Morpheus' Charm

Morpheus' Charm

By Hellios

Chapter 4 – Two Meetings

“So Harry, what's got you all hot and bothered lately?” Ginny asked.

The five core members of the DA were seated on cushions and rugs near a small fireplace with a warm, cheery fire – courtesy of the Room of Requirement. Harry gave Ginny a genuine smile for her question, but then his expression turned serious. He looked quicfromfrom Ron to Hermione, and they both nodded their support. Then he said, “We're g to to go after Voldemort.”

There was silence for a long minute until Neville burst out, “What, you mean us, personally?”

Harry nodded. “That's exactly what I mean. But each of you have a choice, including you two,” he pointed to Ron and Hermione. “I will not force anyone to follow me.”

“Of course we're with you, Harry!” Ron said vehemently. Hermione nodded, but Ginny put up her hand.

“Wait,” she said, “you do know that this is suicide, right? The odds against us are... well I don't know, but I know the exe extremely high. We're school kids for gods sake – we don't know what we're doing. This is not our job.”

“Yeah,” Neville added quietly. “And I hate to bring this up, Harry, but the last time we all followed you...” He shrugged then looked away from Harry's dark frown.

But, Harry sighed, then said, “It's okay Neville. You have every right to point that out. I led us all into a trap and I take full responsibility for... for what happened after. But, a lot of things have changed since then. I've changed since then.”

“I'm not running off on a fool's errand, Harry. Have you spoken to any of the adults about this?” Ginny said.

“And who exactly are we supposed to talk to?” Hermione burst in, “Your mum still won't let us sit in on Order meetings – face it Ginny, they still t of of us as children.”

“Well, aren't we?” Ginny shot back, her arms folded across her chest.

“Ginny,” Neville reached over and placed a hand on her arm. “We all stopped being children a long time ago.” There was an old pain in his eyes and Ginny slowly relaxed and nodded.

“We've all lost so much,” Harry said, his tone subdued and an echo of Neville's pain showed on his face. “and we've had to grow up and take responsibility for things that nobody our age should really have to deal with. And sooner or later we've got to realize that nobody else is going to go after him. The so called 'adults' are doing nothing.”

“That's not true...” Ginny said feebly. They all knew that it was true, though.

Luna, who up until this point had looked like she was oblivious to the discussion around her, stared directly at Harry and said, “Tell them about the Prophesy.”

Every other head turned towards him and he flushed and looked away.

“Prophesy?” Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Harry coughed. “Yeah, there's a prophecy. It was made before I was born – and was the one that was held in the Department of Mysteries.”

“The one we broke!” Neville interjected.

Harry nodded, “That's right. But, that was only a copy of the original. I heard the Prophesy from the person to whom it was given.”

“Dumbledore...” Ron said, his eyes wide.

Their faces paled at the memory of their old Headmaster. “He gave it to me – he made me take it, the memory of it – that night before he... before he...” Harry shook his head, unable to complete the sentence. “But, it wasn't safe like that – kept in his Pensieve. Voldemort doesn't know the whole prophesy and now he also believes it to be lost, but I didn't want to take any chances so...” Harry gulped, then looked at Luna. “I asked Luna to carry it for me.”

The others looked at Luna, puzzled, but Hermione gasped at her, “You put the memory into your own mind?”

Luna nodded serenely. “Oh, it was very easy. Like filling a teacup.”

Hermione whirled on Harry. “Did she know? Did you know exactly what that would do?”

Before Harry could answer, Luna spoke. “I had to make room for the new memory.” She gave them an enigmatic smile. “To make room for a new memory, you need to remove an old one.”

“What memory, Luna? Which one did you lose?” Hermione demanded.

Shrugging, Luna said, “How should I know?”

“It's okay, Hermione,” Harry leaned over to squeeze his friend's shoulder. “We both knew what we were doing. Luna told me the memory she'd chosen to give up, so that I could remember for her. It wasn't a very nice one.”

“Tell us the Prophesy, Luna,” Ron said. “I think it's about time we heard it.” He threw Harry a reproachful look.

Luna gave him a nod, then stood up and with a florid bow, she began to recite in a theatrical voice:

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”

~~~

It was rapidly approaching nine-o-clock and Severus Snape sat uncomfortably at a table in the corner of the most dubious Pub in Hogsmeade. The Hogs Head had always been the prearranged spot if ever he was to liase with Malfoy in the past, so Snape took it as a bet bet that this was where Malfoy would find him now. They would then Apparate to a random location chosen by Malfoy and unknown to him for the actual meeting.

Snape was never one to enjoy waiting, and he particularly did not like waiting at the Hogs Head. He assumed it was Malfoy's obscure sense of humour that had originally led him to choose the ramshackle, disreputable establishment – it was also meant to remind Snape of his position in the scheme of things. Well, not much had changed since his days as a Death Eater except possibly the fact that his position was now even lower than the dirt on the floor of the pub.

Shivering despite the warm night, Snape dragged his robes closer to him and glanced over at the other single occupant of the pub out the corner of his eye. The barkeeper was a crotchety old man with a limp, bundled up in faded robes of every colour. He turned and caught Snape's eye, giving him a toothy grimace through his grey, matted beard.

“Ye want more?” He barked at Snape.

Snape clutched his glass of firewhiskey closer to him, from which he had not been and had no intention of drinking. “No,” he muttered.

“Eh?” The barkeeper called back, putting a greasy hand behind an ear.

“I said no, thank you very much,” he sneered. “Now leave me alone.”

The old man's blue eyes glared at him, and for an instant Snape was struck with familiarity. His eyes narrowed and he surreptitiously grasped his wand under his robes and aimed a silent 'Legelimens' at the barkeeper. For the briefest moment, Snape caught flashes of curiosity and intelligence, all underlined with a deep grief. But, it was gone so quickly and replaced by irritation and pettiness that Snape thought he might have imagined it.

The barkeeper broke his gaze with a grunt and returned to polishing glasses with the front of his dirty robe.

Snape was even more uneasy than he had been before, and resolved to keep a watch on the barkeeper in the future. He drew the hood of hobesobes up over his head and leaned back in the shadows to wait for the ninth hour.

It wasn't long before he heard the chimes of the village clock signalling that the time had ved.ved. With it, prompt as always, the door to the Hogs Head banged open and a tall man with impeccable taste in clothing stood in its shadows. Lucius Malfoy took three strides into the pub, grimacing slightly at the aroma. Malfoy looked down at the Potions Master huddled in the corner and gave him a self-deprecating smile. “Well, well, well. It seems I have just come into a small portion of money,” he said lightly, “I was so rigorously assured that you would not heed my summons that I thought I would place a small bet on the matter.”

Snape stood up uneasily and gave a small glance at the barman, who seemed to be no more interested in the new arrival than he was in the quality of grime on the bar counter. “Malfoy,” he murmured and glanced over the rich, sultry fabrics that Lucius' fine figure was draped in. “I see your short stint in Azkaban has not served to dull your sense of the flamboyant.”

Malfoy sniffed and then used his elegant walking cane to reach over and lift up the hem of Snape's black robe, which was damp with mildew. “And I see that they haven't seen fit to promote you out of the Dungeons.”

“Touché,” Snape said, avoiding Malfoy's disdainful gaze.

“Always,” Malfoy agreed. “Now, as much as I appreciate the charm of such a quaint establishment as this,” he indicated their squalid surroundings, “Perhaps we should adjourn to a more private setting?”

Snape hesitated slightly, then cursed himself silently for giving Malfoy a clue as to his genuine state of mind over this meeting.

“Now, now, Severus,” Malfoy said. “If I had wanted you dead, I wouldn't have bothered with all the pleasantries, would I?” He leaned in close so that Snape could smell the heady perfume that Malfoy used on his person. It made him want to gag. “I do believe,” Malfoy continued in an exaggerated whisper, “that I have a proposition for you which even one as dour as yourself could not dream of refusing. Trust me, dear boy.” His lips parted in a wolfish grin.

Snape felt his skin crawl. Lucius had long and often used charm and deceit to lure the unwary into his trap. He had himself been a victim once and it was a lesson he was not going to forget any time soon. But he was also intrigued. He wished to find out why the Dark Lord had not yet seen fit to have him tortured and killed and there was also some curiosity as to why oy woy would seek him out. He nodded. “Very well. Lets get on with it.”

“Of course. You shall follow my lead,” Malfoy said. He would be Apparating as Primary Anchor and Snape would be following him blindly.

Motioning with his eyes towards where the barkeeper was now half-heartedly attempting to sweep the floor, Snape murmured, “What about him. We don't want him to remember us. Shall I do the honours?” He slid his wand surreptitiously out from his sleeve.

“I wouldn't bother, he's an imbec” Ma” Malfoy said haughtily. He reached into an embroidered pouch at his waist and pulled out shiny Galleon, which he flipped with an extravagant gesture over to the old man. The coin landed in the dirt at the barkeeper's feet and sent up a cloud of dust, which forced the old man into a hacking cough. “For your time, my good man,” Malfoy called out. “Be sure not to spend it all at once.” He turned to Snape without giving the grimy old man a second thought and said, “On three – un... deux...”

With a loud crack, they winked out of existence almost simultaneously.