1,339Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world. No, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters, surprising though that may be. JK Rowling owns the characters – I'm simply expanding on what she provides.
Summary: Harry is given a diary by Dumbledore and, when he writes in it, he receives an unexpected response. His correspondent learns of Harry's less-than-suitable living conditions and an unlikely bond is formed. Abused!Harry, DrugAddict!Harry.
Warnings: Swearing, drug abuse, reference to child abuse, reference to sexual abuse/rape in later chapters.
Harry drew his own mind backwards as quickly as he could, trying desperately to retreat and cut the connection before the green light caught him.
His quiet voice was lost to the deafening roar of the fire in the night.
"Avada kedavra".
Severus sprinkled the ground acromantula legs onto the surface of the simmering orange potion and counted to 12 slowly in his head before stirring the thick liquid counter clockwise with a pewter rod. He waited for the liquid to lighten to a canary yellow before he picked up the next ingredient.
It had been four days since the demise of the Dark Lord. Four days since anyone had seen or heard from the Potter brat. Four days of trying to create an antidote to the dark mark potion. Not that Nymphadora or Dumbledore seemed bothered about the lack of antidote. But at least it gave Severus something to do. Something to focus on. Something to take his mind off of the missing child.
Christmas had passed without him even really noticing. His thoughts always on that night where everything had changed.
He drew his mind back to the present and dropped four newt eyes into the cauldron, stepping back hastily as yellow turned to green, and then black. He flicked his wand and the flame under the cauldron disappeared, followed closely by the liquid within it, before it could explode. He couldn't seem to get past this step. He threw his stirring rod across the room at the stone wall and swore under his breath.
He stalked back towards his quarters, his thoughts returning to that night, despite his best efforts to distract himself.
Severus had relished in the grim enjoyment of watching Nymphadora summon Pettigrew again and again. His arm had been burning in agony from the continuous summons, despite the pain potions he had ingested, so he had no doubt that the rat's arm was burning more.
They had caught a huge number of Death Eaters, the only notable absences being Wormtail, Malfoy, Goyle and McNair. Most of the followers had been immediately kissed by a dementor. A few had been questioned briefly under veritaserum, but had provided little information. They had been unable to reveal the Dark Lord's current location, even under the truth serum's effects.
Once it had become apparent that no more Death Eaters were likely to respond to the summons that night, Dumbledore and Moody had left to await news at the Ministry of Magic.
It was assumed that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would be the first to know if Harry used magic, and that would be the best way to track him. The rest of the group had continued attempting to summon the unaccounted for Death Eaters. As the minutes ticked by without news, however, Severus had grown impatient.
He had abruptly pulled his arm away from Tonks and flicked his wand, two galleons appearing in his left hand.
"Where are we and what is the password for the floo?"
The metamorphmagus looked at Shacklebolt across the room, who sighed but didn't bother arguing.
"We are at Crawford House. The password is dark mark." He had said quietly to the potions master.
Shacklebolt was one of the more tolerable aurors that Severus had come across. He was meticulous and talented, and trusting, but not stupidly so. He obviously trusted Snape well enough, however, based on what had occurred so far that night.
Without missing a beat, the potions master had slipped one coin into his pocket and tossed the other to the dark skinned auror, who caught it easily.
"Please contact me immediately if you receive any news."
With that, he had swept from the room, his robes billowing behind him. Remus had followed him through the doorway to ask the dour man where he was going.
Snape did not even bother to acknowledge that the werewolf had spoken. He threw a handful of floo power down and followed it into the green flames, speaking his destination clearly, while hoping that the whispered password had not changed since he had last visited.
"Malfoy Manor."
It was the middle of the night when he had stepped elegantly from the flames and Severus wasted no time in striding as quickly as he could in the direction of the sleeping quarters. He had not moved too far down the first dark hallway when he had been met unexpectedly by his godson.
As the cool grey eyes registered his presence, the slim teenager let out a shocked gasp. Snape caught the look of panic that graced his features before they were schooled into an emotionless mask once again.
"Uncle Sev, I thought I heard the fl-"
The tall, dark haired man was upon him before he could finish his sentence. The ex-spy hadn't missed the panicked look and he knew, in that instant, that Draco knew more than he should. He grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt with both hands and slammed him hard against the wall, not bothering to draw his wand. When he spoke, it was a dangerous hiss, his face close to the younger wizard's own.
"Tell me what you know."
Each word was enunciated slowly, angrily, purposefully. Draco grabbed at the hands and tried to shrink back but the cold wall behind him prevented any escape.
"Nothing. I don't know anything!" He spoke quickly, desperately.
"Where is your father?" Snape spat, still not loosening his grip on the boy's clothes.
"I don't know! He left a few hours ago and hasn't returned."
The boy's grey eyes met Snape's sharp glare and then darted away quickly, too quickly.
"Tell me what you know, or I will take the information myself." Snape all but snarled at his godson.
The teenager closed his eyes then, and took a steadying breath. His voice was shaky when he spoke next.
"He asked me to bring him here. He had his invisibility cloak. I tried to talk him out of it. I don't know where they are now, Sev, I swear."
No points for guessing who the boy was talking about. The young blonde looked, then, at the his professor's left forearm, the dark mark clear against his pale skin, the sleeve of his robe still rolled up, and then raised his eyes once more to meet the furious gaze. Severus' eyes followed Draco's.
"If that boy is dead, Draco, you may as well brand yourself and save the Dark Lord the trob-"
"Unhand my son immediately, Severus."
Narcissa's voice rang out strong and clear in the otherwise silent manor. Severus kept his gaze locked with Draco's, but he could see that her wand was trained on him in his peripheral vision.
"I was just leaving."
He could feel the coin in his pocket growing warm and he immediately withdrew his hands, as if touching the youngest Malfoy disgusted him. And with that, he spun on his heel, robes billowing out behind him as he stalked back down the hallway to the fireplace. He could feel Narcissa's wand tracking his every move, but she hadn't moved to stop him.
He strode back into Crawford House and nodded gratefully to Kingsley for using the coin to communicate, rolling his sleeve back down as he did so.
"The Ministry has located him. He used his wand to cast some shields a few moments ago. Albus is getting the apparition coordinates now."
At that moment, the floo flared green and the Headmaster stepped through, his eyes steely with determination. The elder wizard shared the location and the plan to the waiting wizards without hesitation – time was of the essence.
It was agreed that Moody would remain at the Ministry and coordinate the aurors from there. They were each provided with a few muggle matchboxes that had been spelled into portkeys.
Red ones for any Death Eaters to be portkeyed to Crawford House, where Lupin and Weasley would deal with them.
Green ones for any allies to be portkeyed directly to St Mungos, if required.
Blue ones for the aurors to return to the Ministry.
And yellow ones for the Order members to return to Hogwarts.
Severus had barely waited long enough to receive the portkeys before he apparated to the location he was given with a loud crack.
The first thing that had struck the potions master, when he arrived at the edge of the clearing, was the thick smoke billowing from a raging fire only a hundred metres or so away. It had looked like half of a forest was on fire, the blaze stretching up towards the night sky, which should have been cloudless but was, instead, dark with suffocating smoke. The air was frigid, despite the raging fire, and a cool wind whipped across the exposed skin on his face and hands.
Without hesitation, he rushed forwards towards the inferno, absently noting the presence of a tall, robed wizard with a white mask at the edge of the apparition boundary. He turned to face them, an incarcerous on his the tip of his tongue. However, the Death Eater hadn't even bothered to raise his wand, they faced one another for a long moment. Severus knew from the posture alone that it was Malfoy. He met the grey eyes, albeit in the semi-darkness he couldn't really make clear eye contact, and nodded curtly. A loud crack was the only response as the blonde blinked from view. He was no doubt returning to his family to construct his alibi.
Lucius had become somewhat of an enigma to Severus. Although he had been an active Death Eater for a very long time, he no longer seemed to be particularly interested in the war in general. The blonde always responded promptly when summonsed, and would partake in Death Eater duties when it was expected of him, albeit with little enthusiasm, and shared enough information with the Dark Lord to avoid being tortured frequently. However, the blonde had withdrawn from being a passionate supporter in recent years. Severus wasn't entirely convinced that the aristocrat had lost faith in the Dark Lord, but he new that aside from the dark mark on the man's arm, there was not much that the Ministry could commit Lucius for if the war was to end. Smart man.
Severus turned back towards the fire and saw Pettigrew on the ground in this clearing. He was slumped against a large granite boulder, apparently unconscious, and Severus barely registered the rat's presence before moving closer to where he could hear the Dark Lord shouting curses into the flames. Someone else could deal with that scumbag.
He began casting charms to clear the air as he stepped further into the thick smoke. His throat was dry and his chest heaved to draw in what oxygen he could. He could feel his eyes burning from the stinging smoke.
He cast the air clearing charm again, his vision clearing for a moment, and he thought he saw a figure between the flames before they engulfed it once again. He couldn't hear the voices now, though the roar of the fire was loud enough to drown out most noise. He tried to push closer to the flames – if the Dark Lord was still casting, then chances were high that the boy was still alive.
As another tree stump was swallowed up by the blaze, Snape stumbled backwards a few steps and felt sweat dripping down his spine. There was silence for several minutes as the heat and smoke from the flames felt all-encompassing. Then he heard a female voice casting the water charm and he shook himself from his reverie, assisting Tonks with a few well-placed aguamenti of his own.
Green light sparked from behind a wall of flames for a moment and then silence reigned once more. The wizards cast more water from their wands, dousing the flames as efficiently as they could. Each time they were able to press forwards, smoke and heat pushed them back. It was several long minutes before they began to get the blaze under control.
A motionless robed figure on the ground drew their attention first. Tonks rushed over and gagged at the sight, but didn't vomit.
"Voldemort. I think he's dead."
The other wizards approached and Dumbledore began to chant a long string of latin, a pale blue light emanating from his wand as he did so. The spell took a long time and when he finally finished, the body of the Dark Lord glowed blue for a moment before the spell dissipated.
"His soul is within his body, and I have contained it. He is dead."
The Headmaster looked impossibly old and tired in that moment. His wand arm shook with magical exhaustion, and he sank to the ground beside the form of the evil wizard. He then drew a portkey from his pocket, dropping a blue matchbox onto Voldemort's chest before muttering the trigger. The corpse blinked from sight.
Shacklebolt handed Albus a green matchbox, next and gave the old wizard a hard stare, not allowing him to argue. It was only seconds before the old man sighed and also disappeared.
The cracks of more aurors arriving filled the air, but Snape had already turned back to the blaze to search for the Gryffindor teenager.
He had been unprepared, at the time, for how fruitless this search would be.
Four days. And still not a sign that the child was alive. He murmured the password and strode elegantly into his quarters. He half-expected to see the child ensconced in an armchair by the fire, as was his custom on many evenings over the last few months. Alas, his sitting room was empty.
He raised his hand to summon a bottle of firewhiskey when his heart stopped. He sucked in a harsh breath and glanced around suspiciously, but was surrounded by silence. He narrowed his dark eyes and stepped slowly towards the low coffee table between the armchairs.
His heart kicked into gear again and began to hammer wildly against his ribs. He reached out and picked up the familiar-looking leather diary that was on the table. It was not his own. And he knew it hadn't been sitting there for the last four days. He gently opened it, glancing at the many pages filled with Harry's untidy scrawl.
He flipped forwards to the very recent conversation about what they might do once the war was over. Those innocent words stared up at him from the pages.
I'd probably disappear somewhere far away and start a new life.
the end