroked the bird on his arm. "This is the anniversary of Tobias Snape's death. - Voldemort waited until tonight to send his dementors to kill Harry. Not a 'coincidence' Severus would miss." He took the bird down the hall, then turned once more. "Thank you, Remus," he said. "And do be careful."

* * * August 3, 1995, early morning

It was nearly dawn before Severus showed up. He had left the door to his office unlocked and a potion Remus didn't recognize simmering in one of his cauldrons. The stacks of papers from all his students were gone. The desk was cleared and housed only a few objects Remus wasn't able to identify, and those that were normally on his desk.

Remus had lit a fire, had conjured a large pot of tea and some biscuits, and he set himself to reading a book whose title had been enchanted. The book, originally entitled Ensnaring the Senses: Forbidden Potions from the Middle Ages (Updated and Expanded to Include a Listing of Alternative, Modern Ingredients), proved to be entertaining and enlightening. The work was probably on a list of Ministry-forbidden books, but the contents - brews and potions only rumored to exist - seemed almost priceless.

Page 346 of the book contained the ingredients - but not the proper techniques - to make the Wolfsbane Potion. There were several notes in the margins.

Severus returned as the sun began to rise, his appearance in the doorway a dark cloud of misery that intruded on Remus' quiet and pleasant contemplations.

Remus just looked at him as he entered. Severus turned away and headed for his bedchamber. "Did Dumbledore send you?"

"Well, sort of. I volunteered." He waited as patiently as he could for some response. It came in the form of dismissal.

"I am here. You may go." And as Severus opened the door to his private chamber he turned. "Good bye!"

He closed the bedchamber door behind him quietly.

Remus took a deep breath and debated his options. Dumbledore might already be back: but he'd have expected him to send word if he were. He could sit where he was and just keep watch. He could go into Severus' room and see if the man was in the mood to burden Remus with more information about his past.

"Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart!" James had declared, the moment he and Sirius and Peter and James had gotten to the dormitory that first night. All together, they raised their wands, declared their bravery and laughed and joked about being the Three Wizardly Musketeers and spent the night reveling in their new-found security as wizards who had a place to belong.

And Severus..? Severus had fought off the attacks of Malfoy and his followers, as had other students Severus had protected.

"Where dwell the brave of heart!" How much bravery did it take to stand up to Malfoy? How much bravery did it take to be a Half-Blood in the House of Slytherin? How much bravery did it take to face Voldemort?

Probably a bit more than facing a weakened and angry Severus Snape.

The door had not been sealed. He opened it and found Severus lying on the his bed, his eyes shut. "I thought - I told you to go!"

Remus nodded. "Dumbledore told me - what last night was. For you."

Severus moved only his eyes and Remus received a dark glare. "Oh, please!"

"It's the night your father died," Remus pressed. "And Harry could have, and you - what did he do to you, Severus?"

"Nothing."

"Everyone could see it! It's not nothing! You couldn't even Disapparate!"

"He did nothing! It was not - him!" And he gasped for air. "It was - Dumbledore!"