The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Twenty Six

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An urgent meeting of the Order was called that night, and every member was present, sitting in a circle in Professor Dumbledore's office. The topic of the urgent meeting was the unknown location of the injured Voldemort and his fallen Death Eaters. With each month that passed, the Order had become restless with their need for information becoming more desperate.

Harry was seated next to a standing Severus, and across the room sat Hermione Granger alongside a very enraged Ron Weasley whose angry blue eyes never left the dark emerald ones. The voices in the room overlapped themselves for the most part, and rose a few times in heated arguments. The redhead still stared at the unmoving, unspeaking Harry Potter.

Harry unconsciously watched the crowd distantly, hearing everything and yet hearing nothing. His eyes scanned over the familiar faces until landing on one in particular. Remus Lupin. Harry's face betrayed no emotion, however his eyes dug deep into the werewolf’s. Harry had never forgiven this man for not being there for him when he really needed him the most. He had been told that Remus was not in favour of the Life-Debt or the marriage of convenience and had refused to attend. Harry had not heard from or had seen Remus since.

As Harry stared at him, one thing became clear. He had been lied to again. The expression Remus held was that of remorse – a kind of sadness that would tear out the heartstrings of even the strongest of men. Seeing this, Harry’s eyes softened and a bittersweet smile appeared. Even from across the room, he could see the falling tears sliding down the werewolf’s cheek. Lupin was forgiven.

Suddenly it became eerily quiet, interrupted by a soft but firm female voice. Harry blinked, removing himself from the trance he was in.

“Harry?” Hermione said softly.

The focus of everyone was on him.

“Harry?” Dumbledore repeated.

“Oh. Yes?”

Albus frowned. Clearly he wasn’t listening. “Hermione tells us that you have an idea how to locate the escaped Death Eaters.”

Harry looked over at his young friend curiously. She nodded, and motioned with her hand, prompting him to speak. He turned back to Albus.

“Um. No sir. I don’t know what she’s referring to.”

A low murmur filled the room. Dumbledore glanced over at Hermione who was looking at Harry puzzled then back to Harry. He was calm, relaxed and seemingly unaware of the sudden tension in the room.

“Remember, Harry?” the young witch asked quietly. “You had a brilliant plan and we were going to discuss it with everyone.”

Harry looked at her blankly. “When was this?”

Shock covered her small features. “It was back in January. Remember?” she asked hopefully. “Before…”

She stopped but everyone knew what she was going to say next.

Before the Life-Debt.

Harry kept his solemn face, and barely shook his head. “Sorry. No.”

The murmurs rose to a low rumble. A large, gentle hand touched Harry’s shoulders, and instead of flinching like he wanted to, he merely looked up at his husband. Snape was frowning. Harry ignored him and then looked back at Hermione, and then Albus.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t recall this plan she’s referring to.” Hermione's mouth opened wide. He ignored her, as well. “But it’s obvious she does. Perhaps she can tell you.”

Harry’s voice was cold and flat, and it sent shivers down Hermione’s spine. She turned away, and stared at her shoes. Ron’s hand immediately caught hers and squeezed it. When she glanced up at her redheaded friend, it was visible that she was crying. Ron covered his other hand over their entwined fingers, and tried to smile reassuringly. It didn’t work. Hermione’s head lowered and closed her eyes. Ron snapped his head to Harry and glared.

Albus Dumbledore watched the interchange between the once-inseparable Gryffindor Trio and sighed. The agitated voices rose higher.

“Silence everyone,” he began. Instantly, the room stilled. “We will converge back here on Sunday. Hopefully by then, Miss Granger and Mr Potter will have a proposition ready. This meeting is adjourned.”

The members quickly scattered, filing out in pairs. The whispers accompanied them. The remaining members, Albus, Severus, Minerva, and Arthur Weasley were huddled together, discussing the recent events. Severus skimmed the almost vacant room.

“Harry?”


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The rest of the members passed by Harry without a word being spoken. Once on the descending staircase, the chatter resumed. Harry eyed them carefully; hands deep in his pocket and one foot crossed the other as he casually leaned against the wall. As soon as he could no longer hear them, he turned his attention to the two last members.

“Ron. Hermione,” he acknowledged.

Hermione was gripping Ron’s bicep tight, preventing him from leaping at their stoic friend. A figure leaving Dumbledore’s office stepped in between the three of them. He faced Harry.

“Congratulations, Potter,” Draco Malfoy drawled. “You play your game well.”

Harry gave a tiny gesture with his head, indicating the two standing behind Malfoy.

“Oh, I’m sure they are well aware of your contrivance,” he smirked.

Harry said nothing but his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed. Ron was just about to explode at both of them when a large, intimidating man joined them.

“Mr Malfoy,” a low dangerous voice hissed. “Your presence is not welcome here.”

The blond turned to face him, a smirk firmly in place. Harry’s expression quickly turned neutral.

“Professor,” he grinned. “We were just discussing...“Order” business.” He tried not to laugh at the pale face that was becoming red with anger.

Snape glanced between Harry and Draco. “And?” he said, coming out as a command rather than a question.

Malfoy shrugged, amused. “It appears as if Mr Potter here is incapable of speech,” he said nonchalantly. “Or thought process,” he added. “Any idea as to why?”

Severus took a menacing step forward. The blond remained undaunted. Malfoy tilted sideways to look at Harry’s two best friends, who were hidden by Snape, then back to the tall man. He snorted then turned around and walked past Harry. He stopped short at the top of the stairs before looking over his shoulder.

“I’m curious, Professor. How is it that – how many was in there?” Malfoy wondered aloud, referring to the Order members. He shrugged to himself and finished. “Not one of them had a suggestion or an idea. Not one. Why is that, do you suppose?”

Malfoy observed the four of them carefully then tsked, “It seems The Boy-Who-Lived has more responsibilities than I had thought previously.”

The blond scoffed in disgust, and disappeared around the corner. Ron, Hermione and Severus focused back at the passive-looking Harry Potter. The young wizard stared back at them with utmost sadness filling his eyes. He backed up a few feet then turned and ran down the stairs.

“Harry!” Hermione and Snape yelled together. Ron said nothing.


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Knowing he had enough distance between him, his two friends and his husband, Harry slowed and grinned wickedly.


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Severus entered their quarters and noticed his young husband curled up at the end of the sofa, watching the blazing fire. Snape timidly approached him, and sat at the opposite end. A few minutes went by. He pushed himself closer to the hurt boy. Harry made no movement.

“Harry,” he began. “You must understand. Hermione told everyone about your foolproof plan. There was no need to come up with another one.”

The young wizard continued to stare at the flames. He didn’t even flinch when Snape's hand caressed his leg.

“Harry,” he whispered. “Talk to me.” Silence. “It’s not healthy to keep everything bottled up inside.” More silence. He cupped the boy’s cheek, and guided it over so he could look into his eyes. “Harry, please. Talk to me.”

Harry's eyes were empty. Severus sighed and pulled the youth into his arms.

“Come on,” Snape breathed into his ear. “Time for bed.”

Severus spent the rest of the evening trying to reach Harry. Through his touches, words, soft kisses…even through a slow moving, gentle, loving embrace that he knew Harry liked so well. Nothing was working. Harry had gained enough power that he could finally control his body’s responses. The deadened green eyes that Snape thought were looking directing at him was actually frozen on the ceiling. For the first time, it was Severus who cried. He nuzzled his face in the crook of his husband’s neck and quietly sobbed.

Inside, Harry howled with laughter.


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Early the next morning, Harry stepped out of Hogwart’s main door. Ron and Hermione were standing at the foot of the steps talking amongst themselves. Whether through curiosity or a promise, Harry decided to join them to Hogsmeade. As he descended, the two of them looked up.

“What are you doing here?” Ron snapped.

“Ron,” Hermione whispered, tugging gently on his arm.

Harry shrugged indifferently. “Thought I’d join you.”

The redhead’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed full of disgust. “Fine! Whatever.” With that he spun around, not caring that he left Hermione in his wake.

The young witch sighed and shook her head. Harry and Hermione followed, unintentionally leaving a wide gap between them. Soon, Ron was in the lead, Harry a few feet behind and Hermione brought up the rear. They were halfway to Hogsmeade when she just couldn’t contain her anger any longer.

“Stop it! Both of you!”

Ron and Harry stopped abruptly, and turned to face her.

“Both of you are acting like a couple of children and I’ve had enough!”

“Me?” Ron spouted, pointing to himself. “I’m not the one sulking,” he hissed. “I’m not the one pretending nothing’s wrong.”

Harry snarled at him. Hermione grunted loudly, diverting Harry’s attention back to her.

“Harry,” she started, a firm tone in her voice. “I don’t approve of Ron’s behaviour, but he’s right.” Harry sneered angrily at her and Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. “Harry!” she snapped. “Stop it! Look at you! Look at what’s happening to you!”

She took a deep breath, and continued in a softer tone. “Harry. I’m afraid for you. We both are. We can sense how angry you are, and you won't talk to us. Can't you see how this is killing us?” She paused. “How it’s killing you?” she whispered.

Harry stood up tall. “No, Hermione,” he said flatly. “I’m already dead.”

“That’s it!” Ron yelled. “I’m sick and tired of your self-pitying act!”

Before Harry had a chance to react, a fist landed on his cheek, and he fell sideways on his hip.

“Ron!”

In a heartbeat, Harry was on his feet, and his wand was pointed squarely between the redhead’s eyes. Hermione covered her eyes, screamed at the top of her lungs, and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet in horror. Never in her young life had she had been this terrified. She was about to lose her two best friends.

Hermione’s screams subsided into loud, unsteady sobs, and she lowered her fingers down, tears running over her hands. Ron had stumbled backwards in shock, tripping on his own two feet, and fell down on his arse. But he was no longer afraid. He glared up at Harry, past the wand that was still pointed at his forehead.

“Tell me one thing, Mr Potter, before you kill me,” he said bitterly as he rose to his feet, and not once breaking eye contact. Harry’s wand followed his movement. “Because I think I have the right to know.”

Harry continued to glare, his arm never wavering.

“Is Snape still training you,” he growled, taking one step forward, wand now pressing into his skin. “Or is Voldemort?”

Harry’s eyes relaxed as the words sank in. His lips parted, and his arm was barely shaking. ‘My God. What am I doing?’ his mind cried out. His arm lowered completely and his body began to tremble violently. His heart thumped hard in his chest while he started breathing rapidly. He took a step back, then another, then another, and then taking one last look at his two friends, he ran as fast as he could towards the Forbidden Forest.


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