Saving your life

“Have you taken the potion yet?” she whispered to Harry for the second time. He was sitting in the library with Ginny on his lap. Ever since he’d first taken Snape’s potion they spent all day together, and as much as she loved them both, it was starting to drive her crazy.

“What?” he asked distractedly, still stroking Ginny’s hair.

“The potion,” she repeated. “I gave it to you days ago; you were supposed to take it.”

“I’ll take it tonight,” he said, and turned to kiss Ginny’s neck.

“Oh no, you won’t,” she said, taking his arm and pulling him up, almost landing Ginny on the floor. Groaning loudly, he finally followed Hermione up the stairs.

“You have no idea how hard it was to get the potion,” she whispered hastily as she dragged him to his room. “It could help us find the missing Horcruxes, what do I have to do to make you understand?”

“You think I don’t know that? I’d just like to enjoy my life a little, every once in a while,” he huffed.

“Where is it?” she asked, as they walked inside his bedroom. Instead of answering, Harry walked to his trunk, reached inside, and pulled out a small wooden box. He opened it, took the bottle, and then moved back to where she was standing.

“Good. Now sit down, clear your mind, and then focus on the Horcruxes,” she said bossily. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

It took him almost half an hour to walk back out of the room, and she noticed he looked a bit pale.

“What did you see?” she asked eagerly.

“Nothing important,” he said. With a loud sigh, she took him by the arm again and pulled him to her room.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning.

“Lock the door,” she just said, as she walked to her wardrobe. She opened the door, muttered a few words, and with a flick of her wand a small Pensieve appeared.

“Where did you get that?” Harry asked, moving to her side to get a better look.

“I bought it a few days ago in Diagon Alley,” she answered. “It was unbelievably hard to find.”

“But what do you need it for?”

“Well, I thought we could use it to go over your visions, maybe see if there’s something important you missed or forgot.”

“I don’t want to go through it again,” he frowned and she sighed, slightly exasperated.

“Just focus on the memory, flick your wand like this,” she instructed, showing him the movements with her own wand, “and then just pull the memory out. You’ve seen it done before.”

It took a few attempts, but finally they saw the memory swirling in the Pensieve.

“Ready?” she asked, placing the basin on the desk and motioning for Harry to walk closer. Looking a bit hesitant, he finally moved to her side and they both leaned forward, touching the smoky liquid and being pulled inside the Pensieve.

It was like watching a movie, only the images were moving too fast. First, she saw a crying baby, then a little boy sobbing in his bed at night, saw him alone in a park, left out by the other children. As the images changed the boy looked older, dressed in second -hand Slytherin robes. She saw him in class, being praised by teachers and reading his grades proudly. A Prefect’s badge was pinned to his robes next, and then a Head Boy’s one.

The images were moving so fast she was starting to feel dizzy, but after a few more flashes they seemed to slow down, and she found herself standing in a dark and deserted corridor, in Hogwarts. A massive figure walked past her, soon followed by the boy, and she ran after them.

As she stepped into a room, she saw the boy pointing his wand at the figure and speaking, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. The figure turned around to face him, and she gasped as she realized it was a much younger Hagrid, shock evident on his face as he moved slightly to the side, trying to hide something. Clearly noticing it, the boy shot a curse behind him, and she saw Hagrid jump and then something big and hairy hurriedly walk past her and out of the room, followed by another stream of curses.

The images started moving faster again. She saw the boy sitting in the Headmaster’s office, a calm look on his handsome face, and then standing in front of Hagrid as Ministry workers broke his wand. The next second she was blinded by light and felt a tug around her waist, pulling her back.

The room started spinning again, as it changed in front of her eyes, and when it finally stopped, she found herself in what seemed to be a Slytherin bedroom. The boy she had seen before was now sitting behind a desk, a quill in his hand and a diary in front of him. He was handsome, but the smirk on his face was terrifying.

Clearly pleased with what he had written, he took a knife from a drawer and cut along his hand. She heard him mumble then, his eyes closed as the blood fell on the diary. She could feel his power, the dark magic filling the room, as his chanting grew louder, the blood vanishing the second it touched the paper.

Finally, blue smoke covered the diary and the boy opened his eyes again, the smirk on his face growing wider as he healed the cut on his hand and stood up. “It’s time,” he said, and slowly took the small book, closed it and put it in his pocket as he walked out of the bedroom.

She closed her eyes as felt the room around her change again, and when she opened them again she was standing in front of a large house. Looking around, she noticed Harry standing a few feet away, his eyes locked on the entrance.

The boy walked past her again, and with a flick of his wand the door was blown open and he stepped inside. She hurriedly followed him, wanting to see what would happen, but regretted it the second she reached him. The few moments it took her to get inside were enough for the boy to kill two people, a man and a woman, who were lying on the floor a few feet away. There was still another man in the room, one she noticed look a lot like the boy.

“Who are you? What did you do to them?” the man asked terrified, his eyes darting from the boy to the couple on the floor.

“Don’t know your own blood? Why am I not surprised?” he mocked, and laughed aloud at the man’s expression. “Good bye, father,” the boy said calmly, before muttering, “Avada Kedavra.”

As soon as the third body hit the floor, she watched him reach inside his robes and pull the diary out. He carefully placed it on the floor, right next to his dead father, and pointed his wand at it. A buzzing sound filled the room, and she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she could see rays of black light go from his wand to the diary as the whole room began to shake.

Everything changed around her once more, and she heard a door open behind her. She turned around to find the boy, much older and looking a lot like the Voldemort she knew, sitting in an armchair, looking down at a bowing Lucius Malfoy.

“You wanted to see me, Master?”

“I did. I have something for you, Lucius,” he said, and took the small diary from his pocket.

“What is it, My Lord?”

“Have you ever heard of the Chamber of Secrets?” he asked, smirking, and then everything went black again.

“Ginny!” she heard Harry mutter. “Ginny! Don’t be dead! Please don’t be dead!”

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light, and when they did, she saw Ginny lying on the floor, and Harry kneeling next to her. They were much younger. She looked around and gasped when she saw the older Harry standing next to her, his eyes locked on the two figures on the floor.

“Harry?” she asked softly, reaching for his arm, but he wouldn’t look at her.

“Ginny, please wake up,” the younger Harry pleaded desperately, shaking her.

“She won’t wake,” a soft voice said from behind them.

“Tom – Tom Riddle?” he asked, and the boy nodded.

She felt Harry move next to her and turned to him.

“We have to go,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He took her arm firmly and she felt herself rising into the air as the stone chamber evaporated around her.

When her feet finally hit the floor, she turned to look at a very pale Harry, who refused to look at her.

“What was that?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. “You told me you had seen the diary the last time you took the potion.”

“I did.”

“Then what happened? Why was that memory in the Pensieve?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly and walked to the window.

“What did you see today?” she asked.

“The ring; Slytherin’s ring.”

“The one Dumbledore destroyed?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe we should try again,” she said softly, but he just shook his head. They stayed in silence for a few moments, and then heard loud voices coming from downstairs.

“What’s that?” Harry asked worriedly, and opened the door.

“That’s Ron!” she said, and ran down the stairs.

She stopped a few feet away, looking at the boy as he slowly walked, surrounded by Order members. After a few moments, she moved again, standing right in front of him.

“Hi,” he said, with a shy smile, and instead of answering, she threw her arms around him, hugging him for a moment before she took a step back and looked at his flushed face.

“How are you?” she asked then.

“I’m still a little dizzy, and it’s hard to walk, but the Healers said I would be alright,” he said, and shrugged.

“You know it was a stupid thing to do, right? Jumping in front of a curse like you did. You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” she said, and hugged him again. “Thank you,” she whispered, before pulling away.

“Ron,” Harry said, from the stairs. “Good to have you home. How are you feeling, mate?”

“I’ve been better,” he said with a small smile.

“Time to go get some rest now,” Molly interrupted, as he helped her son walk to the stairs. “You know what the Healer said; you have to stay in bed today,” she said, and dragged a groaning Ron up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“Harry,” Hermione said, then, turning to her friend.

“Not now, Hermione. Let’s talk about it tomorrow, alright?” he said, and left before she could answer.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, and before she knew it, it was time to take Kingsley to meet Snape.

He was worried about the meeting, not sure if he could trust a Death Eater in any way, but he trusted her, he said; that was the only reason he was there.

That night, a few hours after she left Kingsley, Snape finally contacted her, but didn’t say much. He just asked her to have the bottle he’d given her ready for a meeting the next night. She remembered the bottle, the silvery mist from the memory as it swirled around, and went to bed wondering what it could be about, and hoping it was nothing about the two of them, nothing that would give away their ‘relationship’.

Kingsley had asked the Order to meet him at headquarters the next afternoon, and was the first to arrive, walking to where she was as soon as he got there.

“You told me the Death Eater you’d been working with would meet me last night,” he hissed as he dragged her to an empty room.

“That’s what he told me,” she said, not sure just how much Snape had told him.

“Well, that shows you just how much you can trust them,” he said, but seemed to calm down. “He asked me to arrange this meeting, told me you’d know what to do. I guess you know more about it than I do.”

“I have something he wants everyone to see,” she said calmly.

“What is it?”

“A memory.”

“A memory? About what?”

“I don’t know; I haven’t seen it yet.”

“I’m guessing you already have a Pensieve we could use,” he said, and she just nodded.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Everyone should be here soon. Why don’t you take the Pensieve to the library?”

“Do your friends know about this?” he asked as she reached the door, and she shook her head no.

“Get everything ready, and let me explain things to them.”

“What will you tell them?”

“I don’t know, I’ll think of something,” he said, and smiled reassuringly.

Thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong, she slowly walked up the stairs, and into her bedroom, to retrieve everything they would need.

The room fell silent as she walked to the table, the Pensieve in her hands. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she moved to the centre of the room, and after leaving the basin on the table; she took a deep breath and turned around to face them. She wasn’t sure how much Kingsley had told them already, so she just looked at the Auror and waited for him to speak.

“I asked Hermione to lend us her Pensieve for this meeting. I have something to show you.” She was glad everyone’s attention was now on Kingsley. She had explained the Auror what Snape had given her, claiming she didn’t know what she was about, which was true.

“What is it?” someone ask from the doorway.

“I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure, we will have to wait to find out,” he said, looking back at Hermione and nodding. She reached inside her pocket and took the small bottle Snape had given her.

“A memory?” Harry asked, and she nodded.

“Who is it from?” Ron asked then, and instead of answering, she turned back to Kingsley.

“It’s from the one that’s been passing information lately,” he said, his eyes glued to hers. She could feel everyone looking at her again.

“Hermione?” Molly asked, confused.

“Why don’t we just watch this first, and ask the questions later,” Moody suggested, and everyone seemed to agree.

She carefully poured the memory into the Pensieve, afraid of what she would see, and what the Order’s reaction would be.

“Alright everyone,” Moody commanded, taking charge, “step closer.” He waited until everyone was around the Pensieve, and then muttered, “This won’t do.” He took out his wand, enlarged the basin, and then asked everyone to touch the swirling memory.

The room soon vanished around her, and as her feet touched the ground she found herself, along with the rest of the Order, in Dumbledore’s office.

“Oh, Albus,” she heard McGonagall whisper, but was interrupted by Dumbledore’s familiar voice.

“Severus,” the Headmaster said as the door creaked open, and everyone turned around to watch him, surprised. “What can I do for you, my boy?”

“I had a strange visit last night,” he said, as he walked in and sat in front of Dumbledore. “Narcissa Malfoy and her sister.”

She saw the Headmaster’s eyes narrow, but instead of asking, he just waited for Snape to continue.

“She was worried about Draco. She believes the Dark Lord ordered him to kill you to punish her family for Lucius’ failure. She asked me to make an Unbreakable Vow.”

“And what were the terms?”

“I am to watch over Draco, protect him and carry out the deed he was asked to perform, if necessary,” he answered, knowing full well what that meant.

The room fell silent; Dumbledore looked lost in thought as Snape watched him intently.

“We will stick to what we had planned for now. Look after Draco and make sure he tells you what he is planning. We will decide what to do when the time comes.”

“Very well,” Snape said as he got up.

The room swirled around them for a few seconds, and then stopped again. She watched Snape walk inside the room once more, and then Dumbledore close a small cabinet and turn to him. Now he looked much older and fragile, and she guessed this memory was much more recent, not long before he died.

“The Dark Lord is getting anxious; he’s asked Draco to meet him tonight. I’ve talked to the boy again this morning, but he still refuses to tell me what he’s planning. I can’t see it in his mind, either; Lucius must have taught him Occlumency before being sent to Azkaban.”

“Make sure Voldemort doesn’t harm him, Severus.” Snape frowned but said nothing.

The memory changed again. This time, they were in Snape’s office, and Dumbledore walked in.

“Is it ready?” he asked, wincing as he moved, and Snape quickly stood up and walked to a cauldron by the wall.

“You shouldn’t have walked all the way here, I could have taken it to your rooms,” he said, as he poured some purple liquid into a glass and handed it to the Headmaster, who drank it fast. After just a few moments, he sighed in relief and sat at the desk, in front of Snape.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to happen soon,” Snape said, and Dumbledore nodded.

“When the time comes, I want you to keep your vow,” he said solemnly.

“What? I cannot do that! It would mean I would have to kill you! Surely there must be another way.”

“I am already dying, my boy,” he said with a sad smile, and Snape, along with everyone else in the room, gasped loudly when Dumbledore lifted his right arm, pulled up the sleeve and lifted the Glamour he had been using.

She remembered Harry telling her his hand was hurt, and she had noticed it looked blackened, but it was nothing compared to what she now saw. The entire arm looked burn almost to the bone, and even though she could only see it from hand to elbow, she was sure the rest of it looked just as bad.

“What happened to you?” Snape asked, alarmed, as he got up again. “I have some potions here that could help you,” he mumbled, almost to himself as he searched the shelves, but Dumbledore stopped him.

“You can’t help me, Severus,” he said calmly as he covered his arm once more. “I had been weakened during my fight with Voldemort at the Ministry last year, and not long ago was exposed to a very dark and powerful curse,” he explained, and she noticed his burned fingers inch to touch the ring he had moved to his other hand.

“There has to be something I can do to help you,” he insisted.

“You have already helped me more than you know. The potions you brewed for me, along with some ancient spells, have kept me alive when this curse should have killed me long ago. I’m not as strong as I once was. I don’t know how much time I still have.”

Snape looked shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but before he could say anything Dumbledore stopped him.

“You are too important for the Order, we need the information only you can provide, need someone from our side among Voldemort’s inner circle.” He opened his mouth to answer, but just then, the room swirled again.

“Severus,” Dumbledore’s voice pleaded, as the room came into focus.

The Headmaster was slumped against the wall, surrounded by five Death Eaters, Snape amongst them. The Death Eaters stepped back as Snape moved closer to Dumbledore, pushing Draco to the side.

“Severus… please…” he said, but then they heard his voice again, just a faint whisper no one else seemed to hear. ‘Severus, you have to do this. We need you as a spy.’

With hatred etched in the lines of his face, he raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

‘Take care of Harry, help him defeat Voldemort,’ the soft voice spoke before a jet of green light shot from the end Snape’s wand and hit Dumbledore square in the chest.

“Albus,” McGonagall cried as everything turned black, and then they were back at headquarters, standing by the Pensieve.

Complete silence filled the room for what felt like hours, as they stood there, without moving a muscle, their minds going through everything they had seen.

“Snape?” Harry yelled at her, and everyone turned to face her, some looking sad, others confused, and a few of them angry. “I cannot believe you’ve been working with Snape all this time! How could you do it?”

“I wasn’t working with him, Harry. I didn’t even know what the memory was about.” She said, trying to calm him.

“And who have you been working with, then?” Ron asked. Everyone else remained silent, just listening to them.

“I can’t,” she whispered and bit her lip, and she could see the rage in both Harry and Ron’s faces. Just then, Kingsley thankfully interrupted.

“Can you contact Snape?” he asked.

“Not directly, but yes,” she said, feeling everyone’s eyes on her again. She hated the feeling.

“Ask him to meet us,” he said, and before he could finish, someone yelled “Here? You can’t let him in here!” and many other voices agreed.

“No, not here. Ask him to meet me at Grimmauld Place.”

“I want to go too,” Harry said.

“And me,” Ron told him, as did many other members.

“Hermione?” Kingsley finally said.

“Give me a few minutes,” she said, before walking to the door and Apparating away.