Worthy

*~ Disclaimer ~* I do not own any of the characters, language, plots, or locations from Harry Potter.
J. K. Rowling, the writer, holds all rights to Harry Potter and this story is only created for pleasure, not profit.

Summary: Death, battle, pain, facing your fears, saving the world… the Wizarding World expected the Boy-Who-Lived to endure it all. But what if he can’t? Who will be there to save the boy who only wanted to be normal? … Post-HBP

Author’s Note: This was an unexpected fic… The idea came to me late at night the other evening and I turned it over until I came up with this. Nothing much of particulars that you need to know, other than some little facts may be off, which I’ll try to correct later if they are truly horrendous, or I may get lazy, I don’t know.


Worthy

“Expelliarmus!” Snape shouted hoarsely. The attack on the Auror was blocked but Snape ducked away, making his path towards the center of the battlefield even closer. Alone for the moment, Snape paused to take in his surroundings.

Battle raged all over. Death Eaters and Aurors swarmed over the hillside, hexes and curses flying. There were also Dark Creatures around and Dementors stalked the field. He could pick out a few centaurs with a couple of tall figures nearby. Nearly the whole Order was there as well… with one significant presence missing. Snape snorted quietly. Water under the bridge now. There was nothing else for it but to move on. After two years fully ensconced in the Dark Lord’s employ, Snape hadn’t expected to still feel that empty space on the field where Dumbledore ought to be. He stiffened up and stalked closer to the hilltop, where he knew that the Dark Lord would be dramatically displaying his attacks on Potter.

His way was surprisingly clear and put Snape immediately on his guard. Either something was off or the Death Eaters were doing better than he had thought they would. Snide laughter rang through his head. ‘Or maybe you overestimated the side of the Light,’ Snape told himself. This was bad. If this was the final battle, then it was almost time to show his colors, so to speak, and he did not want to be on the losing side when his life would be equally valued on either task. He had to get closer to the main battle and see how he might tip the scale.

He crept up over a ledge, downwind of the central battle, which he could now see clearly. Lupin was nearby fighting one of the Death Eaters; Lucius Malfoy, if Snape was reading his attacks correctly. The werewolf looked worn, most likely because the full moon was only one day away. He could also spot another couple of Aurors further down the field, Kingsley and Moody, who were half-occupied with another wizard Snape didn’t recognize and half-occupied with holding back the Dementors. A couple of them had slipped through already, but didn’t go for either of the Aurors. The Dementors moved into the center of the field and stalked around the Dark Lord and Potter. The two were causing quite a spectacle by themselves.

Snape and everyone else on the battlefield had felt the crackling energy on the hilltop and had seen the light sparkling in the fading sun, but it wasn’t clear what it was until now. The Dark Lord and Potter were once again locked in a magical cage, but now it was a sickly green color and fast to the ground. Voldemort was cackling gleefully, though he looked rather ragged, Snape thought. He was shooting the occasional spell at the boy, none of which seemed to be effective. Surprisingly, this didn’t seem to bother the Dark Lord. Voldemort seemed extremely confident in his impending victory and that put Snape on edge.

Of course, the boy was another matter altogether. Potter was facing away towards the Dark Lord, so Snape couldn’t see his expression, but he looked tense. He was crouched in a ready position when he wasn’t dodging spells and all of his movements were precise and calculated. Snape was surprised to find that the boy seemed… prepared for this fight. Considering the shape he left the child in, Snape had thought that Potter would turn even more reckless in the face of this battle, but clearly the boy had done some training. In light of this, Snape couldn’t be sure whether the Dark Lord had a right to feel confident or not, but he would have to watch and wait for a while.

The fight in the cage took another turn. Potter began moving on the offensive and he turned to step around Voldemort. The Dark Lord sneered at him and held his ground, but Potter cast a spell and Voldemort dropped back with surprise. Something unexpected. Snape wondered just what spell Potter had used to force back the Dark Lord. Stranger still, Potter kept moving around the Dark Lord. He would volley spells for a while and then make his offensive move to force the Dark Lord aside. This put Voldemort in a rather nasty mood and the fury with which he struck increased with each step. Then Potter turned and Snape could see his face.

Sweat-streaked and dirty, Potter looked more like a wild creature than a wizard. His green eyes shone with the light of the cage around them and gave the appearance of some otherworldly spirit. It was a surprise to see the boy without his trademark glasses on, Snape noted. He must have spelled them for the event. One side of his face was edged with blood and his unruly hair stuck to his head in ways that indicated injury. Snape frowned. Damage to his brain could hinder his attacks and magic, giving Voldemort a strong advantage. Considering the Dark Lord had much to his advantage already, the boy was not in a good position to win this battle.

The Dark Lord was pushed back once again and Snape looked closer as Potter dodged an attack. The boys lips were moving, as though muttering to himself. He deflected another attack, but he never stopped his incantation. ‘So there is a plan,’ Snape thought to himself. ‘But what sort of magic could Potter be using?’ He looked at the careful give-and-take that the boy was playing with Voldemort. The boy didn’t appear to be trying to buy much time with his defenses, as his attacks came suddenly each time and he moved directly into place. But what…? Snape looked at the ground beneath them in suspicion.

It was hard to tell through the glow of the cage, but the fighters were slowly wearing tracks in their battle. If Snape was reading the ground correctly, the wizards were moving in a sort of squared-spiral, moving closer to each other with each move. It was a rough shape, but enough to make Snape leery of it’s purpose. As he was studying the battle, the shape began to turn clearer. Beginning with a reflection of the cage, the tracks themselves began to glow.

Snape started as he heard loud howls start to echo through the battlefield. He kept low while he glanced back down the terrain. The largest shapes were wailing and several Dark Creatures were now scattered about and running aimlessly. Even the centaurs were pacing around, though they continued to fight. The giants, Snape realized. It was the giants who were howling, as well as the Dark Creatures. Something was wrong here; even the creatures could feel it. Focusing on himself, he noticed that his magic was tingling as well. It felt as though the magic was being pulled down his body towards his feet. Quickly, Snape looked back at the main battle.

The Dark Lord and Potter were now very close to each other, but the boy now had a definite green glow to him. Voldemort, for the first time, was beginning to look panicked. He was attempting to move, either towards Potter or away from him, Snape couldn’t tell, but the Dark Lord appeared held in place. Potter was speaking normally now, no longer muttering, until he raised his voice to a shout and Snape could hear the eerie hiss of Parseltongue coming from the boy. With one final commanding hiss, Potter raised his arms and Snape could see the glint of a knife slice through the air and cut his own palm. The boy then dropped and Snape was panicked for a brief moment, thinking that Potter had failed whatever he had intended to do, but the boy thrust his hand into the ground before him and the magic exploded.

Streams of light were sucked into the cage and the entire area was covered from view. Friends and foe alike were screaming and Snape could hear a loud screeching over all of it. It sounded like a bat from Hell and he had to cover his ears to protect himself from going mad. All of it passed in a matter of moments and was followed by a silence that chilled him more than the noise.

Snape lifted himself from where he had been flattened onto the ground by the force of the spell. He scowled when he realized that he felt drained from the event and straightened up in spite of it. Looking over towards the Dark Lord and Potter, Snape saw that it was now dark, the cage gone from the hill. Cautiously, he pulled out his wand and moved as quickly as he dared over to the location. The air itself felt electric, as from the passing of an enormous thunderstorm and the hairs on his arms stood on end. First, Snape saw a heap of familiar robes and hurried over, in case the Dark Lord had succeeded. When the material didn’t move, Snape muttered a Status spell and was faintly relieved to see his magic still worked and it indicated that the bundle was dead. Never one to take chances, Snape kept an eye on the robes as he scanned for Potter.

Snape was alerted by a sudden movement. Potter was lying nearby, with his hand still in the ground and convulsing in a rather alarming way. Quickly, Snape ran to the boy’s side and tried to pull him out of the ground. The arm was being stubborn, especially as it twitched under his grasp, but he managed to release the boy and lay him on his back. The tremors were subsiding, but Snape held the boy down by the arms just in case.

“Potter,” Snape bit out. “Potter, can you hear me?” The Boy-Who-Lived groaned and shook a little more before peeking out from under his lashes. Snape was mildly disturbed to see that his eyes were still glowing.

“P-Professor,” Potter croaked out. “Go.”

Snape growled, “I can’t go anywhere you stupid boy…”

“D-don’ …. und-erstan’…. H-he’s here,” Potter interrupted, always the Gryffindor. Snape scowled at the boy.

“The Dark Lord is over there, Potter. You-.”

“No… no!” Potter strained under Snape’s grasp. “He’s h-here! ….Here!” The convulsions were beginning again and it was harder to hold onto the boy. Snape had to struggle to keep him under control and he began to blather. “V-Vold… -emort. …’s here! ….In… in me! H-he’s in me!” Potter screamed out and his back arched. Snape had no choice but to release an arm and reach into his robes for a potion, but as he did, Potter struck out and hit him.

Snape cursed and held the arm down again. Potter continued to shake but he turned his head to look directly at his professor. His eyes still glowed but now they had a tint of red around the irises. “Professor,” he gasped out. “Please, go.”

“Not on your life, Potter,” Snape gritted out. He shoved the boy’s arms down and spun the boy around. Snape wrapped his arms around the shaking body to hold it in place and he was able to reach around the boy to get the Calming Draught he needed. Uncorking it with his teeth, Snape forced the potion down the boy’s throat, covering Potter’s nose and mouth to keep him swallowing. For a moment, Snape believed that it was working, until the boy’s head tilted back and red eyes met his gaze.

“Ssseverus,” A familiar hiss came out of the boy’s mouth and Snape’s blood ran cold. It took a moment to realize that the Dark Lord’s voice wasn’t the only thing that chilled him. A creeping ice was moving through him and, too late, Snape realized that the Dementors had arrived.

In a haze, Snape tucked the boy’s body to his side and tried to scramble to his feet. He could hear assorted voices calling out “Expecto patronum!” and he raised his own wand. The ice had reached his heart and Snape could not recall a happy memory at all. Visions of pain, of screams, Crucio began to assault him even as he gasped out, “Expecto patronum!”

Nothing happened and the Dementor rose in front of him out of the dark night. Snape sunk to his knees as memories of torture and the Dark Lord began to overwhelm him. Potter’s body slipped from his grasp and he tried to hold on, but wound up clutching the ground in front of him. The memories dimmed momentarily, though Snape still heard the screams…

It was Potter. He was screaming with everything he had left and Snape lifted his head to see a clawed hand reach for the boy in front of him. ‘No,’ Snape tried to say, but could only watch as Potter was lifted close to the Dementor’s hood. Potter’s scream twisted into a screech as he was pulled up into the mouth of the Dementor. He sounded inhuman, and Snape thought that he could almost hear the Dark Lord hissing as the boy’s body received the Kiss.

“Expecto patronum!” A silver streak swept close and the Dementor dropped the boy’s body to the ground as the Patronus chased it away. The visions of pain were gone and Snape crept over to the body of the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Harry!” A desperate voice called out and Snape turned to see Lupin rush over. The werewolf stopped just short of the still body on the ground and trembled. Snape turned the boy onto his back, feeling how limp he was now. Lupin backed up a few paces, eyes wild. “Harry,” he keened. Snape almost flinched when Lupin threw back his head and let out an inhuman howl of loss. The werewolf was close to the surface as Lupin cried out his misery to the night.

Snape turned to the boy and moved a hand to try to open his eyes to look into them. He stopped just short when the boy’s head twitched the tiniest fraction. Hardly imagining it, Snape instead shook the boy’s shoulder. “Potter,” he spoke quietly. “Can you hear me, Potter?”

The boy’s eyelids fluttered and opened to reveal dull looking eyes. Something in Snape weighed down at the look in those eyes and his tone took a professional clip. “Can you understand me, Potter?”

It was in those moments that Snape believed that they had lost the Wizarding World’s Savior, but then the boy spoke.

“He was inside me,” he whispered, eyes still dead. Silent, Snape could think of nothing to say to this. Another moment passed and Potter whispered, “He woke up inside of me and now he’s gone.”

“He’s gone?” Snape intoned.

“Yes,” Potter murmured. His eyes shifted directly into Snape’s onyx gaze. “He was there the whole time. Voldemort was inside me and I didn’t know it.”

“What do you mean, Potter?” Snape tried to keep his frustration out of his voice but he sounded strained.

“He was in me… in me…” Potter’s look was turning wild and Snape cautiously pulled him upright again, hoping to stave off another bout of convulsions. Potter’s eyes snapped and the dull gaze was gone, replaced with the most distressed emotion that Snape had had the pleasure of ever seeing. Crying out, Potter threw himself into Snape’s surprised hold and babbled in between heaving sobs. Shocked, Snape held the boy as the bustle and noise of Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix began to rise around them, all the while wondering how this had happened.

*****