A Potion

A/N: Sorry for the wait again! Here’s chapter ten. A fairly dramatic one, to say in the least. Once again, thanks for the reviews. Warning: the story is almost over guys!

Previously in ‘A Potion’:

Ron turned to look at him and, with some resistance, Draco met his gaze. Ron nodded and with a strange rush of relief, Draco realized something. They knew. After all those years of fighting and insults, they knew. They knew he was on their side.

He drew his wand and straightened. The three walked out onto the grounds and stood before the most dangerous people on the planet, side by side, wands raised, and none of them felt fear. In fact, all apprehension seemed to vanish into the night air as they stood there.

The question was answered.

When?

Now.

Tonight.

This very moment.

It was time for the fate of the world to be decided.

Draco’s slender fingers tightened around his wand, and with a deep breath, he shouted.

“Stupefy!”
Chapter 10

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead, grimacing as his headache throbbed again. They’d been in their hiding place for the far end of three days now. At first, Severus’s consciousness had only been fleeting, but the potion worked at extraordinary speeds and he had woken for hours at a time now. Each of these times, Harry would promptly lock himself in the bathroom before Severus could utter a word. The Potion’s Master, keeping either dignity or respect, did not try to pry Harry from the room and let him be, a sad mist in his eyes. Harry would hide in there for hours, resolute not to leave the tiled haven until Severus was asleep once more. The only exchange they had was when Harry fed the Professor or gave him his potion, and neither seemed to desire speech, discontent and weak in their silence.

Harry was sitting in an armchair across from the fireplace, staring solemnly into the dancing flames. He glanced, almost painfully, over to Severus’s bed as he heard the man stir, and felt his heart stop as his eyes met with black coal. They sat that way for the longest time; staring at each other.

Severus had propped himself up against the headboard of his bed. His expression was firm and blank, but his eyes shone vigorously, as if he had decided something. Harry felt his emotions well up strongly and he could see images floating softly before his eyes.

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice begging and eyes not wavering from Severus’s. The images ceased immediately.

“Do not give me so little respect as to deem me unworthy of an answer, Harry,” Severus whispered after a moment.

Harry finally looked away, his emerald orbs straying once more to the fire. “I don’t…” he muttered. “How can you not know?”

“I did everything I could. You know that,” Severus said, his voice much stronger than before. He sounded as if he understood Harry, but he didn’t. Confusion twisted inside him like a monster, clawing at him and taunting him to cry out.

“Yes, I know,” Harry replied, his voice now a whisper as Severus’s had been before. “But it wasn’t that, and I think you know that too. It’s understandable-”

“Then what was it?!” Severus growled, grimacing as he felt his ribs clench angrily. “You said you loved me and yet you spat everything I gave you back in my face! Tell me how that is understandable, Potter!”

Harry winced at the sound of his last name and his face reddened. “It wasn’t real, Snape,” he spat, immediately feeling his heart wrench at the statement.

Severus’s face was no longer calm, but shocked and angry. “Wasn’t real?” It was as if he had felt the need to repeat it in order to more understand the words. To Harry, the repetition only drove the dagger deeper into his heart. But he couldn’t stop now. It was the truth. None of it had been real. It was all because he grabbed the wrong stupid pumpkin juice one morning. It was all because of… “Some stupid potion,” Harry grumbled aloud. He jumped when he realized he had spoken. At first, he felt horrified that he had let that slip. He had never spoken a word of Lavender’s potion to Severus.

Then, a kind of grudging and uncomfortable calm settled over him. Finally, he had said it. He had said what had worried him all along; the fact that had haunted him so much that he had not even thought of it too strongly.

It was all because of a potion.

Severus sat, stunned, and he looked away from Harry as one of his slim hands clenched into a fist. What Harry had just said couldn’t be more cruel. It’s couldn’t possibly be true. Harry loved him! Had it all been a lie? Every kiss, every touch, every time they made love? Was none of it real? Severus felt a wave of anguished humiliation wash over him. He, the Potion’s Master, had been fooled by none other than a potion.

Severus wanted to ask. He desperately wanted to. Was it true? He was afraid. He hated to admit it, but he was. Severus Snape was afraid to ask one simple question. He was afraid of the answer. “Is that true?” Severus choked, his shame only growing in his stammer.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut short as he heard a grinding hiss sound from behind his chair. Harry shot up from his chair and whirled around to face the source of the sound. He heard Severus stand from his bed hastily behind him. A dark, sleek body slithered from behind the maroon leather.

“Nagini!” Harry exclaimed, recognizing Voldemort’s loyal pet snake.

“What the hell?” Severus grunted.

“Hello Potter boyyyyy,” Nagini hissed lowly, bobbing her head in the air. “Masssster issss comiiiiing.” Even through her scaly features, Harry could see a reptilian grin.

Harry turned to give Severus a terrified look, but he slapped himself mentally when he realized that Severus wasn’t a Parselmouth. “She says Voldemort is coming…” Harry didn’t seem to believe the words himself. “I… I don’t know what she means.”

Instead of surprise, which Harry had expected, Severus merely frowned and his eyes darkened. “It had to happen eventually.”

“But I don’t understand!” Harry cried out. “We were supposed to be in hiding! How in the world did he know where to find us?”

“Don’t be dense,” Severus stated as he nodded towards the snake on the ground. “Nagini is part of the Dark Lord. It’s obvious that she has a connection with him.”

Harry’s eyes widened in realization. “He sent her to track us! Even so, how did she get here?”

“You act as if I know all of the answers,” Severus furrowed his brows and glared down at the gleaming reptile.

“Heyyyyy,” Nagini hissed, obviously not enjoying her lack of attention. “I’m sssstill here, you know. Don’ttt be foolishhh Potter boyyy. It wassss easssy for meee to ssslip into your baggg.”

Harry was too frantic to listen to the gloating snake. Instead, he was panicking. “No one’s here! We’re all alone! We can’t defend ourselves like this!” Harry was pacing heatedly around the room, waving his arms about and clutching them to himself every few moments as if he feared they would fall off with his gesticulations.

He was interrupted in his paranoid rant by a loud crash above him. The three occupants of the room all turned their eyes upwards as the room began to shake. Harry shouted as a large chunk of the stone ceiling fell down to the floor and broke into a thousand dirty pieces.

“Wait!” Severus yelled over the horrendous roar of shaking stone. “I think I know where we are! Harry!”

Harry was still holding himself like a wounded child. He turned to the Professor to see him waving towards him; beckoning him. Harry went to him without hesitation and Severus grabbed his arm roughly.

“I was too weak to feel it before,” the older man said, his raven hair falling at strange angles around his pale face. “Just now, I felt the dropping of magical wards. Those are Hogwarts wards. No other feeling. I’m sure of it.”

“Dumbledore hid us in Hogwarts?!” Harry shouted. “What the hell kind of ridiculous plan is that?”

“Well it was the last thing you expected, wasn’t it?” Severus retorted, looking Harry in the eye.

Harry swallowed, but didn’t reply. It was true. The last thing he would have thought of was to hide in the castle when that was the last place he was supposed to be. Ingenious, but fallible, as Nagini had proven.

Without warning, Severus apparated them from the room. Harry felt his body dissolve into imperceptible bits for the slightest moment. Then, they were standing in the middle of a Hogwarts corridor.

“So we were here…” Harry sighed. “That means all of my friends are in danger...” As if Harry’s own words had inspired him, he immediately drew his wand and straightened. A muddle of screaming voices could be heard down the hall, and Harry took off towards the garbled speech with a valiant speed, Severus not far behind him.

Harry didn’t have time to think. He knew what it meant. He felt it. The day had come. Voldemort had finally risen from hiding in the shadows, and he had come for Harry. Harry’s fear had been blinding at first, but the years had shaped him, and he was no longer a child. Passion and bravery took over, and the only thought on his mind was settling this once and for all. It was time to finish this.

It didn’t help, though, that a single line was continuously running through his mind. It was a line from the prophecy, and he knew that this would be the day the prophecy was to be fulfilled. “… either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…” This meant someone was going to die. It was inevitable, Harry knew. He wanted desperately to win. He wanted to triumph over Voldemort and stop the nightmare that surrounded him, but that meant he’d have to kill someone. That meant he’d have to be a murderer.

That thought was even more horrifying than his own death. At times, the young Gryffindor had laid awake night after night, wondering, hoping, dreaming that there was some other way to succeed; that there was some other way to live up to his title as The Boy Who Lived. Ron had just told him that it was ridiculous. Voldemort was not a person, he was pure evil. Even so, it would feel like killing a person, and no matter how vile their core was, they still had flesh. Harry could hardly stomach the idea of murder. Could he even do it? Would he come to face his greatest foe and have his blood run cold and his body fall heavy? Would he fail?

Harry whirled around the corner at great speed, his trainers squeeking along the marble floor as he slid by. He hadn’t realized that he was near the Great Hall, which was now what greeted his eyes. Along with the sight stood one very enthused looking Lucius Malfoy, whose wand was pointed straight at Harry’s chest.

Harry heard the shout of Severus calling out a spell and the raspy voice of his opponent, but being preoccupied with Lucius aiming to kill him, Harry had much more to worry about at the moment.

“Well, well, well,” Lucius drawled. “What do we have here? My master will be so terribly pleased when I bring him your dead and mangled body.” He sneered. “Oh yes. Very pleased indeed.”

Harry jerked his wand in the elder Malfoy’s direction, a spell halfway out his mouth before Lucius uttered “Expelliarmus!”, sending Harry’s wand flying across the room to clatter on the wooden top of the Ravenclaw table.

“Now, Potter,” Lucius spat, raising his wand in the air as Harry stared on, helpless. “Time to die, you insignificant little brat!” He waved his wand forward. “Avada Ked-“

“Avada Kedavra!” a voice shouted from behind Harry. A jet of green light shot past Harry’s ear, singing the hair around it. It hit Lucius square in the chest and his body twisted backwards like he was pulled quickly by a large, invisible rope. He fell slumped next to the Gryffindor table, his eyes open and glossy and staring into nothingness. Lucius Malfoy was dead.

Harry was almost afraid to turn around. Even though the person had saved him, he felt fear for that curse. Whoever uttered it could not help but to insight a quaver in his skin. He turned slowly, and who he saw was not at all who he expected.

“Malfoy…?”

Draco grimaced at the utterance and glared daggers at Harry. “You saved my life, I saved yours. I won’t be indebted to you, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Draco cut him off. “Didn’t think I forgot, did you? Blow to my pride as it was Potter, it was still, regrettably… generous of you.”

“But he’s…” Harry glanced back at the sprawled body of Lucius. His white-golden hair was thrown about his gaunt cheeks in an almost angelic display. “He was your father.”

“And he would have done the same to me,” Draco stated bluntly. “I didn’t do that just for you, Potter. Don’t think this changes anything. I’m still your rival.”

“I…” Harry was at a loss for words. He couldn’t believe Draco had not only saved his life, but killed his own father in doing so! Hary felt guilty for doubting Malfoy’s loyalties. He’d always had a feeling the Slytherin had been on their side, but he’d judged him by the actions of his father and his own snarky attitude; and he had to admit, he’d assume the worse about the cocky boy. “Thank you.”

“Shut up.” Draco waved Harry away. “I believe you have some unfinished business with someone anyway. Quit standing around here like an idiot, Potter.”

Harry faltered for a moment, unsure of what to do, but he nodded and forced his feet to move. Draco was right. He had to find Voldemort.

“Potter.”

Harry craned his neck to face Draco once more. A pair a siler eyes met his own and Harry felt the other student’s desperation radiate through them. Draco sighed and his grip tightened around his wand. He opened his mouth once, but no sound came out, so he tried again, and croaked two words from his chapped lips.

“Don’t lose.”

Harry found it difficult to swallow as he forced saliva down past the lump in his throat. “I won’t.” He felt decietful fo such a promise, but he couldn’t say anything else. Morbid as it was, something about the fact that Draco had fought for him, killed for him, made him feel empowered. Harry felt as if the boy before him was everyone in the world; all depending on him. Everyone needed him to win. “I promise.”

Draco’s countenance did not waver, but for one imperceptable nod, but Harry saw it and gave his own. And with one last look into each others eyes, as if to derive comfort from one who had once been a rival, they both turned to face their demons, both praying over and over again that they would live to see tommorrow.

As soon as Harry was out of sight, Draco collapsed to his knees, his eyes set upon his father’s crumpled form. He began to tremble as though he’d been left out in a blizzard for far too long and he bowed his head, a lone tear streaking to the tip of his pale nose. “Don’t lose, Potter…” he repeated. “For Merlin’s sake, don’t lose.”

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Ron fell to the ground. His leg jolted painfully as the severing charm slashed by it and a gash appeared moments later through his torn robes. “Dammit!” he cried, as he felt the warmth of his blood seep down into his sock.

“Ron!” Hermione screamed, casting a sheild as yet another jinx careened her way. She looked frantic, her bushy hair in even more of a tangle than usual.

“I’m fine, ‘Mione!” Ron hollered, trying to console her in whatever way he could.

He was, of course, not fine. None of them were fine, or even ok, or satisfactory. They were in terrible trouble. The Death Eaters hadn’t killed any of them yet. They were toying with them, making them suffer. They were succeeding, as it were.

A few comrades had joined them over the moments. Ginny had returned with not only Professors, McGonnagal, Flitwick, and Hooch, but a few students as well; many of which had been in Dumbledore’s Army the year previously. Dumbledore had set off in search of Harry, and they had yet to see either of them, though the night was not the kindest on the eyes. Hagrid had heard the commotion from his hut and had come up from behind the Death Eaters; but there’s not much one can do with a pink umbrella. The giant, lucky as he was, had a thick skin, and many minor spells bounced right off of him; but they wouldn’t be minor for long.

“Crucio!” squeeled one awful looking Bellatrix Lestrange as she jerked her ebony wand towards Ginny. Ginny’s scream echoed into the night and chilled the marrow of those good people around her. Her shrieks aided Ron in forgetting his leg and jumping up. He ran furiously after the cackling woman who held his sister in pain and bellowed, “Relashio!” sending the witch backwards with her robes singed.

“Thank you, R-Ron,” Ginny stutter, struggling to get to her feet.

“I don’t want you out here, Gin,” Ron grumbled, helping her to her feet.

“I’m a year younger than you Ron!” Ginny replied defiantly, “And it’s safer out here with you than alone and with a Death Eater, should I come across one!”

“Well let’s have you come across one, dearest!” howled a Death Eater nearby. He had long since discarded his robe and mask and his eyes looked ravenous.

“Ron!” Hermione yelled, looking mortified as she casted stupefy to a nearby enemy. “That’s Fenrir Greyback!”

“The werewolf?” Ron inquired as he looked upon the grinning man before him. “It’s not a full moon.”

“Oh,” Fenrir licked his lips and gave Ginny a decidedly nasty smirk. “But I don’t need a full moon to taste her sweet skin, now do I?”

This sent Ron over the edge. “Keep your filthy hands off my sister, you bastard!” Ron’s face contorted with rage. “Reducto!” He shouted. A jet of red light streaked towards the disturbed man only to be knocked out of its path by another spell.

“Now, now, Weasley,” Lestrange ticked, clucking her tongue like a disapproving mother. “Not very nice to cast that so close, you know. That could’ve killed him, little boy.” She wiped at her burnt robe asentmindedly, looking at it like a child would a dead pet. “Let’s play, boy.”

Before Ron could respond, she casted three curses towards him. He rolled out of the way and soon the two were entreched in a vicious duel. Meanwhile, Ginny was casting spell after spell at the drooling man that was slowly advancing upon her. He dodged them all with ridiculous agility and a gnarled hand shot out to grab her wrist. He wrenched her forward and pulled her to her chest. She sobbed dryly as his breath, reeking of rotted fish and sour milk, filled her nostrils. “Hello, pretty girl,” he purred, “Want to die nice and slow?”

Suddenly, he was tackled from the side. Ginny fell back a few feet from the force of the tackle and watched in a terrified amazement as Nevile Longbottom wrestled the oversized man. She’d never seen Neville look so powerful as he looked right then. No magic was being used as the Gryffindor sent his plant-loving fist into Fenrir’s cheek with a loud slap. Fenrir was clawing at Neville’s sides and his clothing and skin began to rip. Ginny rushed over to the two to aid her friend.

Hermione had been battling side by side with Luna as the elder Crabbe an Goyle continued to send an idiotic swirl of curses their way. “Petrificus Totalus!” Luna gasped when she saw a curse fly at her from behind her own. Without time to block, she took it full in the shoulder and felt the joint protest at the impact and come unhinged. She screamed in pain.

“Luna?!” Hermione turned to her agonized comrade.

“Dislocated,” Luna answered in huffed breath. “But don’t worry, my dad writes for the Quibbler and he says that disclocations are merely just overly exaggerated bruises, and that it’s much worse to have a horklump stuck to your back.”

Hermione didn’t have time to ponder this strange statement as a jet of yellow light flew past her head and into the night. She knew Luna would be fine, but she covered her anyway, fearing her friend’s ability to defend herself with one arm. She took a moment to glance around her. Draco was not in sight. He had run after two Death Eaters who had gone into the castle. Ron and Lestrange were still going at it. It looked as if the wound on Ron’s leg had gotten caked with mud and was no longer bleeding. Ginny and Neville were both fiercly battling Fenrir as a nameless Death Eater snuck up behind them. McGonnagal was swift to notice, though, and she hexed him before he reached the three.

But no matter the battle that was taking place; whether it was with an untransformed werewolf, a crazy witch, or two equally dumb wizards, everyone had the exactly the same thought on their mind as the gleaming Dark Mark shone in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the grounds like green moonlight.

“Where is Voldemort, and where is Harry Potter?”

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Harry was sprinting through the halls of the school towards the main entrance. He didn’t know where he was going, he just went. He forehead throbbed with another sting from his scar. Voldemort was close. He could feel it. As he saw the gargantuan doors, another thing crossed into his vision. Severus flew through the air into a large stone wall. His body thudded loudly as he made contact with the unforgiving foundation and he fell to the ground in a heap. Harry felt all the color drain from his face and he ran over to the fallen man.

“Severus!” Harry panted, shaking him. “Severus, please!”

Severus moaned. “Harry, behind yo-”

But Harry never heard the end of that sentence as his body was thrown upwards by an invisible force. His limbs moved on their own accord as he was slammed into the same wall Severus had been only moments before. Harry didn’t want to look down, but tha invisible force made him, and his eyes fell upon the nightmare himself: Lord Voldemort. His red, slitted eyes glared maliciously up at the young wizard and his sickly greenish hand was extended towards Harry. He jerked his knuckles a bit and Harry felt his body crush even harder into the stone. He cried out.

Voldemort chuckled. “Harry,” he hissed, his tone falsely soothing. “I can feel you struggle Harry. Does it hurt? Does it hurt as you feel your body, weak and helpless, crushing into nothingness? I hope it does.” He smiled and pushed his hand forward more, causing Harry to give a pained gasp as a few tears slipped out from behind his tightly closed eyelids. “Open your eyes, Harry,” Voldemort dragged out his name as if tasting the word. “Yes, open them. Look at my face. I said open them!” He forced his hand forward and Harry’s eyes opened in shock. His breath was now shaky and raspy. He glared down at the villian.

Voldemort exhaled triumphantly and waved his free hand in a salute. “Yes, yes,” he breathed, “See my eyes? I want them,” he coughed, his excitement seemingly overwhelming him, “To be the last thing you see.” He moved to press Harry further, to crush him into oblivion, but as Harry’s screams echoed throughout the castle, Severus’s mind kicked into action.

Severus stood slowly, watching as the Dark Lord crushed his former lover to death. Harry; his Harry. He couldn’t let this happen to him! Knowing it would most likely be the last thing he ever did, Severus threw a hex at his former master. Voldemort’s magical aura was too powerful, however, and it merel pushed him forward ever so slightly. Furious, Voldemort whirled around, his snake-like nose crinkled in ire. “Severus,” he growled, “How nice to see you!” With the last words he swung his wand towards the discovered spy and sent him hurtling backwards at great speeds.

Little did he know that his hold had weakened on Harry just enough to let the boy fall from his grasp, choking and wheezing, to the floor. Harry looked up to see Severus slam into what looked like some sort of magical barrier, but his confusion as to the source was not long-lived.

“You!” Voldemort cried angrily, pointing a crooked finger at the old wizard that stood regally across from them. Albus Dumbledore had caught Severus midair, safely keeping him from any further damage, and now he was gently lowering him to the floor, as he was once more unconscious.

“Tom,” Dumbledore said finally. “This is the las time you terrorize anyone whom I have found it my duty to protect.”

“Do tell me how you plan to prove that theory, you old buffoon,” the dark wizard retorted. “I’d love to see it.” He scoffed.

“As much as I wish that I could be the one to do this, for the sake of the people at this school and for Harry,” Dumbledore turning his twinkling eyes to Harry. Harry knew the twinkle was not as much out of confidence as it was out of sympathy, but it consoled him nonetheless. “I am not the one who can finally lay you to rest, Tom Riddle.”

“Do not call me by my filthy muggle father’s name, old man!” Voldemort shouted, enraged. “I will not fall tonight. It is you and that ridiculous ‘Boy Who Lived’! And now and forever everyone will truly know who is the strongest and to be most feared wizard in the world! Lord Voldemort will be known this night more than ever! Do you hear me?”

Dumbledore did not reply. He was staring at Harry. His face, calm, collected, and kind even now, showed no question to his message. ‘Be strong Harry.’ Harry knew it was now or never. He stood on wobbling legs and raised his wand in what he hoped would be the last time he would ever encounter this evil man.

“Voldemort!” He snarled. “You will not destroy everything I care about!”

The man in questions turned, scowl still set in place, and he raised his wand slowly to match Harry’s own. “This, my dear, dear Harry,” he smiled murderously, “Is the day I’ve been waiting for. Even in death, I want you to remember that I killed you and that I will kill everyone you love. One by one, your friends will fall, but not until they see you, Harry. With your pretty, dead eyes staring through them. With your scar no longer a sign of triumph but defeat at my hand!”

“Quit talking and prove it you foul bastard!” Harry screamed, summoning all the anger he could feel within him. He remembered the years of torment caused by none other than Voldemrt himself. He thought of Cedric, and Sirius, and Remus, and his parents. He thought of all the people who had protected him, set all their faith in him. He thought of Severus and how much he had done for him; how much he had loved him. He thought of every breath he had every taken and every year with the Dursleys. It was now that this wretched life of death and misery and fear would stop. It was time, once and for all, for Voldmort to fall!

Harry felt all of the power and courage that he had ever known fill him, and he knew he was ready. As he opened his mouth and bellowed the words that he never thought would fall from his lips, he felt nothing but pure, unadultered, love for all the people who had ever been endangered by the man in front of him. He had been told once that it required nothing but evil and rage to cast such a curse, but he knew now that this was not true. As he thought of his friends, of Severus, of his parents and all the people he lost, Harry felt nothing but an urge to live up to what he meant to them and to protect them. This was his fate, his destiny, and it was all for them. He felt all fear of death slip away and any regard for his own life was gone. His power crackled around him and he closed his eyes as he let one last face flash before his eyes; Severus.

Harry could faintly hear Voldemort call out the curse. “Avada Kedavra!” It echoed in the back of his mind, but all Harry knew was the raven hair, the obsidian eys, and the pale, defined face; and he let go.

“Avada Kedavra!” Harry hollered, and two jets of green light met.

A blast of unfathomable proportions shook the castle and green light filled it. The battles outside stopped, and enemies lowered their weapons as they all stared in kind as the sky filled with an ethereal brightness from within the castle. The very ground began to shake and everyone, no matter their loyalties, felt their hearts stop at such raw and powerful dark magic. As the two sides clashed and the powers met, they were equal.

Harry forced all he had into the curse and he realized he was screaming. Voldemort was doing the same. He scratchy, fowl voice could be heard howling over the roar of the magic. They pushed. Back and forth, back and forth; the deadliest tango. Over the light and the roar, their eyes met. Crimson and emerald.

And both of them wondered which one was going to die.

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Not much left guys! I’d say 1 or 2 chapters left and that’s it! Woo! I tried to really make a connection between people here. I wanted to show what everyone meant to each other and that the line between what is right and wrong and good in evil is much more fine than we can make it.

It probably sucked, but oh well. And sorry for typos or anthing My spell checker isn’t working, for some reason…..

Parselmouth: Someone who can speak to snakes.

Relashio: A spell which creates heat from the end of the wand. If said strongly enough, it can knock a person off their feet.
Horklump: A small, pink magical creature who likes to eat worms.