Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Another Life ❯ Jack Be Nimble ( Chapter 15 )

Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, Angst, DARK themes, Backstabbing, Incest, Yuri/Fem-slash, and other various nastiness. Hard R rating.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine.

It was a very ominous sound, chains clinking as they pulled the round, wooden platform up. It moved unevenly, jostling the two standing upon it. Above, they could hear the voices of witnesses as they quietly discussed the day’s event. Cold blew down to chill their bones, their breath visible gas before them. He wondered if all of this was a type of mental torture, then realized yes, it had to be. He had witnessed this himself, but to actually be upon that rising platform, to know that it could be the last thing he ever experienced, made it all the more different.

Sound stopped when the platform did. They stood surrounded by Ministry officials who had pale, solemn faces and emotionless eyes. He caught sight of a few he knew. Their eyes held anger, betrayal, sickening pride… Two sparkling blue eyes smirked.

Down stepped the guard at his side. Up went the official designated to oversee the event. There was a scroll in his hands and he read from it, but the words did not penetrate the numbness that had overtaken the victim. He was not afraid, not angry. He wasn’t feeling much of anything. The cold sent shivers down his back but it didn’t register in his mind.

All he could think was, ‘Well… It was a good run.’

“Do you understand?” asked the official.

At first, he said nothing, simply letting everything wash over him. Even if he didn’t understand, he still wouldn’t be leaving alive. Black eyes finally lifted and stared the official down as Severus Snape smiled.

“Yes,” he murmured quietly for the sake of those gathered. What did it matter if he died, as long as Harry was safe? Not that he was going to.

Odd that none of them thought to wonder why the Potions Master was still smiling.

The courtroom was thrown into sudden pandemonium when dozens of Death Eaters apparated in. At once, nothing but confusing flashes of spells whizzed to and fro, wizards and witches’ voices screaming out in a way that seemed almost like music.

Only one man noticed the guard that had been at Severus Snape’s side move back to that position and take Snape’s arm. Only he saw the glow of a port keyed stone pressed into a pale hand before the prisoner and his angel of rescue disappeared.

Dumbledore let out a frustrated scream before going back into the fight with a vengeance.

Did James Potter know of his own infertility? If he did, one had to wonder how he explained the birth of Harry. If not, one had to pity him for being a cockled husband. Narcissa was not in the business of pity in either case.

When she had set out to learn the secrets of Lily Potter’s last years, Narcissa had begun with the records. Marriage, birth, death, even adoption. These papers gave her a time line to run by, creating a mental map. The marriage and death papers gave her nothing she hadn’t already known. The birth certificate had a slight oddity, but since she had lived in the time it had been written, she understood it. Harry’s blood had not been tested at the time of birth to be the biological child of both Lily and James. It wasn’t a common practice then but had become so in years after the fall of Voldemort, since so many women had become pregnant due to rapes. This enabled the Ministry to put away more Death Eaters, if only for the charge of rape and not anything else. Narcissa felt some pity for the women but it they were not strong enough to escape or abort, she had little other feeling for them.

The second oddity came in the adoption papers. The whole thing had been rushed. It had taken less than twenty-four hours to push the matter through. That was completely unheard of. The Ministry seemed to thrive off making things long and difficult. Narcissa had pulled at every string she had, but no one remembered why it had been done so quickly. Then she noticed it.

One name popped up more often than any other. Albus Dumbledore. He had a hand in everything having to do with the Potters, even signing as a witness at their wedding. Her gut feeling was that the man was involved with Lily’s leaving Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore would know about James. He simply would, as he knew most everything. Therefore, he would know that Lily’s child has to be Riddle’s.

Why did he allow a child of the Dark Lord live?

She scowled at the papers, for they could not answer that question. Shoving them all away on the desk, she got up and left the study. The search would continue when she was refreshed. The hall was pleasantly cool, stone walls insulating against the hot sun, a few spells circulating the air.

Near the library, she paused at a window as she spotted her son in the gardens. Beside him was the muddled boy, Harry. Draco laid on the stone path as he talked and the other boy seemed to be listening, sometimes even replying. She didn’t know what she felt about the odd companionship between them. Her fear was that it would end once Harry regained himself. Draco may not show it to most, but he was very fragile when it came to issues of the heart.

Narcissa sighed softly and went on. She would wait and watch and see what happened. Her place was small in the drama but she wished for little else.

One escape and six semi-consecutive portkey jumps later, Remus Lupin finally escorted Severus Snape onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor. It was dark, late in the night, and both wizards were tired. The aurors had managed to track the first two jumps, so they’d had to fight and hide to jump safely and get away. No doubt, Remus Lupin’s face would be plastered in the morning’s paper as a Death Eater. He didn’t mind this too much. Snape’s safety, as tied to Harry’s, meant far more to him.

The Potions Master had been affected by his stay in Azkaban, regardless of how short it might have been. He was haggard and exhausted, even more shallow faced than ever. In coming days or weeks, he might lose the hollow look in his eyes, as Hagrid had before, and Remus sincerely wished for it. He wasn’t on the best of terms with Snape, but he didn’t wish any harm upon the man.

Inside the manor, Remus led Snape towards the room that had been prepared for him, but a crashing sound made them pause.

“Bloody hell, Potter, can you be any more brain dead?!” came Draco’s voice through the halls. There was no audible answer, but he continued with, “No, don’t pick that up with your bare hands, you dolt…”

Remus blinked when Snape pulled away from him, starting towards the voices. He followed after the other man, worried that he would push himself. As they grew closer, Draco’s annoyed mumbles were more audible, but there was still no answering voice. Then Snape glanced through a doorway.

Sitting on the floor with his back turned to the door was Harry, who watched in silence as Draco carefully reconstructed a glass vase that had been shattered. The blonde finished and set it back into its place before he noticed the two men.

“Uncle,” Draco said in surprise, blinking at them. “It worked…”

Harry glanced at Draco before getting up and turning to see. His eyes snapped wide and his face went pale. Snape watched the change in near fascination, but it all shattered when Harry let out a loud, wretched scream. It sounded as if something were ripping him to pieces… Harry stumbled backwards until he hit a wall, and then seemed to be trying to melt back into it as he continued to scream. Draco and Remus were dumbfounded.

Snape moved before either thought to. He was quickly in front of the boy, hands grabbing his shoulders tight as he gave him a rough shake.

“Harry!” he hissed, slapping the boy. “Shut up!”

It was enough to shock Harry into silence, but he was breathing too quickly, his eyes nearly unseeing.

“What is it?” Severus asked him urgently. Harry stared at him in silence for many long moments until Snape half believed he might never speak.

“You’re dead,” Harry whispered faintly, horror coloring his whole being.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re dead! You’re dead! Dead! You’re dead! You’re-”

“HARRY!”

The boy gave a pathetic little sniffle as his eyes grew wet. “You weren’t suppose to die…”

“I didn’t die,” Snape replied quietly. “Why do you think I’m dead?”

“You’re here. Like Remus. Sirius..”

“That damn mongrel,” Snape cursed quietly. He sighed a bit. “Harry, Black isn’t dead, much as I’d like him to be. He’s not dead. Lupin is not dead. I’m not dead. No one in this house is dead.”

Harry stared at him. Snape wondered if he actually got through to him. The boy was quiet, eyes searching his face for any sign of falsehood. The potions master waited. Finally, Harry nodded a little and his face grew very serious.

“I attacked Voldemort with a fork.”

The room was utterly silent. Then the unthinkable happened. Snape dropped his head back and laughed.

Once Snape had recovered from his laughing fit, Remus escorted the man to his room with the boys trailing behind. Harry simply refused to let go of Snape’s hand, nor could he be made to leave once his former caretaker was in bed. Remus, exasperated but unwilling to fight, finally magicked up a cot in Snape’s room for Harry to sleep on. After, he grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him off to leave the two in peace. Harry slept very little. He sat on his cot, alternating between watching Snape sleep and falling into his own thoughts.

He wasn’t dead.

Snape never lied unless it was a life or death situation. He held himself to one of the most strict moral codes Harry had ever known. Snape did not pretty up his own personality to please others and his blunt honesty was legendary. He’d never kept his true thoughts a secret and could be trusted to give a real critique when asked. So, Harry knew that he wasn’t dead because Snape said so and Snape didn’t lie.

He wasn’t dead. He had attacked Voldemort with a fork.

For some reason, the thought struck him as something that should have been funny but wasn’t. Harry thought back on that event, trying to figure out his own reasoning for it but failing miserably. As far as he could tell, he’d done it on a whim. No need to save anyone, just something he’d like to do. Another thought moved to take that one’s place.

Sirius was alive. Harry didn’t understand how this could be possible but Snape had said so. He felt vaguely embarrassed about how he’d acted around his godfather. Some things he’d thought and said didn’t make sense to him anymore. It was as if he were waking very slowly from a long sleep and nothing was quite where it was suppose to be yet.

Draco would surely tease him once he’d figured out that Harry was beginning to be himself again. He sighed at the thought. The near companionship that had grown between them in the past days was nice and good and warm, and Harry didn’t want to lose it… He knew he would and that was surprisingly painful. Inevitable, but so very painful. It almost scared him just how much he wanted to keep the tentative friendship forming between them.

Lifting his eyes, Harry watched Snape sleep, watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, watched the repetitive motion of a few strands of wind blown hair. Snape was back, safe, and Harry would keep him that way no matter what. He would also make sure the man knew fully well that he would not appreciate any more sacrificing on his behalf. It was simply too much.

He couldn’t lose Snape again.

And that was what broke the dam. Suddenly, Harry was crying and he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in his hands and just sobbed. After a while, he became aware of the cool, bony, but welcoming presence holding him but that only made him cry harder. Snape rubbed his back, pet his hair, and most importantly, was there for him until it was over.

“Don’t do that again!” Harry hissed out against Snape’s shirt. The older man sighed a little.

“I can’t promise that.”

“You want to leave me?”

“No, Harry.” Snape pulled away a little, hands resting on Harry’s shoulders. He waited until the boy looked at him before continuing. “I would not leave you because I wanted to, but I cannot allow harm to you that I can prevent. If I must risk my life for you, I will.”

“I don’t want you to,” Harry murmured softly.

“I’d rather stay alive. You’re important, Harry. More important than you’ll ever know.”

There was a flicker in Harry’s eyes before they glazed with a familiar anger Snape was almost glad to see, but couldn’t understand. The boy ripped himself away, standing and taking a step back. His eyes smoldered as he glared at the Potions Master.

“Is that why you’re doing this? Is that why you’re so kind? Gentle? Why you’re caring for me? Because I’m bloody important?!”

Snape stayed silent.

“It is, isn’t it?” The boy gave a harsh, angry laugh. “Bloody hell, I’m such an idiot. Of course that’s why. Why else has anyone cared about the safety of Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Won’t-Bloody-Well-Die?!”

With a spark, Snape realized what was going through the boy’s head. He stood.

“I still have to kill the Dark Lord!” Harry laughed out, covering his eyes with his hands. “Can’t repeat that fork thing, didn’t work. I’ll have to think up something brilliant because I’m Harry-fucking-Potter!”

Snape grabbed the boy up in his arms and held him tight. Harry’s body was shaking hard and his breath was too fast, almost choked. The boy clutched him just as tightly. He needed this.

“Get one thing straight,” the older man murmured quietly as Harry struggled to calm himself. “I don’t give a damn about what you’re suppose to do to save the world. I really don’t. Yes, ridding the world of evil is a noble and worthy cause, but I’m a Slytherin. That means I’m of a survivalist’s mind. It isn’t practical to set all hopes on you. You may be gifted, talented, and full of unhealthy courage, but you are just a boy. I refuse to ask you.”

His shirt was growing damp from the boy’s tears, but he didn’t mention it.

“I want you to be safe, Harry. I always have, even when I didn’t care for you much. Now, I’ve been able to see a worthy mind buried in that blockheaded foolhardiness.” It might have been his imagination, but Snape thought he almost heard a little snicker at that. “I would throw my life away for you, Harry. You, not the Boy-Who-Lived or the Savior of the Wizarding World. Just you. Remember that because I hate repeating myself.”

And that brought another batch of tears neither would talk about. Snape held Harry until he was ready to face the world and then they both went to sleep.

It was crazy. Everything was crazy. Why did he even care anymore?

Half the time, he wasn’t even awake. He had more lost time than hours he could actually account for. It was as if something was sucking up his soul and spitting out only what it didn’t need. And then the papers… the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters… Even that news didn’t phase him anymore.

The only thing that mattered now was the one image in his mind that wouldn’t leave him. Lillian in the window, her baby pressed to her chest and eyes filled with such sorrow… Did she think he was so stupid? So easy to manipulate?! She’d used him! Used him and then threw him away without even telling him! How dare that bitch…

His days had been filled with the need to pay her back somehow for the pain she caused him. It wasn’t rational, wasn’t thought out. It was only a raw need that would have scared him years before when he was of a better mind. Now, he was a mere shadow of the man he’d been. He didn’t care about how dark his thoughts were. Didn’t care about how frightening he was becoming. All he wanted was to pay that bitch back for ruining the only light in his life.

So he did.

He went to the house. Killed James Potter in the hallway. Kicked the fucking bastard’s dead body, even though it didn’t bring him any joy. He kicked it until he was sure ribs were broken. Even if Potter didn’t feel it anymore, he didn’t care.

Then he went to the nursery and there she was. She stood before her baby’s crib and he wanted so much to hate her but even then…even then he just….just….

“Not Harry. Not my baby.”

“Not you,” he responded, raising his wand. His face felt wet but he didn’t dare think about why. She looked into his eyes and her face calmed as she reached back to touch her child for the last time.

“I love you, Thomas.”

There was a flash of green and then she was laying still on the ground. He felt a sob well up in his throat as he fell to his knees beside her. He didn’t touch her, couldn’t bear to. Her deep green eyes stared lifelessly up at him and he cried. He wanted to take it back, make it never happen, kill himself if it would bring her back, but…

The infant began to cry. He got up, staring at the tiny little thing. Messy, raven black hair…Potter’s spawn… He felt the anger return, burn even hotter for that abomination. This child was the cause of her death! He was her executioner! He was….he was… a baby…an infant… an innocent.

The child cried for it’s mother, tears streaming down that plumb baby face.

He lifted his wand before he could stop himself. ‘Don’t worry, child, I’ll send you along with her, no need to be alone in this world…’

He couldn’t hate the child, even then. Couldn’t. His wand started to drop as his resolve lessened and disappeared.

And then his arm jerked up without his consent and his voice, too strong and almost a hissed sound, growled out the spell. A flash of green…

Thomas Riddle went to sleep and hoped never to wake again.

A/N: School's out! Now I can concentrate on my writing... Yay! Um...Harry's really whiny in this chap... He'll get better, promise.

Acknowledgements:

rayama - Thanks! I'm glad I'm able to keep interest
Spoon no Miko - The name rocks, by the way... Yeah. Snape can't die. Harry'd go nutso...
crazy-lil-nae-nae - Will do!
.. - Wow, couragous one aren't we? For your info, a child can be declared legally responsible for themselves at age 16 by emancipation.
..... - How annoying. This story does NOT take Book 6 into account. Therefore, I'm more free to shift events in the past. What does Grindlewauld have to do with Voldy anyway?
hittocerebattosai - Oh, I hate it when keyboards get out of wack!! Hope you got it fixed!
DestinyEntwinements - Yes, Harry's weird. lol
otakufea - ::blush:: I'm so glad you're enjoying this...I try hard to make powerful images and knowing I affect someone like that is really good for my self-esteem, lol
.... - Some people have weaker self-images that can be damaged by stronger personalities. That's what happened with Harry.
Seibutsusen - Oh my gods, you made my day...Just...I nearly cried at the compliments. THank you so much...
v v c - You'll prolly be waiting a while for the explaination, but it's not quite what most people think it is. ::laughs::
I-Y-T-Y - Thanks so much!!
Flensa - heh, thanks!
Angel no Yami - I enjoy Father!Voldie fics but I'm definately enjoying my own take on it..
Ron16 - I'm happy that the Ginny/Hermione couple has gone off so well. And Snape, Lupin, and Black are so fun to write...!
Illeanah - Heh, I'm glad you have your theories. THey make the writing so much more fun
Yasgur53 - I made someone like my Snape! YES!!!!! I just realized that he can be snarky AND a good guy at the same time. And I WILL eventually finish this...it just might take me a while.
AceZ-Shadow - Right now.
wover03 - Thanks so much for the detailed review. It helps me get better... Yeah, last chap wasn't my greatest but I can only write the story as it comes to me...