Replica

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Severus and Harry belong to J.K.Rowling. It is just fanfiction – no money’s made.
Feedback: Yes, please! I\'d love to know what you think!
A/N: Thanks and a big hug to my beta dragonquills


II. Reveal yourself

The whomping willow was whipping her dark boughs angrily through the cool November air, with loud swishing sounds that would have made any bird stop their singing if there had been any, but none of the multitudinous birds living at the wide grounds and forests of Hogwarts would get near the malicious tree.

So the old dark tree stood completely unobserved in the backyard of the ancient castle, surrounded by the dim light of what could have been a peaceful evening (if it hadn’t been for the angry swishes of branches) as a pale hand reached out of the secret tunnel which laid between the strong roots of the willow.

Blindly groping fingers fumbled their way across the muddy layer of rain-soaked leaves gathered at the willow’s feet, until they reached their evident goal – a small knob at one of the gnarly roots.

Suddenly the beating and the swishing of the whip-like boughs stopped, and the whole grim tree froze, standing in absolute silence.

Only the crunching of small stones and the breaking of dead branches laying at the willow’s feet revealed that there was actually someone who climbed out of the dirty tunnel, and if it hadn’t been for the layer of dead leaves there would surely have been a track of footprints on the muddy ground, leading from the tree towards the castle.


*********

“Pro-professor Snape?”

Rising one black eyebrow, Snape looked up from the book he was reading and into light blue eyes, which were nervously blinking. “Yes, Mrs Sweeney?” he asked, glaring at the small blond girl standing in front of his desk.

The timid girl seemed to shrink even further under his dark glare, and her fingers fumbled nervously at the hem of her school cloak.

“It’s clean.” She squeaked. “The last cauldron…I mean…”

Saying nothing, just placing his book on his desk, Snape rose from his chair and walked over to the working bench where Emma Sweeney had been cleaning cauldrons for the last two hours.

He examined the row of the twelve cauldrons suspiciously, taking one after another up to examine the inside and the bottom of the cauldrons, but he wasn’t able to find anything to complain. Maybe Mrs Sweeney’s talents were cleaning rather than brewing.

“You may leave.” He said in his dark voice, and set the last clean and shiny cauldron down on the working table.

With a mumbled ‘Thank you’ the blond girl gathered her books, and left the classroom within a minute, obviously relieved to escape Snape’s presence.

“And Mr. Keaton? Do you think you will be able to finish your work in this life?”

In the back of the potions classroom a flushed face framed in sweaty brown curls appeared from under a desk in the last row. The desk where Keaton was usually sitting during potions, of course.

Adrian Keaton, a tall boy with a friendly face, was in Severus’ opinion the personification of an annoying student. Keaton was insolent, careless, clumsy, and made no attempt to catch up his unacceptable lack of knowledge. Deep inside Severus’ knew that it wasn’t the fault of the students that their knowledge was as bad as it was. The years of the war against Voldemort had made teaching at Hogwarts nearly impossible. Most of the staff had been occupied supporting the Order, and most parents had ordered their children back home as it became clear that a war was unavoidable.

After the war the students of three years, who had neither been sorted into one of the Houses, nor had any training of their talents, were waiting to pick up their education – as were the students who had to leave Hogwarts without their graduation because of the war. But in this large group of bad educated pupils were naturally some who didn’t even try to better their grades, and one of those were Keaton. The boy refused any good advice to catch up his marks, and Severus Snape thoroughly hated this arrogant behaviour.

Furthermore Keaton was the only student who was ranked “as-annoying-as-Potter” on Snape’s inner ranking of students.

“Uhm, it’s the floor, Professor. I can hardly get it off the stones. If I might use…”

Snape interrupted the boy’s attempt to ask for a cleaning spell: “No spells! As long as you tend to ruin your potions like a Muggle, you will have to clean your mess up in the muggle way as well.”

Without any further comment and ignoring the muttered word, which may have been a weak protest, Severus turned around to get back to his desk, as his eyes felt on the classroom door.

It was open.

He was sure that he had heard the low thud of a closing door when Emma Sweeney had left the room. Also would Mrs Sweeney not dare to leave without closing the door.

Severus turned and made the few steps to the door, listening closely for any sign of an intruder.

The corridor was empty and Severus closed the classroom door with the low thud the door always made when it was closed. Then he remained silent; just standing there, waiting and pretending to watch Keaton finishing his detention.

He was intensely listening, hoping to hear any noise – from the corridor perhaps, or in the classroom, but he couldn’t hear anything unusual. Maybe the intruder used a spell to cover himself…or the person had an invisibility cloak.

‘Potter.’

Suddenly he was sure that there actually was someone in his classroom. Someone he knew too well and someone he had never thought of seeing again. Wouldn’t it be typical for Potter not to obey and sneak in over an hour earlier than he was expected to appear? He would certainly be impertinent enough and have the nerve to spy on him.

With all his willpower he suppressed the urge to test an \"Accio Invisibility cloak!\" and instead took a tiny silver ring out of one inner pocket of his black robe. He wasn’t a spy for nothing.

The ring was a small and unimpressive, but very useful device to detect magic. It did in no way work as properly as a detection spell, but it hadn’t to be activated by word, and so it was really unimposing.

Carefully he opened the pale hand, which held the silver ring and waited. Depending of the strength of magic used, the ring should change temperature or colour, but nothing happened. So if there was anyone besides Keaton in this room, the person hadn’t cast any spell to hide him or herself.

Very well, no spell or charm then. But an Invisibility cloak was not considered as magic, such as a ward or a spell was.

Putting the ring back into his pocket, Severus started to pace along the row of benches until he felt rather than heard, a swift movement on his right.

‘Ah, there you are!’

“Mister Keaton, quit your work for now,\" At Severus’ dark voice the sound of Keaton’s swabbing stopped.

“But, Professor, there are still some traces on the floor…”

“I’m quite sure that you have failed at completing your task but I am definitely not going to waste my whole Friday evening on you. You will clean up the rest tomorrow.”

“No…Sir, please! Tomorrow’s Saturday…Hogsmeade…”

“Yes, right. The weekend. That means that you will not have any classes tomorrow and we can start in the morning. You will serve the rest of your detention tomorrow morning 7.30 a.m.” Severus sneered as the anger flushed face of his student.

“That’s not fair…It’s the Hogsmeade weekend…”

“Do you rate your abilities so low that you don’t think you will be able to finish your task until noon? Maybe we should start a little bit earlier then to give you a chance to finish it in time? - 6.30 am, and to improve your cleaning-talent you will do the workbenches as well.”

The Gryffindor paled visibly as he heard his potions master’s dreadful promise to do everything that was in his power to ruin his Saturday. Severus watched him gather his belongings and waited for another attempt of Adrian to negotiate his detention. As the boy stayed quiet, he led him out of the classroom and went back to his desk, looking down at the book he had been reading while he had given detention to Sweeney and Keaton.

A sudden movement of air – at his left this time – told him that he wasn’t alone. Whoever had dared to invade his classroom, he or she was still there.

\"Reveal yourself!\"

Nothing happened.

“If you expect any sort of help from me after daring to spy on me for half an hour, better do as I told you.”

With the soft rustle of silk a face appeared directly in front of Severus. The black hair was tousled, spiking up in every possible direction, and some damp locks hid dark eyes, which didn’t dare to look up.

The young man standing in front of him was definitely Potter, but he was only a shadow of the young wizard Severus had known.

As Severus watched the pale face a small, dirty hand with bony fingers appeared from under the Invisibility cloak, pulling the silky cloth back over his head.

“I’m sorry.” Severus heard a husky whisper. “I…I couldn’t wait longer. Please, can you ward the door? I don’t want to be seen…please, Professor.”

Severus’ was speechless; he didn’t even know what to think. The man he had just seen was without much doubt Potter, but he had looked like he was closer to death than life.

‘Maybe the letter was telling the truth…’

After a few minutes of staring into the empty air in front of him, Severus made a decision. Though there were still the risk that Potter (or who it may be) would try to play a trick on him, but the risk would be much lower in his office, which he had carefully prepared for this encounter.

“We will go to my office. It is safer and more comfortable to talk there. You will follow me and explain yourself when we are there.” And with another death-stare to the emptiness where he supposed Potter to be standing, he sneered: “And don’t dare to play any tricks. I will not hesitate to blast your bones across my room – and no one would ever look for you because everyone does already believe you dead.”

Snape heard a whispered: “I know” from the air in front of him.

“Good. Then follow me.”


The steps were barely audible, and it was obvious that the other person was relatively certain to go unheard, but Severus knew exactly that Potter was closely behind him. As he reached the entrance to his office, he waited for the other man to catch up, and turned around, scanning the apparently empty corridor.

Although he had willed himself not to show his astonishment, Severus had been completely taken aback by the horrific sight the man had been in the classroom and by the fact that Potter was definitely alive, of course. His curiosity urged him to go faster and start the interrogation he had planned, but he never had been one to act precipitant.

He turned around and mumbled the passwords for the wards he had set on the old oak-door that led to his office.

“When we are in my office, you will immediately remove your cloak!” Severus groaned in a low voice, and opened the door to let Potter in.

One of his wards was specified to detect any sort of magic, but like the small device he had used in his classroom before, the ward remained silent as Potter passed through it.

As he saw Potter’s pale face appear right in front of his desk, Severus entered the room and closed the door behind him. His black eyes examining his former student, as he moved over to his desk.

Potter’s clothes were dirty and worn to threads, and Snape couldn’t tell if it was a robe Potter was wearing or just a muddy blanket. There were also traces of dirt on his pale cheeks and the black messy hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.

Severus reached for the leather chair behind his desk and sat down, unable to take his gaze from the man standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Professor.” Harry’s hoarse voice broke the silence, looking down at his feet, avoiding his glare.

“Seems that some things will never change, Mr Potter.“ Severus’ mouth twisted into his typical sneer. “The famous boy-who-lived refuses to die and is still the disobediently imbecile as always. Why, I wonder, have you bothered yourself writing me a letter and ask me for a date if you’ve already planned to come whenever it pleases you? I do in no way tolerate such disrespectful behaviour as sneaking into my rooms and spying on me!”

“No! I never meant to spy on you, it’s just that my situation got even worse since the letter...and I just didn’t want to be seen. That’s why I used my cloak…”

Potter was nervous, Severus could tell. Probably trying to find the right words to excuse his faux pas.

“Sit down,” Severus ordered his former student and as Potter has taken the chair in front his desk, he started with the first and most important of the numerous questions, which had flooded his thoughts since the letter had arrived. \"Now tell me, how may it be that you are here, gracing me with your presence though I have seen your precious body burst into pieces?”

“I’ve never been dead – as far as I know… I don’t know what happened to me or how it happened – it just happened.”

“Wonderful.” He took a deep breath. All the time he had asked himself the question why Potter may have survived Voldemort’s last and very deadly seeming attack, he had always feared the thought that Potter might have no answer to that question.

“Have you ever considered that whatever saved your life it may have saved the Dark Lord as well?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s none of your business.” The young man snapped, looking down at his right arm that he held safely pressed to his belly.

“Of course it is, Mr Potter!” His black eyes shot lightning of anger and if a stare could have killed, Potter would have been burned to ashes. “If the Dark Lord is still alive without anyone knowing it, even your backward brain must be able to draw the conclusion that He must not get the chance to catch us by surprise!”

“Professor, no one must know that I am alive, please!”

“If the dark Lord is still alive…”

“I DON’T KNOW, OK!” Potter’s hollow cheeks were suddenly flushed red, and Severus could see the anger and anxiety in Potter’s face. “Maybe…probably…I don’t know.”

“You better tell me the things you do know and give me a reason that stops me from informing the Headmaster.” Compared to the flood of emotions shown on Potter’s face, Severus’ remained completely stern, showing not even the tiniest bit of the confusion this situation provoked in him.

“Please, Professor, I have asked you for your help…”

“Potter, are you mad?” Severus barked at his former student, infuriated by his attempt to change the subject. “Since you are here you haven’t answered a single question. You can’t explain why you are still alive and you tell me that you don’t want to talk about anything considered with it, and you really dare to ask for my help? Who do you think I am – a good Samaritan?”

“The pain is killing me…” Something in Potter’s anguished face told Severus that that wasn’t an overstatement. The young wizard really looked as if he was suffering more than he was able to bear. “…And I’ve wished more than once that it finally would…”

Once again Severus looked over the broken figure sitting there, one bony hand clamped on his right arm, barely daring to look straight into his eyes. He wondered what might have happened that had changed the young wizard that much. The Harry Potter he once had known would have never wished for his own death or at least would have never confessed anything like that to his potions master.

Maybe Potter has mentioned it just in the hope of manipulating him. That all this was a try to talk him into helping him without further questions.

“Since you have just escaped death more than once, I would have thought that you have picked up a working healing spell.” Snape managed to look completely untouched by Potter’s confession though Harry’s face twitched at his harsh words.

“I am not able to use magic anymore. I can barely hold my wand…or anything else. My wand hand is completely useless.” The black-haired man nodded towards his right arm that he still held protectively with his unharmed left hand.

“Have you considered wandless magic?” Snape suggested, suspiciously spying on Potter’s right arm.

“Of course, I have! I’m injured not retarded.” Green eyes shot him a flaming glare. “If I would be able to use any sort of magic I hadn’t bothered you.”

That was probably the truth, Severus decided.

“So you made all the long and obviously dirty way from Merlin-knows where just to a ask me doing some wand-waving for you? May I start with a cleaning spell then? Your odour is utterly disgusting…”

“STOP IT! YOU…YOU… DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Harry suddenly rose to his feet, his face distorted with anger and…maybe pain. Snape wasn’t quite sure if his boiling rage or the wounded arm caused the tears Harry tried to blink away, but he supposed the latter.

“Well, that is definitely true, Potter. And I do not think that I will help you with any of your mysterious problems unless you enlighten me.”

Potter raised his left arm to his face, taking off his tape-fixed glasses and wiping tears away with a muddy sleeve.

For a minute Severus felt something that could be vaguely considered as pity, but he would be damned if that would force him to offer help.

“Professor…” Potter’s voice was merely a whisper. “I really need your help.”

“Yes, I think you have actually mentioned that. I wonder what sort of help you may ask me for. If you need a healing spell I am quite sure that Madame Pomfrey would…”

“Magic can’t help me…”

“I beg your pardon?” Severus wasn’t sure if he could hide his surprise at Potter’s words.

“Magic is useless. I’ve already tried a healing charm…a friend did it for me. Honestly, it seems to aggravate my wounds. That’s why I thought of potions…” Potter’s green eyes met his black ones for the first time since they had arrived at his office. “…And that is the reason why I’ve chosen to contact you.”

“I see.” Snape lowered his gaze to the arm Potter still held in front of his belly. “And you think one of my healing potions will serve your problem?”

“I don’t know. Neither the common cure-minor-wounds nor the cure-major-wounds are effective, so I really don’t know…I’m just hoping that you have an idea to help me. The pain is driving me mad…”

With horror Severus recognized new tears dwelling up in Harry’s eyes, and the most uncomfortable feeling of pity captured him for the second time.

“Well, if the usual healing potions can not alleviate the pain your wound is inflicting I seriously doubt that my potions would provide more help. Though mine are of a higher quality than common potions are, they still work with the same ingredients.”

Potter snuffled twice.

“I know that maybe your potions will be useless as well, but you know more about potions than anyone else. Maybe you know a potion that’ll help me…as a potions master you know a lot about the bodily functions and reaction, too.” Harry gulped visibly as he paused. “And moreover…well…you…”

“Spill it, Potter.” Severus guessed that he already knew what Potter was about to tell him.

“…Well, Professor, you…you are the only person I know who is well informed about any sort of Dark magic. I think if there is someone who could help me it’s you. “

Quite what he had expected Potter to say, although the young man’s words did not sound like an accusation - They were surprisingly honest.

“I suppose you assume that your injuries are caused by a dark spell, or do you ask for dark magic to fix your problems up?”

The surprise on Potter’s face showed that he hadn’t expected his second speculation, and Severus couldn’t refuse to sneer at him.

’Still the unconvincable Gryffindor brat’

“What is it, Mr Potter? You can’t be surprised that there is a great many of dark spells that actually heal – though I have to admit that the power of that spells need more than potions ingredients.” Severus sat back in his chair, his mouth turned into a self-complacent smile.

Harry cleared his throat and looked straight into his eyes.

“When I came here I actually did not know that dark magic could heal…” Potter lowered his gaze and Severus was sure that the inner battle his former student fought was frightening the poor boy. Although Harry wouldn’t admit it, he was obviously tempted to ask about dark magic, and considering that fact – that the honest and proud Gryffindor boy-hero was seriously thinking of Dark magic to get a cure for his wounds – Severus knew that Harry’s state was apparently worse than he had suspected.

“I feared you would say something like that, but to calm you, Potter, I do not think that you will ever experience a dark healing spell cast on your glorious body – “, with those words spoken in his dark and low voice Severus could see his former student pale even further, reminding him of the day when Harry had been coming for detention instead of help.
“Because I will not risk my life by casting a dark spell on school grounds for you.”

Potter’s white face flushed in a bright red as anger shook him again. \"I would have never asked you to use dark magic! I’m not a …” The angry boy stopped in mid-sentence and looked anywhere but at Snape.

“What, Mr Potter? What is it you are not? A despiteful Slytherin? A Death Eater? Beware your tongue if you really expect my help or my cooperation. Otherwise it would be an enormous pleasure for me to tell the intriguing story of the fabulous boy-who-lived-again to any reporter willing to listen.”

Considering Harry’s sharp intake of breath Severus cherished the thought that Potter might have just realised that he had given his old potions master quite an amount of blackmail-material.

“In contrast to you I am a Slytherin and I have been a Death Eater – do not make the mistake and forget that.”

“I will never be able to forget that, Professor, and I would rather be anywhere but here, but I don’t think I have a choice. That’s why I’m asking you to help me – in a legal way.”

Potter definitely tried to calm his words, to stop himself from shouting at him and for a brief moment Snape allowed him to enjoy the feeling of having Potter at his mercy, begging for his help, his advice.

But as delightful as it was, Severus was also curious about said wound Potter has hesitated to show him. During his life as a Death Eater he had seen uncountable different ways to torment and destroy a body and an equally large amount of dark devices to torture and he knew too well what they could inflict on a human body if used by a powerful magician.

“Professor, I really know that you don’t have to help me, but…”

“I know very well what I have and have not to do!” he cut him off, knowing the effect his voice still had. “Listen, Potter, if I decide to help you, I will set the terms and you better won’t slip up again.”

Severus waited for a sign of approval and as Potter gave a short nod, he continued.

“You will answer my questions and you will do as I tell you. If your wound is really inflicted by dark magic, there will be no easy way to get it out of your system, so you must follow my instructions closely. For the same reason my knowledge about your injury must be as extensive as possible.”

Another nod.

“If you need a potion such as an analgesic or sleep potion you will ask me for one of mine. I want to know what and how much you have consumed or will consume. Furthermore I will set the time and the place for other meetings, if required.”

“I agree. What about the payment? Do you want me to replace the used ingredients or to pay…”

“The payment, Mr Potter” his lips bared his teeth in a feral grin “will be the only thing one will never have enough of - information.”

“Err…what?”

“I want to know everything that happened at war’s end. I want you to tell me every little thing you know about the Dark Lord and about his followers.”

The pale man in front of him shivered slightly and his green eyes were dark and wide.

“No…please…”

“Well, Mr Potter. I do not need your money and neither do I need you bringing me new ingredients. If you want me to help you, you will tell me what I want to know.”

“I said I don’t want to…” the young man’s words were barely more than a whisper.

“You do not have to want to tell me, you just have to decide if you can pay my services. Did I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, Sir.”

“Fine.” Snape rose from his armchair. “I need a few things to examine your wound and I will have to fetch them from the store room. You may use the time to make up your mind if we have a deal or if you want to leave.”

Severus picked up the invisibility cloak and held it out to Harry, who watched him with a puzzled look on his face.

“Please, Mr Potter. Although I usually would not dare to question your gryffindorish honesty, but if you can bring yourself to ask your odious, former Death Eater, but whole-heart Slytherin potions master for help, you might do other things one would not expect from you as well. And believe me, I know the dark pain very well myself, and I also know pretty well what one would do to lessen it.”

Hesitantly Potter stood up, and Snape was relieved to see Potter’s face twist in manner showing deepest discomfort - exactly what he had expected to see. The first drops of fresh sweat gathered at Harry’s forehead, that and the slight tremor in the man’s upper arm were a certain indicator that being up on his feet wasn’t doing Harry anything good.

‘Perfect.’ Severus thought, knowing that beside fear and, of course, love, there was only one feeling, which was as ‘motivating’ as the two others: the simple feeling of pain.

“I will let you out and you will tell me when you are out of my office. I think an ‘ok’ or something equally short will do it. When I have retrieved the things I will need to examine your wound, I will open the door to let you back in. If you enter my office again, it will mean that you have accepted the terms. If you do not want to agree under said conditions you may leave once you are out of my rooms.”

Harry nodded his head once, and pulled his cloak over his head, suddenly disappearing.

With that Severus headed for the dark wooden door and opened it for Harry, waiting until he heard the young man’s “OK” from the corridor.

Then he closed the door and went to the storeroom, preparing for a hopefully more effective interrogation.