Chapter 9 : Chapter Nine: Dead Men Should Stay Dead
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I should let you know that I rewrote chapters 1-5, mostly chapter 2, 4 and 5. I would suggest rereading those, since they may come into play later on, I didn’t think I made some things clear in those.
Chapter Nine: Dead Men Should Stay Dead
The pit of his stomach dropped as McGonagall and Tonks turned to look at who had just come down the stairs, and he felt sick when the person looked at them and smiled, in a way that Harry always associated with them. But if they were here, it would mean that there would have to be a lot of explaining, for Harry couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“Harry,” said Ron weakly.
“It’s not possible,” said Hermione.
Harry couldn’t explain what was going on inside his mind, but everything seemed wrong. “Could you please explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“Allow me to explain,” said McGonagall quickly, not wanting to create anymore of an issue of the matter than there had to be. She knew that Harry had never been on friendly terms with the person sitting in the chair across from her. She could sense that Harry wanted to kill him for what he had done. “Harry would you please sit down.”
“He’s a fucking deatheater, I’m not going to sit down with him and pretend that it never happened,” spat Harry.
“Potter,” said McGonagall. “I will not tolerate that kind of language.”
“Where’s Remus?” asked Tonks.
“In his room,” said Hermione, eyeing the person sitting at the table.
“Why is he here?” asked Ron.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “He’s got a lot of explaining to do. Especially if he can be here. And you,” he looked up at McGonagall and Tonks. “Why, how can you let him here? You know he’s a deatheater, and you are just letting him stay here, like, like he’s an Order member. He has the dark mark on his arm, I bet-”
“Potter,” said Draco Malfoy, tartly, rolling up his left sleeve. “I don’t have one.” He strode over to Harry, who recoiled. Waving his forearm in Harry’s face, he shouted, “Look, no dark mark. Amazing, you wouldn’t have thought it, but yes Potter, I am not a deatheater.”
“But,” sputtered Harry, not knowing what to say. “You went away with Snape.”
“He made me,” spat Malfoy. “I hate him so much.”
“Why’s that?” asked Harry. “He finished up your job.”
“Exactly,” said Malfoy.
“You see,” said Harry, looking at Tonks and McGonagall. “He even talks like a deatheater.”
“I’m not a fucking deatheater. Snape is a fucking glory hog, he wants all of the attention,” said Malfoy. “He and Dark Lord really are close, you know, I think he wanted the job all a long, a just did it when he thought I couldn’t. I would have-”
“But what,” taunted Harry. “You had a change of heart, or no wait, you thought killing was bad. You chickened out Malfoy, I bloody saw you. You couldn’t harm a fly.”
Malfoy’s hands balled into fists. “Look,” he growled. “I didn’t want the mission. The Dark Lord said that if I did it I would be able to join his forces. My mum didn’t like the idea, so she went crying to her old boyfriend or something that she was worried about me. Snape agreed to do the unbreakable vow so he would have to finish it if I didn’t. He agreed to it, he wanted it for himself. Stupid ass. I hate him. I bet he’s sleeping with my mum this very minute.”
“You think your mum is sleeping with Snape,” laughed Ron. “Sorry, but I doubt that.”
Malfoy scowled at Ron. “Look, she likes him. When he was at my house I caught her trying to seduce him. I hate it that he is constantly trying to steal her away from my dad.”
“Snape was at your house,” said Harry eagerly. “Is he still there now?”
“No,” said Malfoy. “He went somewhere else. I already had this talk with the Order.”
“The paper said that you were dead,” said Ron. “So why aren’t you?”
“Obviously, Ron,” said Hermione. “It’s not to hard to give false information to the press.”
“I did what Dumbledore told me to do,” said Malfoy. “I went to the Order.”
“We told the press that Draco Malfoy had been found dead,” said McGonagall. “They didn’t need a body, they just printed the article. The whole wizarding world thinks that he is dead, which makes it a whole lot easier for us to hide him. No one is looking for a dead wizard. Draco is free to stay with the Order, or we could relocate him and his family if they wish.”
“I want to stay here,” said Malfoy. “I want to fight.”
“Why are you trusting him?” shouted Harry. “He’s going to jump over to Voldemort once he has enough information. Can’t you see that?”
“Look,” Malfoy said. He lifted up his shirt, at first Harry didn’t look, but then he gaped. Long gashes and scars crisscrossed against his stomach, and from what Harry could tell, carried over to his back. “Some of those are from your Sectumsempra curse, others are from the events of a couple nights ago, when I failed to kill someone. And it wasn’t just Dumbledore who I failed to kill.”
“Who?” asked Ron.
“My mum,” said Malfoy crossly. “And a couple of muggles. Look, I don’t want to go around killing random people.”
“Well if your a deatheater, then isn’t that what you do?” said Harry.
Scowling at Harry, Malfoy continued. “I’m not the kind of person who wants to do that. I remembered what Dumbledore had said and sought out my cousin, Tonks. She brought me here.”
“So if he betrays us,” said Harry, glaring at Tonks, “I can blame you.”
Tonks shrugged. “I’m convinced.”
“From that lame argument?” laughed Harry. “Look it’s a load of-”
“Potter,” said McGonagall. “He hasn’t told you everything, and I expect he never will if you act like that. He told us everything he has to tell, and we are convinced.”
“You are doing what Dumbledore did with Snape,” snapped Harry. “Do you want him turning against you. Are you really that determined to get yourself killed?”
McGonagall looked sternly at Harry. “Potter, this distrust isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“Harry,” said Hermione. “I don’t think that Malfoy is a killer.”
“How can you take his side,” shouted Harry. He turned to Hermione. “I don’t get you.”
“He isn’t a killer, Harry,” said Hermione. “He may be a jerk, and an absolute prat, but he isn’t a killer.”
“How can you think that?” asked Harry.
“Why didn’t he kill Dumbledore if he had a chance?” asked Hermione.
Harry stood there, looking at Hermione, feeling dumbstruck. “Well,” he began. “He was too chicken. Maybe he won’t chicken out this time.”
“I have to side with Harry on this one,” said Ron. “I can’t believe you are letting that fowl prat into Grimmald Place.”
“Grow up, you two,” snapped Hermione.
Malfoy smiled at her. “You see, even the mud- I mean Granger, trusts me, why can’t you two?”
“Thank you for the correction,” said Hermione.
“Thank you for telling Potter and Weaslebee off,” said Malfoy.
“There is too much evidence against you,” said Harry.
“Draco will not tell you all of the evidence if you act like that,” said Tonks.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Harry.
“It means, Potter, that I would rather not tell someone my own personal business when they are accusing me of being a deatheater. Do you honestly think that I would spill my darkest secrets to someone who has been a jerk to me ever since I entered school?” said Malfoy.
“Been a jerk to you?” laughed Harry. “You’ve been a jerk to me Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret.”
Malfoy smiled. “Well, Pothead, I guess there is way too much history between the two of us for any agreement to be reached.” He patted Hermione’s back. “Granger and me though will be having some fun talking about just how wrong you are.”
“Granger and I,” corrected Hermione.
“What?” said Malfoy. “Are you crazy as well as a mudblood?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “There is way too much history between us, Malfoy, for that to ever happen.”
“I’m trying, Granger,” he said, frowning, sounding almost sincere. “Some times when something has been drilled into your head ever since you were born, you can’t just drop all your presidencies in one day. I’ve been trying since, well, nearly a year, but I’ve found it really hard. Now that I have no bonds or obligations to the Dark Lord, I plan to loose the habit. But from what I can tell it is going to be sure damn hard.”
“He’s stringing words together,” said Ron, looking daggers at Malfoy. “Are you believing this shit.”
“Well,” said Hermione. “He’s definitely changed.”
“And do you trust him?” asked Ron.
“I think we should give him a chance,” said Hermione.
Ron rolled his eyes, and looked at Harry. “I can’t believe this load of bull they’re throwing at us.”
“Neither can I.”
“Guess what, Potter,” said Malfoy after they had left the kitchen.
“What, Malfoy?” asked Harry, not feeling like playing guessing games with a deatheater.
“My room is next to yours.”
Harry stopped walking, but Malfoy, Hermione and Ron kept on walking. So now they are going to let the deatheater sleep next-door to me. All right, this is really great. They are supposed to protect me and they are setting it up so that in the dead of night, all he has to do is slip into the room and pull out a wand. Really protecting me, aren’t they?
“What,” said Malfoy looking over his shoulder at Harry. “Did you think that they would make me sleep in the basement?”
“No, they wouldn’t even risk that,” said Harry. “If they had any sense they would put you, the little deatheater, in to sleep with Kreacher. You guys would get along really well. You can both betray the Order. Go a head, make up your plans together. I’ll be the one who’ll say ‘I told you so,’ when the Order falls.”
“Harry,” said Malfoy.
“I didn’t give you permission to use my Christian name, Draco,” sneered Harry.
“I don’t care what name of mine you use,” said Malfoy.
Harry attempted to raise an eyebrow, but found that it proved more difficult than it looked.
“In fact,” continued Malfoy, “Knock yourself out. I don’t give a shit what you call me, so long as you understand, I’m not a deatheater. I never was. Look,” he rolled up his sleeve, “I don’t have a Dark Mark, and I’m not using any spells to hide it, McGonagall already checked. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m on your side, what good would that do.”
“Dumbledore thought Snape was on his side,” shouted Harry. “And look what happened to him. Snape blasted him off the Astronomy tower. Snape turned out to really be a deatheater. Whatever story Snape told Dumbledore must have been just like the story that you told McGonagall. Well, I’m not like them, I’m not going to believe something just because you tell it to me. I’m not going to let something like that happen ever again.”
“A very noble sentiment,” said Malfoy, doing a mock Snape voice. “but,” reverted back to his own voice, “I’ve really turned over a new leaf here, Harry.”
“Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots,” said Ron. “Snape didn’t change, Harry and I always knew it, and then it turned out he was on their side all along. Hermione trusted him, so since she trusts you, I don’t think we’ll trust you on this one.”
“So my opinion counts as absolutely nothing,” said Hermione.
“Not really,” said Ron.
“Ron,” said Hermione. “You’re such a prat.”
“Look,” said Malfoy. “I know that it is my fault that Dumbledore is dead. If I hadn’t told my mum about what I had to do, she wouldn’t have gotten scared and go to her boyfriend about it. I could have just not told her and not done it. I know Snape made the unbreakable vow to my mum, and once he did that, Dumbledore was doomed to die. Snape never breaks a promise, and he isn’t going to sacrifice his life for anything, nothing means that much to him, but he would rather live than be killed, from what I can tell. I chickened, and Snape was there, seeing that I could never, and would never be able to kill Dumbledore, or anyone for that matter, as he explained to the Dark Lord. I’m a coward.” He hung his head. “And by those acts, I guaranteed Dumbledore’s death. I’m sorry, and I know you’ll never forgive me, but I’m sorry, and I just wanted to get this burden off of my shoulders. I’m sorry.”
There was a stunned silence.
“You think it is your fault Dumbledore is dead,” said Hermione, eyes welling up with tears. “It’s my fault, I could have stopped Snape-”
“Don’t start on it Hermione,” said Ron, harshly.
“Ronald,” she said turning to Ron. “I can’t believe what you are doing. You insensitive brat.” She raised her hand and slapped his face.
Everyone gaped at Hermione, not knowing what to say. Ron rubbed his face, looking at Hermione who was standing in front of him, her hands on her hips.
“Look, I-” he stammered.
“Why do you always act like a jerk?” she shouted.
Hermione burst into tears and ran up the stairs. By what Harry could tell from the sound, she had slammed the door to her and Ginny’s room.
“Now look what you’ve done,” said Harry, looking at Ron.
“What? She’s the one who did everything, she wouldn’t even let me talk.”
“You really don’t get girls do you,” said Malfoy.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” began Malfoy. “Isn’t it obvious, I mean, even when we were in school, pretty much everyone could tell.”
“Tell what?” asked Ron.
“You’re really dense, Weasley,” said Malfoy. “Maybe Granger should choose better next time.”
Ron gaped, and kept on staring at Malfoy as they walked up the stairs to their rooms. Ron looked down the hall at Hermione’s bedroom, but stepped into his own, after Malfoy disappeared into his.
“Aren’t you coming?” asked Ron, when Harry started walking down the hall.
“there is something I need to do first,” he said. walking down the hall, Harry could feel a sort of combination of anger and grief over the days events.
Stopping at Lupin’s door, Harry knew he should knock, but realise that there wasn’t any need, the door was wide open. He could see Lupin sitting on his bed, alone, with a picture in his hands.
“Um, Remus,” said Harry.
Lupin looked at Harry. “Yes,” he said weakly.
“May I come in?” he asked.
Lupin nodded. Harry walked into the room, observing everything. Lupin had nothing out besides a suitcase, and Harry realised with a pang, Lupin had no other belongings. Standing near Lupin, Harry looked at the picture in Lupin’s hands.
It was a picture of the Marauders, and Lily, from what Harry could tell they were at least seventeen, eighteen maybe. They were sitting near the lake at Hogwarts, Lupin was reading, while Wormtail leaned over Lupin’s shoulder looking at the book in Lupin’s hands. Sirius had been talking animatedly to James, who was hugging a laughing Lily. Printed in black and white, it looked rather lovely.
“It’s a muggle photograph,” observed Harry.
“Yeah,” said Lupin.
“Who had the muggle camera?” asked Harry.
“I actually forget,” said Lupin. “It was so long ago, but what matters is that I have the picture, doesn’t it.”
Harry could see that Lupin had been crying. “You miss them.”
“A lot,” said Lupin. “I’m the last Marauder left, Harry. Wormtail betrayed James and Lily, so he really can’t be counted as one, James and Sirius are dead. That leaves me. And I can tell my time is running out.”
“What do you mean?” asked Harry.
“I just, well, werewolves generally don’t live very long, Harry. With the exception of Greyback, very few of us are able to transform back, after, a few, um, decades of being a werewolf. If not that, the werewolf blood kills them.”
“That must be horrible, knowing you’re going to die,” said Harry. “Sorry.”
“I don’t think about it much,” said Lupin. “At least, I try not to, but whenever I remember James or Sirius I think that it won’t be long until I see them again. I suppose that is the light at the end of the tunnel, everyone you miss is there.”
“But what about Tonks and the Order, you have stuff to live for,” said Harry, feeling sorry for the morbid werewolf.
Lupin smiled weakly. “That’s why I’m living today, I have things to live for.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to come with us to visit Goderic’s Hollow,” said Harry.
“I don’t mind,” said Lupin, putting the picture back in his suitcase. “I just, well, I er-”
“Don’t know what to say,” finished Harry.
Lupin smiled. “Quite right, Harry.” Lupin looked at Harry. “They would have been proud, you know.”
Harry didn’t have to ask who, he already knew.
“And I know for a fact that they wanted to live,” continued Lupin. “But they wanted to give you a chance in life, Harry. And you have done a good job so far.”
“You came here for a different reason than this, I am sure,” said Lupin.
He had temporarily forgotten why he had come here. “Yes, Remus,” said Harry, remembering. “You know about Draco Malfoy.”
“Yes,” Lupin raised an eyebrow.
“You know how he’s a deatheater,” continued Harry.
“That is debatable,” said Lupin, evenly.
“And how he nearly killed Dumbledore, and was the original one assigned to do it.”
“I am well aware of that, Harry.”
“They are letting him into Grimmald Place. He is sleeping in the room next to mine! If everyone knows that he is a deatheater, then why are they letting him in here?”
Lupin weighed his answer. “He has proven himself as not a deatheater, Harry.”
“How? I’d like to hear it,” growled Harry. “I’d like to know what lies he said. I’d also like to hear what Snape has got to say for himself. How can bastards like them get away with lie? Everyone said Snape was on Dumbledore’s side, I always said that he wasn’t. No one believed me, Dumbledore said I had inherited it from my dad and Sirius! I didn’t! I always knew-”
“The point is that I was right!”
“You were, Harry,” said Lupin.
“Couldn’t I be right about this one?”
“No one is always right, Harry.”
harry could feel that the conversation was over. As he left the room and closed the door he knew he would never trust Draco. He could never do that. He could also never forgive him for all those years where he caused Harry to suffer.
He wondered why everyone else was so obsessed with the idea that he was innocent. Because Harry could see through the act. He wasn’t.
“Harry.” Harry couldn’t recognize the voice in his dreams, but he could tell that it was familiar.
“Who are you?” he asked the shadow that was behind him.
“A friend,” answered the person.
“Who are you?” repeated Harry.
“You already know.”
“No I don’t,” said Harry feeling frustrated.
“You know who I am.”
It was the pain that woke him. His scar twinged, but not as much as it had when he had his dream about Dumbledore. He doubted whether or not the person in his dream was real, but if it was made up, then why would his scar hurt like this.
He cried out with pain, as it reached a zenith of agony.
“What?” asked Ron, sitting up in bed.
“Nothing,” said Harry as his pain subsided, and ebbed away.
“Malfoy hasn’t tried to kill you yet?” joked Ron.
“No,” said Harry. “It was just a dream.”
“Is everyone safe?” asked Ron nervously.
“yeah,” said Harry. “Just a really weird one. Go back to sleep.”
“Harry,” said Ron, checking his watch. “It’s seven.”
“No it isn’t,” laughed Harry.
Ron got out of bed, walked over to the small window and pulled open the curtains. “Look, Harry.”
Dusty sunlight filled the room, causing Harry to blink and turn away.
“And what time did you think it was?” asked Ron.
“Honestly,” said Ron, going over to his trunk and pulling out a tee-shirt. “Why the hell did you think I was up?”
“I dunno,” said Harry, getting shakily to his feet. “I thought that I had waken you, or something.”
“the whole world doesn’t revolve around you,” said a droning voice from the open door.
“Did you leave the door open?” asked Harry, glancing at Ron.
Ron shook his head no.
“Look, Potter,” said Malfoy. “Ron could have been up and it could not have involved you.”
“How long have you been there?” asked Harry.
“I heard you little cry, Potter, thought I would check and see what it was about.”
Malfoy looked as if he had just gotten up. His blonde hair was as messy as Harry’s normally was, and his eyes looked bleary. He was wearing a long green tee shirt, that didn’t quite cover up the edges of his black boxers.
Ron groaned and turned away. “You’re an embarrassment to society, Malfoy, coming out like that. You should have the common sense not to walk around like that. You in your pjs isn’t the best thing to start the day off with. And here, we are trying to preserve the innocence of the girls, not scare them.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah-”
“Hi, Draco,” said Tonks walking down the hall.
“What are you doing?” asked Malfoy.
“Going to breakfast,” she said. Instead of her pink and spiky hair, Tonks’ hair was long and brown. And she was wearing a blue tank top with a black skirt.
“Were you with Lupin?” asked Ron, rather rudely, Harry thought.
“Someone is being rather saucy today,” said Tonks. “And no,” she added at Malfoy’s raised eyebrow.
“Lupin is here?” asked Malfoy.
“Um, yeah,” said Harry. “He’s a part of the Order isn’t he.”
“He lives here,” said Tonks.
“Is it safe to let a werewolf live with normal humans?” asked Malfoy.
Tonks gaped at her cousin. “Draco...”
“What? I asked a question, it’s not like he is normal.”
“You are such a-”
“Tonks is dating him,” said Ron, interrupting Tonks’ response.
Malfoy pulled a face. “Nymphadora,” he began, “He is what, nearly twenty years older than you, he’s dirt poor, and a werewolf. That is disgusting!”
“How many years older than your mum is your dad?” asked Tonks, defensively.
“Ten years,” he answered.
“So, it isn’t wrong for me to be sleeping with him,” said Tonks.
“Oh, great!” said Malfoy, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re sleeping with him! I really need this start to my day, Potter and Weasley in their nightclothes, and finding out your are sleeping with a werewolf! My mum would be-”
“You tell your mum and she will die.”
“Is that a threat?” asked Malfoy taking out his wand.
Harry took out his own and pointed it at Malfoy. “Don’t you dare!”
“Tell me what you mean by that, Nymphadora Tonks!” shouted Malfoy.
“Voldemort probably thinks you’re alive, Draco. He is going to asking your mum all sorts of questions. Until the war is over, you aren’t going to be seeing your mother. Get over it!” She turned and walked down the staircase.
“What?” Malfoy said, looking at Harry, lowering his wand.
Harry held his wand, still pointing at Malfoy, even when he had started to go back into his room. “I told you we couldn’t trust him,” he said shutting the door.
Harry sat down at breakfast, sitting opposite the wane looking Lupin. “Hi, Remus,” he said.
Lupin looked up at Harry. “I see you are alive,” he said, trying to sound cheery, but only could manage to appear as if he was just trying.
“So Malfoy didn’t kill you?” said Hermione. “And what were you saying about us not being able to trust him?”
“He threatened Tonks this morning,” he said leaning over to look at Hermione who was sitting with one of the journals at the far end of the table. “Just because she ticked him off.”
“Did he really?” asked Lupin, directing the question at Tonks.
“Yes,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
“Why-” began Lupin, but he stopped when he saw Malfoy at the top of the stairs.
“Go ahead,” muttered Malfoy. “Just continue on talking about me as if I’m not here. I don’t mind, everyone does.”
“Why do you pretend the whole world hates you?” asked Harry.
“Why do you?” shot back Draco.
“Yes you do. ‘Everyone is out to get me, the whole world hates me. Voldemort is trying to kill me-’”
“Voldemort is trying to kill him,” said Lupin.
“Wasn’t talking to you, werewolf,” snapped Draco.
Hermione took it into her hands to change the subject, instead of letting this topic continue. “Harry what do you want to do today?” she asked.
“Um...” Harry thought. “I thought that we might go to the Dursleys’.”
“What for?” asked Ron. “Don’t you hate them?”
“Well,” said Harry, “It’s damn better than staying here, and lets just say that I think Dudley needs a good scare.”
“Revenge isn’t as great as it sounds, Harry,” said Hermione.
“I can’t believe you-”
“I’m not going to do revenge,” said Harry. “I just want to, well... Hermione you’ve never met him, you should meet him.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’d rather not.”
“Can I come?” asked Malfoy.
“No!” said Harry.
“Dead men should stay dead,” said Lupin grimly.
“Come on, professor-” began Malfoy.
“We don’t want you,” said Ron.
“That’s really nice,” said Malfoy scowling.
It was Hermione who suggested that they borrow her cousin’s car, since Ron and Harry couldn’t apperate, and she didn’t want to have to arrive in a magical way. Helena, Hermione’s cousin, had loaned her the car for the summer.
“It’s #4 Privet Drive?” said Hermione.
“Next one on the left,” said Harry gesturing out the window.
“Why can’t I drive?” complained Ron who was stuck in the back.
“Because you don’t have your license, and I bet you would crash us,” snapped Hermione.
“I wouldn’t,” muttered Ron sinking back into the seat and scowling at Hermione.
Adjusting her rearview mirror, so it wasn’t focused on Ron, Hermione sighed. “Look, it’s my cousins car, not yours, so fuck off.”
“Ron, did Hermione just swear at you?” laughed Harry.
Ron grumbled something and was silent for the rest of the drive.
Pulling up in the driveway, Harry noticed that there was an unfamiliar car in the driveway, that was in the driveway. Knocking on the door, Harry waited for someone to open the door. Dudley was the one who opened up the door. Harry could feel Hermione step away, and Harry couldn’t blame her, in his leather jacket Dudley did look rather menacing. Only though if you took into account that Hermione didn’t know him.
“What are you doing here?” asked Dudley.
“Came for a visit,” joked Harry.
“Dudley,” called Uncle Vernon from the sitting room, “Who’s at the door?”
“Just Harry and two freaks,” called back Dudley. To Harry he said, “You are going to get it for coming back, oh yes you are.”
“I can use magic, now,” said Harry. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t say it,” said Dudley.
“What? Oh you mean MAGIC,” said Harry.
“Yes that,” sneered Uncle Vernon. “I thought you left. I happen to have a visitor now, so if you don’t mind, leave now, before anybody sees.”
“Vernon, I don’t mind,” said a person who had come out into the hall.
Harry had to do a double take. It was, undoubtedly, the man he had saw in Snape’s memory a year ago. This was the man that had been yelling at the cowering woman whilst the child Snape cried in the corner.
“Harry,” whispered Hermione as they entered the house, “That’s-”
“Tobias Snape,” finished Harry. “You didn’t have to tell me, I recognized him.”
“From where?” asked Hermione.
“er, long story,” said Harry.
“It’s impolite to whisper,” said Dudley, sitting opposite his dad. “What are you whispering about?”
“Be polite, Dudley,” said Aunt Petunia. “You two are...”
“I’m Ron and this is Hermione,” said Ron. “We’re Harry’s friends.”
“You have friends,” laughed Dudley.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Ignore him.”
“So,” said Tobias Snape. “You’re Harry, Ron and Hermione. I’m Tobias Snape.”
He did in fact look a little bit like Snape. He had the same hooked nose, and his face shape was very similar. He was considerably taller, and had completely white hair. He wore glasses, and Harry put him at nearly eighty, seventy-five at the youngest.
“Harry,” whispered Ron, “It’s Snape’s dad.”
“Slow on the uptake Ron,” murmured Harry.
“So is this your nephew who goes to that freak school?” asked Tobias Snape.
“yes, it is in fact,” said Uncle Vernon. “I bet his friends go there as well.”
“It’s called Hogwarts,” said Hermione.
Harry groaned inwardly.
Uncle Vernon shushed her, but Petunia looked tartly at Uncle Vernon. “It does have a name, Vernon.”
Vernon looked shocked, for once in his life his wife had defied him.
“My son went there,” said Tobias Snape.
“I didn’t know that you had a son,” said Vernon.
“You wouldn’t know, since I never talk about him,” said Tobias Snape, cooly. “He was really odd. i haven’t seen him since he was thirteen, but even then you can tell how they will end up. he’s a freak, and so was his mother. He gave me this scar,” he gestured to a scar that ran down his cheek, “when he was three. Didn’t lay a finger on me, but there you go, it’s there. That’s the day I found out what a bunch of freaks they were. I could only take thirteen more years of living with them, then I left, I’d had enough.”
Harry didn’t like Snape, but the way his father talked about him made him almost feel sorry for Snape. But then he remembered that Snape was a murderer, and he hated him again.
“How you could stand it, Vernon, I don’t know,” said Mr. Snape. “I was lucky that the boy spent most of his time at my sister-in-law’s.”
“Severus Snape, you mean,” said Hermione.
Tobias Snape looked at her. “How do you, no wait, I don’t want to know.”
“What are the odds,” said Ron as they got into the car several hours later, “That your uncle would be mates with Snape’s dad?”
“Very small,” said Harry. “I remember him coming over when I was, um... four, I think. I never got to meet him, but I’ve known him since then, isn’t it odd?”
“Not very,” said Hermione. “I mean, they are both muggles, so it isn’t impossible.”
“So he left Eileen Prince when Snape was sixteen,” said Ron.
“Um, yeah,” said Hermione, turning the key and backing out of the driveway.
“Ha! The bastard-”
“Ron,” sighed Hermione, “Stop acting like a sadist.”
“What? It’s Snape,” said Harry, looking out the window as they passed the park.
“So don’t you think-”
“He’s not here Hermione,” laughed Ron. “Do you think he cares what we think of him.”
“No, guys,” said Harry. “Stop the car!”
“Why?” asked Ron and Hermione at the same time.
“Snape is right there in the park!”
Hermione threw all of her weight into slamming the brake. Harry threw open the door of the car, stepped out on the sidewalk taking out his wand. Ron and Hermione quickly followed.
“Stop!” shouted Harry as he caught up with Snape. They were near the trees that grew along the playground.
“Why should I?” sneered Snape.
“I see you’ve brought your friends Potter,” laughed Snape as Ron and Hermione skidded to a halt behind Harry.
Harry pointed his wand at Snape’s temple. “You should die for what you did to Dumbledore,” growled Harry.
“Tell me news, Potter, not history.”
“YOU SHOULD DIE! YOU ARE THE REASON THAT SIRIUS AND MY PARENTS ARE DEAD! YOU KILLED DUMBLEDORE, THE BEST OF US!” shouted Harry.
“There’s no need to shout,” sneered Snape. “We are all here.”
“I HATE YOU!”
“Once again, Potter, you’re stating the obvious.”
Harry could see Snape’s wand in his hand, Harry tightened his grip on his own wand. This was revenge for everything that Snape had ever done. Everything that he had caused. He could avenge everyone that Snape took away from him.
“SHUT UP, SNAPE!” bellowed Harry.
“Harry,” started Hermione, putting her hand on his shoulder.
“I HAVE TO DO THIS, HERMIONE! STAY OUT OF IT!” He pushed Hermione away. “AVADA KADRAVA!”
A flicker of green light shot out of Harry’s wand, hitting Snape. Stumbling backwards, Snape laughed.
“NO!” shouted Harry. I don’t understand, what is going on?
“You see, Potter,” said Snape, wiping some blood from his temple. “I over estimated you. I doubted it would do anything, but, as you can see. Well, it’s no matter.” Indeed, the blood had stopped flowing, and there were no other traces. “You see, only a really powerful wizard can kill, you can’t, Potter.”
Snape had no right to talk to him like that, to goad him.
“Yes, Potter, I am.”
“Expelliarmus!” shouted Snape, sending Harry’s wand over Harry’s shoulder.
“You bastard!” shouted Ron. “that’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t fair, Weasley!” sneered Snape.
Harry lunged at Snape, ready to fight in whatever way caused Snape pain. But someone caught him and held him back, and forced him to the ground.
“Hermione, let go!” shouted Harry, struggling against her.
“You can’t even beat a girl, your dad would be so ashamed.”
How dare Snape bring up his dad. “I’LL KILL YOU!”
“You don’t really mean that, seeing as you already tried.”
“SHUT UP HERMIONE!”
Taking out his own wand, Ron held it at Snape’s head height, Ron being several centimeters taller than Snape, it was around Ron’s chin height. “I’ll kill you then.”
Snape pointed his wand at Ron. “Then I’ll kill you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” snarled Harry, who was still struggling against Hermione.
“I already killed someone, why not another?” suggested Snape. “How about someone that would cause Potter the most pain?”
“You’re a coward,” said Harry.
“What did I tell you about calling me that?” spat Snape.
“COWARD! COWARD! SEVERUS SNAPE IS A BLOODY COWARD WHO PICKS ON KIDS AND SLEEPS WITH NARCISSA MALFOY!” shouted Harry into the night.
“I what?” said Snape, stepping closer to Harry.
“You come one step closer,” threatened Hermione, pointing her wand at Snape, “And I will kill you.”
Ignoring this, Snape knocked Hermione off of Harry. Kneeling down, Snape put his wand to Harry’s scar. Kneeing him in the spot that would cause Harry the most pain, Snape pressed his hand on Harry’s windpipe.
Wincing, Harry looked at Snape, who wasn’t looking at Harry.
“get off of him!” shouted Ron.
“Stupify,” said Snape, pointing his wand at Ron, who slumped dead away.
“Ron!” shouted Harry and Hermione.
“Crucio!” shouted Snape, pointing his wand at Hermione, who screamed in pain.
Writhing on the ground, she started to cry, “Stop, stop.”
“Stop it!” shouted Harry, trying to throw Snape off of him, but he couldn’t fight against Snape.
“Stupify,” said Snape.
“Get them back!”
“No,” sneered Snape. “Now that Weasley and Granger aren’t with us, I’d like to have a little chat. What did you just say I do?”
“You heard me,” said Harry definitely.
“You said I slept with Narcissa Malfoy, I believe you are incorrect in saying that.” His black eyes drilled into Harry’s green ones.
“what are you some forty year old virgin or something?” joked Harry.
Snape didn’t answer.
“I knew it!” laughed Harry.
“It would be wise, Potter,” said Snape, “Not to make me mad, seeing as I am quite ready to kill you.”
“Kill me then,” sneered Harry. “Like you killed Dumbledore.”
“There you go,” laughed Snape. “Trying to be noble like your father.”
“You can’t say that-”
“I just did, Potter.”
Harry gasped as Snape pressed down on his windpipe. “You know what, I think it is a good thing that your father is dead. You know he is a hypocrite-”
“He was not,” said Harry.
“Have I ever lied to you, Potter,” snapped Snape. “I’ve always been the one who told you the truth, everyone else lies.”
“Dumbledore didn’t. And you lied to him.”
Snape’s vein was pulsing. “I-”
“You’re a traitor. Give me a wand and I’ll kill you.”
“You can’t kill me,” said Snape.
“One of us is going to die tonight,” said Harry. “And i want it to be you!”
“No one is going to die tonight,” said Snape.
“there’s nothing stopping you from killing me. Take me and give me to Dumbledore. You did that to my mum-”
Snape stood up. “This isn’t worth my time.” Looking away, he disapperated.
Crawling over to where his wand was- since Harry was in so much pain, standing up was agony- Harry pointed his wand at Hermione. “Enervate.”
Hermione suddenly started to breath again. “Harry where is Snape?” asked Hermione.
A/N; Don’t own Harry Potter [shocking isn’t it].
Reviews are always welcomed, whether they be opinions, or corrections.
Wow, this is the longest chapter that I have wrote. I almost decide to break it up, but I kept on writing. should I keep on having them long or should I have them slightly shorter. I don’t know what you [the readers] want.
Tricked you with the pix at the start [which I don’t own]. Bet you thought it was Snape.
Once again, I would suggest rereading chapters 1-5.
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