Standing Against the Tides

Last time I looked at my driver’s license, it did not say J. K. Rowling. Yep, it’s just me, an unpaid and unknown aspiring writer. The characters of the Potterverse do not belong to me and I am making no money from this endeavor.

A/N: Spoilers through OotP. As I am still in denial, I refuse to acknowledge the events of HBP or DH at this point.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is busy with her own life.


Chapter 13 Phoenix Burning

The rest of the week passed quietly enough, with Dobby overseeing an irate former Headmaster in his tower office and with the two professors struggling to run the school surreptitiously. After several heated discussions regarding the matter, Minerva and Severus had reluctantly agreed that they needed to meet with Harry the next Saturday morning after breakfast.

Neither liked the idea of having to tell Harry just how much the older wizard had betrayed them all; they both knew that the young man had had enough of being misled and lied to over the years. The trick now would be to figure out how much to tell him without revealing too much. The one thing they both agreed upon was that Harry Potter was still a volatile and powerful young wizard and it wouldn’t do to have him lose control of his magic.


Harry threw himself into his studies the next few days in an effort to forget just how strange his life had gotten. It certainly didn’t help that he could feel a definite connection to the castle that just seemed to strengthen as the days passed. Thankfully Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape seemed to be handling most of the necessary duties of running the school.

The reluctant new Headmaster of Hogwarts was rather surprised that few were questioning the absence of Professor Dumbledore. Though, Harry recalled that the older wizard often was gone for days at a time during the school year. So, perhaps they had a few more days left before they would have to explain anything.


Over the next few days, Severus struggled to function in a somewhat normal manner. He felt altogether all too confused and preoccupied for his comfort. Now that he had rediscovered his heart’s desire, Severus found that he was unable to think of much else. His dreams were filled with visions of verdant green eyes, tempting lips and a firm body. It seemed as if his long dormant libido had suddenly found a new purpose in life. Nearly every night he awoke in the early morning hours with a raging hard-on and an aching need.


The next Saturday Harry quickly ate his breakfast before nodding to his friends and heading down to the Potions master’s office. Curious as to what his co-conspirators had to say, Harry knew that he had quite a few questions of his own.

The young Gryffindor took a deep breath before raising a hand to knock at the Potions master’s office door. Upon hearing the terse order to enter, Harry hastened to obey and closed the door securely behind him. Looking up, he saw his Head of House primly sitting across from the stern Head of Slytherin House.

Sighing, Harry took the only other chair and waited for one of his professors to speak.

“Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said crisply. “I trust that you are well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry politely answered. He really wished they would get on with it.

Frowning, Severus was unknowingly of the same opinion. The Potions master who prided himself on punctuality and efficiency saw little need for inane chatter. “Mr. Potter,” he began silkily, “as pleasant as all this is, there actually is a reason we have called you here.”

The green-eyed young man shifted slightly in his seat as he struggled to hide a smile at his professor’s usual alacrity. “I assumed as much, Professor,” Harry managed to say with a straight face. Even with the recent revelations, he was well aware that it wouldn’t do to get on the Potions master’s bad side. Of course, Harry wasn’t even sure if the man actually had a good side…

Severus tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought to restrain his rampant emotions. He could not afford to lose the tight control he normally held over himself. “Mr. Potter,” he began again. “After much discussion, Professor McGonagall and I have decided that you should be made aware of certain facts.”

As the young man opened his mouth to comment, the Potions master raised a hand to forestall any remarks. “While we feel that it would be inadvisable to fully disclose these facts, we understand that you have had entirely too much information withheld from you and that it would be a grave disservice to attempt such folly.”

Minerva dabbed a handkerchief to her mouth to disguise her chuckle of amusement at her colleague’s dry discourse. Harry coughed to try to cover his own laughter. It seemed that the man could never just say something in simple English.

“Sir?” Harry simply asked.

“Yes, Severus, please do elaborate,” Minerva couldn’t help but add.

Scowling at the animagus, Severus continued as if he had not been interrupted, “Though it pains me to have to ask this, we feel it important that some things remain undisclosed for the time being. Unfortunately, the Headmaster’s treachery ran deep and the scars will linger for some time. As it is, there is too much that needs your undivided attention and we are concerned that learning the truth would be more harmful than beneficial to you at the moment.”

Harry sat back as he considered his professor’s words. It was certainly true that he had disliked being lied to, even if it was by omission. But he had the unnerving feeling that Snape was right and that hearing just how much Dumbledore had betrayed them all would be more than he could handle at the moment. For a reason he couldn’t name, Harry somehow trusted the acerbic Potions master more than he had trusted anyone before.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gazed expectantly at the older man. He knew that if this were Dumbledore facing him he would have likely railed against being kept in the dark, but for some strange reason, Harry knew that Snape would tell him if he truly believed it was in Harry’s best interest. He and the irascible professor had often butted heads, but Harry knew that the man had always been there for him. Odd how no matter how much he had liked and looked up to the Headmaster, Harry had never quite felt as if he could fully trust the wily old wizard.

Making up his mind, Harry spoke, “All right, sir. I will accept, for now, that there are things best left unsaid. However, I do wish to be allowed to hear the evidence against Dumbledore at some point.”

The fact that neither professor corrected Harry’s lack of a formal address towards their employer spoke volumes about their own disillusionment. Nodding, Minerva stood and motioned for the men to remain seated. “Gentlemen,” she said crisply, “I do have other things to which I must attend. I trust that you can finish this discussion without me.” So saying, the witch smoothed her robes and left the room.

Harry turned back to the Potions master to see that the man seemed to be stifling a smile. Shaking his head, he turned his mind back to the matter at hand. Thoughtfully, he tilted his head and regarded his professor. “He hurt you, didn’t he?” Harry asked quietly.

Severus bit back a scathing retort and sighed. If he wanted to have a chance with this young man he needed to try to be more approachable. “Yes, he did. I trusted him and believed in his concern for me, but it turned out that I was only a tool to him,” he said, with more than a tinge of sadness and regret creeping through.

“And you don’t trust easily…” Harry gently prodded.

Spearing his student with an inquisitive glare, Severus reluctantly reflected that perhaps Po – Harry did have a better grasp of the situation than he had previously given the boy credit for.

After a bit more stilted conversation Harry wondered why he and the Potions master had still needed to talk. Unless Harry was very much mistaken, his professor was just about as uncomfortable as he himself felt. And Harry had to admit that he had never seen the man so unnerved before.

While still trying to wrap his mind around that bit of information, Harry was startled when the older man hissed and grabbed his left arm. “He’s calling you,” Harry stated.

“Yes,” the Potions master growled as he stood.

Harry stood too, a sudden feeling of foreboding flooding his mind. “No, sir!” he gasped. “You can’t go. He knows. Voldemort knows about you!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Potter,” Severus ground out. “I have to go, there is no question.”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, a fierce light entering his eyes. Somehow he knew that allowing his potions professor to leave would be allowing the man to die. And that could not happen. Not while he could prevent it.

Dark eyes searched green ones as Severus tried to discover the truth. How could the boy know that? Was the slight chance that his student was right enough to throw away his cover as a spy? “Potter, perhaps the Headmaster had it right and my only purpose is to act the spy for the Light,” Severus quietly said.

Harry shook his head as he immediately rejected such a statement. Surely this man could not believe that his only use in life was to be a pawn? In that moment, the young man decided that his professor was now under his aegis and as such Harry would do everything within his power to protect the surly Potions master. In answer to his silent request the door to the dungeon hallway shimmered and disappeared.

“Potter! What have you done?” the spy demanded.

Raising his bright green eyes to meet the carefully veiled eyes of the older man. “I have ensured that you will live, sir,” Harry responded quietly. “I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself to Dumbledore’s insanity. For that is what is wrong with him, isn’t it?”

Severus sighed. If the castle was going to aid the brat in his quest to ‘protect’ him, there was little he could do to stop it. “One could only hope, Mr. Potter. One could only hope,” he muttered, even as he sat back in his chair in defeat. Giving little indication of the acute discomfort caused by the Dark Mark, Severus took a deep breath. He knew from whispered stories that those who had dared to ignore the Dark Lord’s summons would soon experience pain through the Mark that would escalate into an almost unbearable agony. How ironic, he thought as the burning sensation grew. Potter was going to kill him in the process of saving him.

Pinning the older man with a thoughtful gaze, Harry watched as his professor struggled to contain any evidence of his growing discomfort. “He is punishing you for not appearing,” Harry stated. Not waiting for confirmation, Harry shook his head and stepped forward. Clearing his mind, he silently asked Hogwarts to give him the power to do what should have been done years ago.

The young Gryffindor calmly took the Potions master’s left forearm and pulled the heavy robe back, revealing the ugly, writhing tattoo. Harry could clearly see that the Mark was bubbling and boiling beneath the pale skin. Placing his hand over the angry Mark, Harry closed his eyes and drew upon his magical core. Focusing all of his attention on drawing the power necessary to accomplish his goal, Harry could feel the castle feeding him the strength he required to purge the hateful Dark Mark. Eyes closed, the young wizard couldn’t see the ethereal green glow emanating from his hands and slowly encompassing the Potions master’s arm and tattoo. Harry did hear the surprised gasp wrung from the older man’s lips as he felt the Dark Mark dissolve from the inside out.

After several moments, Harry sighed and slowly opened his eyes. Smiling, he carefully examined the now unblemished skin on the professor’s left forearm. Looking up, he met the amazed gaze of the astonished ex-Death Eater. “How…” Severus asked weakly.

Harry gave a lopsided grin as he considered his answer. “I simply wanted the Mark to be gone and Hogwarts helped me,” Harry quietly answered. “The thing I don’t understand is that Dumbledore could have just as easily done this at any time, but he chose not too…”

“I was too valuable to him as a marked Death Eater,” Severus said, with more than a hint of bitterness coloring his words.

Any response Harry might have made was cut off by the sudden appearance of an obviously distraught house-elf.

“Oh, Mr. Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby began miserably. “I is trying to calm down Dumbly, but he is being most unhappy, sir.”

Harry knelt down beside Dobby and laid a comforting hand on the bony shoulder. “Take a deep breath,” he commanded. “Now what is it, Dobby? What has happened with Dumbledore?”

“Dumbly is most unhappy, Harry Potter, sir. He is throwing things and yelling that the professor should have gone to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He is saying that now the professor cannot be punished for betraying him. He is saying that all of his plans is being ruined now.”

Harry turned troubled eyes to his professor, “How did he know, sir? Just how much has he been manipulating?”

No answer was forthcoming as the dark-haired man pondered this new development.

Dobby continued to bounce up and down in his agitation. “I is being afraid that there is more, Harry Potter, sir. Dumbly’s bird burst into flame and vanished. Now Dumbly is most furious and screaming about more betrayal.”

Now both men were rendered speechless at this unexpected news. Fawkes had left Dumbledore?