All Kinds of Directions

“Rennervate.” Harry watched Snape’s eyes flutter open, and when they rested on him he steeled himself for the inevitable insult.

Surprisingly, the insult didn’t come. “Potter,” Snape acknowledged, seeming resigned but not overly hostile. That was mildly encouraging.

“Snape,” Harry said, acknowledging him back. “I—we—have a problem.”

“Many, I would imagine,” Snape said in a bored tone. “Not the least of which is myself, I’m certain.”

“After having you down here for almost three months, you’re not a problem so much as an annoyance,” Harry shot back. “You’re a constant worry and a drain on our resources, and so far you’ve barely helped at all.” He forced himself to stop; arguing with Snape wasn’t what he had in mind. “Draco Malfoy is the problem I’m concerned with now.”

“If you are hoping to somehow rescue Mr. Malfoy from the clutches of the Dark Lord, then you are delusional,” Snape sneered. “He will not be—”

“We have him already,” Harry interrupted smugly. “He’s locked in a room upstairs.”

The look on Snape’s face was priceless. Harry didn’t think he’d have been more shocked if Harry had told him that Voldemort had been tutoring Muggle-born squibs. “I find that difficult to believe,” Snape said finally.

Harry had expected that. He stuck his hand in a pocket and pulled out a wand. “Recognize this?” he asked.

Snape peered at it, and if anything he appeared even more gobsmacked. “Draco’s wand,” he said softly.

“That’s right,” Harry said, replacing the wand in his pocket. “We kidnapped him from a Death Eater hideout—we caught seven other Death Eaters and destroyed three Dementors as well. At the moment Voldemort thinks the Order of the Phoenix is responsible.”

“You fool,” Snape breathed. “The Dark Lord will murder Draco’s mother. He will never forgive you that.”

“We grabbed Narcissa Malfoy too, and turned her over to the Order for her safety,” Harry said, and smirked nastily at Snape’s expression. “Didn’t think we were clever enough to pull that off, did you?”

Snape inclined his head. “Underestimating an opponent is a sure way to defeat. I should have remembered.”

Harry fought to keep from gaping in surprise; that was the closest thing to a compliment Snape had ever given him. “Yeah, well…that’s not exactly a problem for me,” he said. “I’m not about to underestimate Voldemort.”

“But you are,” Snape replied, and there was no condescension in his statement; only fact. “You cannot possibly know what the Dark Lord is capable of. No matter how you may plan, you cannot anticipate what he will do.”

“Well, the more information I have, the more accurate my guesses are,” Harry responded, feeling decidedly odd. He’d never had a conversation with Snape as civil as this one. “That was one of the main reasons for capturing Draco; he’ll have knowledge we can use.”

Snape peered searchingly at Harry. “And yet you are here, disturbing me,” he said finally.

“Yeah…well, it turns out our main way to try and get Draco to tell us what he knows didn’t work,” Harry admitted.

“Mr. Malfoy did not return Ms. Parkinson’s affections,” Snape said, and looked arrogantly superior when Harry’s eyes widened. “I know Draco Malfoy far better than you, Potter. He undoubtedly reacted without thinking and assumed the worst about Ms. Parkinson’s allegiance with you.”

“Yeah, he did,” Harry admitted with a grimace. “He said some things…I’m not sure what he really believes and what he just said to be cruel.”

“I fail to see how this is a problem for you.”

“He’s not exactly the type to have a nice chat with me and spill his guts, is he?” Harry retorted.

Snape gave him a look like he was being even more stupid than usual. “Veritaserum, Potter. You can’t be so thick as to have forgotten. Draco has no immunity.”

“Oh…right,” Harry said, embarrassed. “Yeah, of course we thought of that. But… Well, we were hoping we wouldn’t have to use it on him.”

“You had no compunction against attempting to use it on me.”

“Yeah, and we—” Harry cut himself off. Saying We already knew you’re a murdering arsehole wasn’t going to accomplish much. “We didn’t have any reason to think you’d help us willingly,” he amended.

“You have not provided me with a great deal of incentive to aid you,” Snape pointed out ironically.

“We weren’t feeling very generous right after you broke in and tried to kill us!” Harry snapped. “Or did you forget about what happened to Ron?”

“This is pointless,” Snape said shortly. “It is more expedient to simply state that neither of us would have trusted the other.”

“I—yeah, fair enough,” Harry said, a bit unbalanced by the sudden conciliation.

“By inference I believe you suggested that you have reason to think Draco may help you willingly,” Snape said casually. “You are foolish to think so.”

“I do know a bit more about what Draco’s been thinking—”

“No, you do not,” Snape retorted scathingly. “The Dark Lord wasted no time in searching Draco’s thoughts once we fled Hogwarts. All of Draco’s fears, doubts and misgivings were laid bare for all of the Death Eaters to see. Draco was not committed to the Dark Lord…and yet I still say, you will get no willing aid from him. Some hatreds run so deep they can overwhelm even the sense of self-preservation.”

Harry pushed his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his eyes; he really hated the way Snape talked. “There must be some way to get him to talk willingly…”

When Harry removed his hands he saw Snape giving him that condescending you’re an imbecile look again. “Do you honestly expect me to give you the key to Draco’s knowledge, Potter?” he asked bitingly. “In three months of confinement I’ve given you but a shred of what I know; why would I show you the path to similar knowledge?”

“Because I could make your life hell if you don’t!”

“I have lived three months in hell, Potter. A while more will make little difference.”

Harry ground his teeth. “I am so close to casting the Tongue-Binding Hex on you and then breaking your nose a few more times,” he growled.

“And your previous attempt at torturing me was immensely successful,” Snape sneered.

“You caved in a heartbeat!”

“Believe what you wish,” Snape responded blithely. “I shall give up no further memories.”

Harry almost did it anyway, just for the satisfaction of breaking the enormous beak on Snape’s face. But after wrestling with himself for a long moment, he grudgingly decided that he couldn’t face the others if he did. So instead he removed his wand and pointed it at Snap to Stun him again.

“Wait a moment, Potter!”

Harry hesitated. “What now?” he asked angrily.

Snape seemed to be weighing his words carefully. “It is safe to say,” he began, “that we have reached an impasse; from this moment on, in our current…situation, neither of us can benefit from the other.”

Harry thought that seemed like something it was unnecessary to state. He shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So perhaps it is time for to alter the situation and compromise.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Snape said in a voice heavy with impatience, “that I do not wish to live out my remaining days locked in a basement, reliant on the good graces of you and your band of Merry Men. It may be that I am willing to relinquish an amount of information in exchange for certain… concessions.”

Harry frowned and lowered his wand. “What concessions? We don’t have anything to offer you except freedom, and that isn’t happening.”

“I had determined that, yes,” Snape retorted. “A bit of mobility, however, would not be amiss, in order to prevent my muscles from atrophying. And the chance to practice brewing again, so my skills do not diminish—”

“No bloody way,” Harry interrupted flatly. “You’re not getting your hands on any potions!”

“There are harmless ingredients that cannot be melded into anything dangerous,” Snape said slowly, as if lecturing to a particularly stupid class. “I simply wish to…keep my hand in.”

Harry gave a humorless laugh. “How thick do you think I am? You’re a Potions Master. You may have been a bloody horrible teacher but you know your potions. There’s no way we could know what you’re capable of, and I’m not about to underestimate an enemy in my own house!”

Harry raised his wand again. “Very well,” Snape said with a slight nod. “Consider, then, that there are… other ways of ensuring my adherence to your safety.”

Harry stared for a long moment. Was Snape suggesting what Harry thought he was? “I’ll consider it,” he said eventually. “Stupefy.”

*****

“So it was pointless, like you thought,” Ron declared once Harry had finished describing his talk with Snape. “Except for a laugh, if Snape honestly thinks you’d let him free.”

“He wasn’t suggesting that,” Hermione said darkly. “At least, not when he mentioned ‘other ways’ of guaranteeing our safety. He meant a geas, didn’t he? Like I cast on Pansy.”

“Or an Unbreakable Vow,” Ginny added. “Either could be worded so he was unable to do anything to cause any of us harm. I like the geas better—we don’t have to give him the option of saying no to any questions. Hell, Hermione could cast the geas while he was Stunned!”

“Wait a second!” Ron exclaimed. “Those things are notorious for being easy to get around!”

“If they’re poorly worded they are open to interpretation, yes,” Hermione agreed. “And if anyone could find a way around something like that, it would be Snape.”

“I suppose if we all worked on the wording we could make sure there were no loopholes to exploit,” Ginny said thoughtfully.

Harry stared at Ginny in shock. “You’re not actually thinking we should do it, are you?”

“If we were careful about it,” Ginny said hesitantly, “it might be a good idea. Snape has so much information—”

“No,” Ron said flatly, “not a good idea! There’s no way we could be sure, and Snape’s way too dangerous to risk it with!”

“Well, you come up with a better way to get information, then!” Ginny demanded.

“I’ve already got one!” Ron snapped back. “Shove some Veritaserum down Malfoy’s throat!”

“That’s enough!” Harry shouted. “Hermione’s trying to talk and she can’t over your arguing!”

Ron and Ginny both sat back, looking mortified. “Sorry,” Ron said faintly.

“Me too,” Ginny said.

“Discussing things is fine,” Hermione admonished with faint amusement, “but arguing won’t solve anything. Snape isn’t going anywhere, so I believe we have some time to consider. We can try to come up with wording for a geas that would be safe to use, and if we can’t then there’s no harm done. Besides, I think we would have a riot on our hands if we freed Snape for no apparent reason.”

The others all chuckled slightly, but they saw the truth in Hermione’s statement. “That’s a good idea,” Harry said. “I agree that we should try to find some decent wording for a geas. How about we each separately come up with what sounds right. Then we’ll take parts of each and see if we can make something we’d feel safe with.” Ron snorted. “Yeah, I know. Ginny, I doubt we’ll ever really try it. I just don’t think I’ll ever feel safe letting Snape go free.”

Ginny shrugged. “I never said I thought we should, you know…just that it was worth considering.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But only if every other source dries up completely.”

“We’re not too far from that becoming a reality, unfortunately,” Hermione reminded them nervously. “Harry, I think you should go and try to talk to Draco.”

“What?” Harry said, shocked. Ron and Ginny looked surprised as well. “Hermione, of all of us I’m the one he’s least likely to talk to!”

“Actually, you’re not,” Hermione denied. “He hates me almost as much as he does you—that combined with the act that I’m Muggleborn… Well, I think I have you beat in that.”

“Well, what about Ron?” Harry suggested.

“Wait a minute—” Ron began.

“Ron is a pureblooded wizard fighting against Voldemort,” Hermione pointed out. “That makes him a blood traitor in Draco’s eyes. Besides, Harry, there’s another reason it should really be you: you’re the leader of the D.A. Not only do you know everything that the D.A. knows—I’m certain there’s some things even Ginny, Ron and I don’t know—but you can speak for all of us, and make decisions. We’ve all given you that authority. And Draco has been raised to respect those in positions of power.”

“No he hasn’t!” Harry protested. “He thinks everyone who works in the Ministry is a joke!”

“I meant real power,” Hermione explained. “The power to rule. The Minister of Magic is chosen by the wizarding community, and he can be dethroned, as it were—”

“So can I—”

“No, Harry,” Hermione said softly. “You lead us because you’ve earned it—because those around you have recognized and acknowledged that it’s where you belong. No matter what you may choose or where you might go, you’ll always be that for us.”

“Kind of like how the Death Eaters see Voldemort, isn’t it?” Harry grumbled. “It’s the same sort of power.”

“Nah, not really,” Ron countered. “Okay, I bet Malfoy sees it that way, but it’s not the same. The Death Eaters only see Voldemort as the leader of their side because he could fry them all. But you’re a leader because even though you’ve lost so much, you still just want everyone to be happy and not fight.”

“That’s a bit simplistic, but I think Ron got the gist of it,” Hermione agreed with a wry smile. “It’s a combination of things, Harry—the sort of person you are despite everything you’ve been through. Your willingness to accept the hand you’ve been dealt, as terrible as it is. And your capacity to love—especially your capacity to love; it shows us that you truly understand what we all have at stake.”

Harry ducked his head, blushing furiously. “I don’t really…see myself that way,” he protested.

“Yes, I know,” Hermione replied with a chuckle. “That’s another part of it.”

“And you think Mal—er, Draco sees all that?”

“All of it? Not at all,” Hermione said. “I think that he can see the results, though; he sees how we treat you and recognizes the respect, deference and trust we give you, and that’s what really matters to him.”

“Yeah,” Ron added, nodding. “Power. Well, your kind of power. But different than Voldemort, see?”

Harry nodded distractedly. “That sounds kind of like the way people saw Dumbledore,” he said reluctantly.

“Yes, it does,” Hermione agreed. “I know you don’t like it when people call you the next Dumbledore, Harry, but there are worse things than to receive the same kind of respect he did.”

Harry swallowed uncomfortably and turned to Ginny, who’d been silent for a long while. “You, er… you agree with them?” he asked.

Ginny stared intensely at Harry for a minute, and then nodded. “What Hermione and Ron said is all true,” she said quietly. “But it’s not quite complete. Draco sees respect and deference as power, but we don’t. I follow your lead because I respect and trust you as well as love you—not because those things give you a kind of power.”

“They feed off each other,” Ron said. “You have trust and respect, which gives you power…which gets you more trust and respect, which becomes more power. That’s how you’re leading such a big group now; you came to the wizarding world alone, and then you had a couple friends—” he bowed ironically, and Hermione smirked— “Then you led the first D.A., and now this one, which would be huge if we hadn’t decided it would be too dangerous to bring some people in, like the Creeveys and Anthony Goldstein and Oliver Wood and most of the Order. They’d all be following you too.”

“So you’re saying if I keep on, eventually I could rule the world, huh?” Harry joked weakly.

“Who knows?” Hermione answered wryly. “Defeat Voldemort, and when the wizarding world finds out they might insist on it.”