Empty Promises

[supersonicchica]

Title: Empty Promises
Author: supersonicchica (penname: heysakuya)
Recipient: serpenscript
Pairing(s): Severus/Harry
Word Count: 5,199
Rating: m
Warnings:
Beta(s): marauderswolf
Summary: Severus Snape is summoned to Malfoy Manor after learning of the trio’s capture by the snatchers. He is prodded by the Dark Lord to torture his prior student and nemesis’ son. Will Severus’ conflicting emotions get in the way of the trio’s escape from the Manor?

Written for the 2010 round at hp_prisonerfest

Author's Notes:
Let me start off with my apologies to the requestor. I picked up the prompt as a pinch hitter, so I obviously was on a time constraint. Also, this is my first time writing this pair or slash for that matter. I hope that you will excuse my inexperience. It was a learning experience for me when I wrote this fic. I clearly didn’t have the time to read the story that you suggested for the prompt. Maybe one day I can re-write this with that extra inspiration. I did try to use all of the kinks that I was comfortable with. I truly do hope that you will enjoy this fic as intended. Again, I apologize if this isn’t exactly what you were looking for.

Big kudos goes out to my beta, (Anonymous), you have always been there to steer me on the right path and quell my insecurities, not to mention poke me with that damn pointy stick of yours, whenever my lazy arse needs it! (no pun intended)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter fandom and do not make any profit from the stories I write.



I'm lost, exposed
Stranger things will come your way
It's just I'm scared
Got hurt a long time ago
Can't make myself heard
No matter how hard I scream

Oh sensation
Sin, slave of sensation

Fully fed yet I still hunger
Torn inside
Haunted I tell myself, yet I still wander
Down, inside
It's tearing me apart

Oh sensation
Sin, slave of sensation

I'll never fall in love again
It's all over now

At last, relief
A mother's son has left me sheer
The shores I seek
Are crimson, tastes divine
Can't make myself heard
No matter how hard I scream

Oh sensation
Sin, slave of sensation

I'll never fall in love again
It's all over now

Biscuit by: Portishead


(SSPOV)

It had been several months since I had heard any new substantial news on Potter. I had left the sword in his reach this past December, the day after Christmas. It was now March and Potter still has yet to make any progress with it. Although, I was still unsure of the sword’s purpose, and why Dumbledore was so eager to get it in his possession. His folly in Godric’s Hollow a few days prior was complete stupidity on his part. He should have never stepped foot in that death trap. Where was Miss Granger? I thought she was the brain that operated Potter’s every move. No matter, now it was just a game of cat and mouse that Potter and the Dark Lord were playing. The Dark Lord playing the cat, and Potter playing the skittish mouse.

I had been in the headmaster’s quarters going over that day’s edition of the Daily Prophet. All rubbish now. The Daily Prophet was full of speculation and nothing more. Facts were such a rare commodity these days. I suppose they had to print something to keep the publication running, but if people actually bought into all of this nonsense, then we are worse off than I originally thought.

I had just skipped over the Quidditch section when I heard a panicky voice that sounded as though it was coming from Professor Phineas Black’s portrait. After tumbling into his frame, he dusted himself off and stood straight.

“Headmaster! They have been captured!” he called out.

I dropped my paper and hurried to Phineas Black’s frame. The voices of the other portraits soon filled the room. It was hard to hear the professor over the sound of the others. I waved my hands to the other portraits to try to quiet the chaos. “Shut it you lot, let the man speak!” I tried hushing the portraits.

After the cacophony of sound died down, I turned back to the frame. “What happened? Leave nothing out.” I asked.

“Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened. I only heard what was going on. The girl still has me confined to that bag of hers.”Phineas Black was still panting slightly, whether it was from fatigue or excitement, I wasn’t sure.

“Well, what did you hear then?” I questioned once again.

“The Potter boy and the other two were listening to some radio program when there was a ruckus outside of the tent. From what I could hear, it seems as though one of them had spoken You-Know-Who’s name out loud.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. Leave it to Potter to throw all caution to the wind just to keep his self-righteous ego intact. Didn’t he understand what the word ‘taboo’ meant? “Go on.”

“I think the girl stuffed the bag into one of her pockets or somewhere, because I was able to hear them get dragged out of the tent. I usually can’t hear anything. She has me so buried in that damn bag of hers, but somehow I got shifted to the top of the pile. I heard the names Scabior and Greyback. I don’t think they recognized Potter. They kept referring to him as ‘ugly’. Now I know the Potter boy is not the best looking wizard out there, but I wouldn’t go as far as to call him…”

“I don’t care what they called the sniveling brat. What happened after that?” I interrupted.

“Well, I heard them arguing over whether the boy was Potter or not. They eventually found his glasses. I believe they were taking the three of them to Malfoy Manor.” Phineas Black brought up a finger and knitted his eyebrows in concentration. “One moment…”

Phineas Black disappeared from his frame, and I sighed in impatience, waiting for him to return. A few brief moments later, he stumbled back into his frame.

“A woman is interrogating the Mud-”

“I told you not to use that word!” I snapped.

“…the girl then! I believe she is being tortured. Her screams are rather loud. The one called Greyback keeps asking to take her. I’m not certain where or why.”

Oh, I knew why the werewolf wanted the girl. Perverse creatures those werewolves were, although, Lupin is better than most werewolves - well, barely. My concern wasn’t the know-it-all. My concern was Potter.

“What about the other two? Are they with them?” I asked.

“No, Headmaster,” he simply said.

I turned away to walk to my desk when Phineas Black’s Portrait whispered softly.

“Headmaster.”

I turned back, curious if there was any more he had to offer.

“They have the sword,” he said, his head bowed.

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. I turned back to the desk and the portrait that hung behind it.

“Severus, go now!” called the panicked voice of Albus Dumbledore that came from the golden gilded frame.

“What am I to do? If they are in the Dark Lord’s grasp, then we are lost.” I shook my head in desperation and looked into the blue eyes of the previous Headmaster.

“You have to try, Severus. It was not meant to end this way.”

“And do what, pray tell? Storm the Manor and somehow miraculously rescue the children from possible dozens of Death Eaters, not to mention the Dark Lord himself. Lunacy!” I screamed out in frustration. “Admit it, Albus, it’s over. The Dark Lord has won.”

“Would you stand back if it was dear Lily herself that was in such dire need? You made a vow to me…and to her, as well!” he spoke softly.

“Lily is gone. Does it really matter anymore?” I questioned more to myself than to the painting in front of me.

“You disgust me,” he spat.

“You’ve said that before. I am clear on how you view me, Dumbledore!” I said with as much venom in my voice as I could.

“Am I wrong? If I am then prove it to me…no…to Lily. This was all because of her, wasn’t it? Don’t stop fulfilling your promise just because the road is a little dark. Don’t let it become an empty promise. Her son needs your help,” he pleaded.

“How?”

“You’re clever, Severus. I am sure a Slytherin like yourself will find a way,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

That damn twinkle. Whenever he got that little light into his eyes, it was never good. I wasn’t sure how he expected me to burst into the Manor, wand blazing and expect the children and I to come out whole. He was barmy. As I was wondering on the mental state of the eccentric Dumbledore, I felt a small twinge of heat on my left forearm. It seemed as though I no longer had a choice in the manner. My Dark Mark was now burning. I was being summoned.

“Looks like you get your wish. The Dark Lord is summoning me,” I said.

Dumbledore was now pacing in his portrait, rubbing his forehead in thought. He looked up and said, “Good, good. If you go now, it will look less suspicious.”

“I don’t how you expect me to do this, Albus. I wouldn’t be surprised if Potter is already dead by the time I arrive,” I scoffed.

“If he is, then you’re right, it’s over, but Severus, you’re wrong. Harry is alive. Just make sure he stays that way. He still has things to do and a mission to finish. Go now, before you anger him.” Dumbledore looked towards the fireplace, motioning me to use the floo.

I shook my head in defeat and walked over to the fireplace. I opened the small, circular, blue porcelain container that contained the dark floo powder. I grabbed a handful of the dust and threw it into the fire. The hot, orange flames burst and changed into a cool, emerald green as I stepped into the fireplace and called out. “Malfoy Manor.”

The swirl of colors from the floo rushed past me as I approached my destination. In my nervousness, I stumbled slightly in the Malfoy’s foyer fireplace. I quickly steeled myself to keep the calm façade that was on my face and dusted off my black robes. It was quiet in the foyer; usually there was someone to greet me after exiting the floo. I looked around and listened intently. After a few quiet moments, I could hear the noise of a small crowd coming from the hall. I left the foyer and followed the noise. I walked down the hall and passed several of the portraits that lined the wall, their frames empty. Something must have caught their attention to compel them to leave their sanctuaries. The noise led me downstairs to the drawing room.

When I opened the door to the drawing room, I saw the Granger girl at Bellatrix’s feet, cowering in fear. Bellatrix had her wand pointed at the more than usual busy-haired girl. She had several cuts and bruises on her face and arms. Her lip looked to be split as well. I noticed the werewolf, Greyback, watching the pair from one of the armchairs in the room, a leering grin plastered on his face. As I stepped into the room, I cleared my throat making my presence known. Bellatrix looked up once I had caught her attention.

“Severus? So he summoned you after all,” she drawled. At the sound of my name, the young Muggleborn looked up, her eyes wide in surprise.

“Yes, so it seems, Bellatrix. What do I see here? Ah, I see that you have Miss Granger in your possession. Were you able to procure Potter, as well?” I asked in a bored tone.

The feral woman before me cackled in mirth. “Oh, I’m just having a bit of fun with this one here. I’m teaching this Mudblood filth her place!”

Granger looked at me pleadingly. “Please, professor…” she whispered weakly.

“Shut it, Mudblood!” Bellatrix bellowed at the girl and spit furiously in her face. Granger grimaced as the saliva hit across the bridge of her nose and left eye.

I interrupted Bellatrix’s treatment of the girl. “Where is Potter? I take it the Dark Lord has been notified?”

Bellatrix flicked her head to the side, motioning to the wooden door across the room. “He’s with Potter and the blood-traitor. He’s going to crack Potter before he ends him. A proper finish for The-Boy-Who-Lived, don’t you agree?” She smirked as she pulled Granger’s hair back and dragged the tip of her wand down the length of her neck.

As I passed the pair, I could hear Granger weep softly. Bellatrix tapped her wand on the base of the girl’s neck and whispered, “After I’m through with you, Mudblood, I think I’ll go play with your little, blood-traitor boyfriend. Do you think he’ll squeal like your itty-bitty, pitiful friend, Potter?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the werewolf get up from his chair and approach the two women. I had to stay focused. Potter was my main priority. I had to get Potter to safety. The others were unfortunately expendable. I reached the wooden door and slowly cracked it open. I wanted to know what exactly I was walking into. The room was dimly lighted, making it hard to see the whole room. I could make out the bare figure of a large Death Eater kneeling over what seemed to be a body. Past him, I could see the face of another as he thrust into the same body. Pants and cheers filled the room from numerous, scattered Death Eaters.

“Come in, Severus,” a high voice hissed.

I pushed the door open and slid into the room. As I entered, the room began to become clearer. I stared at the focal point of the room. It was Potter. He was kneeled over a tall accent table. It was Thorfinn Rowle who was clearly thrusting behind him and the slight boy had Dolohov in his mouth. He made soft, gagging noises as the burly Death Eater hit the back of his throat. His glasses were missing and tears were streaming down his face. I had to look away. As much as the boy annoyed, aggravated and angered me at times, I couldn’t watch while he was being brutally raped.

Looking towards the right corner of the room I saw Draco, pale in his fear, standing behind the youngest Weasley boy, who was tied up securely, muzzled and seated in a dining table chair. Draco had his wand pointed at the back of his neck. The ginger haired boy was sobbing softly, the gag in his mouth preventing any sudden outbursts. He slowly noticed my presence and his eyes opened widely in their recognition. He started struggling in his bonds and Draco pressed the wand harshly against his neck in warning.

My eyes slid past Weasley and moved across the room until landing on the Dark Lord, who sat on the left side of the room, facing Potter.

“Severus, you finally decided to grace us with your presence.” The Dark Lord’s high voice pierced the tension of the room.

I bowed low and said, “I’m sorry, my Lord. I apologize for my delay. I see that you have captured Potter, at last.”

“Yes,” he hissed, “it seems Potter’s insolence finally caught up with him. We’re showing him what happens to those who defy the Dark Lord’s dominion.”

Lord Voldemort gestured that I should take the empty seat next to him on his left side. I reached the low armchair and sat at his request. I tried to avert my eyes from Potter’s form on the accent table, but the sounds of his soft gags were distracting and I couldn’t help but turn my eyesight to his direction, every few seconds. The Dark Lord must have sensed my uneasiness.

“Severus, is Potter making you feel uncomfortable or is it the sight of your fellow brothers that is making you uneasy.”

I looked into the Dark Lord’s eyes and nonchalantly said, “No, my Lord, although, it is quite distracting.”

Hoping that he might ask his Death Eaters to desist in their assault, I turned back to Potter. Potter tried to crane his neck to look back at me, but the large cock shoved into his mouth made that difficult.

“Would you like a taste, Severus?” the Dark Lord asked.

This is not where I was hoping for this to go. I tried desperately then to re-enforce my mental barriers, not so much so that I was totally shielding myself, as that would look suspicious, but inconspicuously hiding my shock and disgust. “No, my Lord,” I said calmly. “I think I will pass on that opportunity. The others seem to be enjoying him quite thoroughly. I would hate to get in the way.”

I could feel the sensation of the Dark Lord attempting to penetrate my mind. I allowed him easy access to the simplest emotions lingering on the surface, annoyance, impatience and boredom being the easiest three emotions to identify. Maybe this will convince the Dark Lord that I had no interest in Potter’s predicament. I tried to look past Potter, back towards Draco whose hand was growing shakier with every passing moment. The poor boy looked as if he was going to faint. Where was Lucius? I had not seen the masters of the manor since I had arrived.

All too soon I heard a familiar hiss in my thoughts.

‘I’ve sent Lucius to deal with his wife. She didn’t appreciate the subtle art of depredation my Death Eaters are sculpting in her entertainment room. She needed to be reminded of who she is hosting. I don’t deal with unruly women. As for Potter, I insist. Imagine the feel of him under your weight, Severus. Seven long years you’ve had to deal with this insolent pest in your classroom, who is the spitting image of your arch-nemesis, both in looks and in disposition, staring back at you day after day. How many times did you come to me, wanting the boy’s blood almost as much as me? If there was anyone who deserved to get a taste of it before I’ve taken his life, it’s you, my old friend.’

His slick words were enticing, but there were things that he was unaware of. That, after the Potter’s murders, I had vowed to keep the boy safe. I had made a promise to Lily and to myself. I felt the Dark Lord leave my consciousness in a cold rush. I wanted to shake my head to rid myself of the frigid wake he left behind, but I kept my composed appearance.

“Rowle! Dolohov! Finish up. Severus would like a sample.” The Dark Lord barked.

I turned to the Dark Lord again, and pleaded with him. “My Lord, I don’t want to offend you by declining your offer, but boys are not my preference.”

The Dark Lord turned to me and spat, “It’s no longer nonobligatory, Severus. It’s an order. I want Potter to break and so far he hasn’t. Maybe his despised potions professor will finally shatter him.”

I turned back to the three interlocking bodies on the table and watched in disgust as Dolohov withdrew from the boy’s mouth with a loud ‘pop’. He grasped a handful of Potter’s, unruly as ever, dark hair with his left hand and yanked roughly bringing the boy’s face up into the air as much as his neck would allow. With his right hand his stroked his cock quickly, the saliva from Potter’s mouth making his shaft incredibly slick. Potter scrunched his eyes shut and closed his mouth tightly in anticipation. Dolohov pumped for a few moments until he moaned loudly and ejaculated onto the boy’s face. The thick ropes of semen splashed against Potter’s skin in pearly globs. He rubbed his cock against the boy’s cheek, spreading the fluid across his face.

It was mere moments later that Rowle’s body seized up as he reached his peak. His thrusts slowed as his orgasm subsided. He finally pulled out of the boy and slapped his ass in a final attempt at humiliating him. As they left the boy on the accent table, I could finally see his position properly. He wasn’t bound like Weasley, but seemed to be under some sort of partial body-binding curse - Immobulus perhaps? He could still move his head, as the boy was now spitting, trying to get the rancid taste of the burly Death Eater off his tongue. His arms and hands were invisibly bound behind him and laid on the small of his back. He could move his legs freely, and as he tried to lift his upper body off of the table the Dark Lord rushed forward out of his seat, flicked his wand, and the boy was pressed against the table once again.

He circled Potter’s prone body and laughed maliciously.

“How was that Potter? Was it as enjoyable for you as it was for my followers?”

The boy looked up at the Dark Lord, venom in his gaze.

“As much as that crazy whore you keep by your side does!” Potter retorted.

“Crucio!” The Dark Lord swiftly swished his wand through the air and cast the curse upon the boy. Potter grimaced and gritted his teeth in an attempt to silence his pain. After a few brief seconds of the curse, the Dark Lord gave a gentle flick of his wrist to end it.

“Your Gryffindor bravery will get you nowhere here, Potter! Maybe your old potions professor can crack you! Severus, come forward and show Potter just how much you have come to appreciate his impertinence all these years.”

I hesitantly stepped forward and looked at Potter. He looked back at me pleadingly. I tightened my eyes and started to loosen my robes. It had to be done. As much as I hated the idea of violating Potter, it would do neither of us any good if we both ended up dead for being defiant. As I unbuttoned my robes, Weasley’s voice erupted into the room.

“You sick fuck! You were our teacher! You’re supposed to help protect us, not this. What kind of fucking professor rapes his own students?”

I turned back towards Weasley in time to see Draco cast the Cruciatus curse on the redhead. How did the boy manage to free the gag from his mouth? After Draco released the youngest Weasley boy, the Dark Lord approached him.

“Blood-traitors do not have opinions here, young Weasley. Whatever shall we do with you after that rather rude outburst?”

Then, as if on cue, Granger’s screams could clearly be heard coming from the other side of the cracked open doorway.

“No, please don’t give me to him! He’ll bite me!” she yelled.

We could hear Bellatrix’s high-pitched laughter and she snorted, “Greyback, she bores me…the Mudblood is all yours.”

The Dark Lord, his attention diverted by Granger’s screams, turned back to the boy whose breath grew rapid and eyes darted towards the doorway in his panic. The Dark Lord smiled softly.

“Diffindo.” The ropes that were securing Weasley to the chair dropped to the floor. Weasley looked up in to the Dark Lord’s face in shock.

“Imperio,” the Dark Lord softly uttered.

Weasley’s eyes grew cloudy and unfocused. He stiffly stood up from the dining table chair and walked evenly to the other room. The Dark Lord followed him out of our sight. I assume he put the boy in the corner of the room. The Death Eaters in the room grew incredibly still and quiet. We listened intently to the voices coming from the other room. Even Potter kept silent as he listened on.

“Bella, young Mr. Weasley would like to participate in playing with the girl. He’s Imperiused, maybe you can show him how it feels to have someone at their mercy. I hand over control of him to you. Don’t let him stop until they’re both damaged beyond repair.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Bellatrix said breathlessly.

“Come forward blood-traitor. Let’s see what you are capable of. Greyback, hand him back his wand,” Bellatrix said.

The Dark Lord returned to the dim entertainment room just as we heard Weasley stutter, “Cru-cru-cio.” I closed my eyes in defeat as Granger wailed in agony, “Ron, please stop!”

Potter once again tried to lift himself up to face the Dark Lord, tears blinding his vision. The Dark Lord stood before Potter and placed the tip of his wand to Potter’s soiled cheek. “You think by torturing my friends, by killing me that you’ve won. You’re wrong. People will tire of your tyranny and will fight back. It’s only a matter of time. Then you’ll be finished for good.”

Trailing the tip of his wand through the fluid on Potter’s face the Dark Lord said, “Oh, see, Potter, that’s where you are incorrect. They are too frightened to even leave their homes. Some too scared to even acknowledge that I’m back. How can people fight back if they cannot even have the courage to admit the truth to themselves?”

The Dark Lord gestured to the boy spread across the accent table and said, “Sorry for the interruption, Severus. Please go on.”

I hesitantly approached the boy and looked down at his body. I tried not to think of him as Potter… one of my students… the ‘Chosen One’… Lily’s son. I took my time disrobing. I wanted to draw this out as much as I could, not to torture the boy, but to give me enough time to think. Once I was completely nude, I stepped behind him as I lightly touched the back of his thigh. He flinched in reaction. I needed to make this as convincing as possible. I placed my hand on his ass and harshly spread his cheeks open. Rowle’s semen coated his anus and although the thought of having to mix my fluids with another man’s disgusted me, at least the boy wouldn’t be in too much pain. I smeared the fluid across his skin and brought my hand up; rubbing my fingertips together as I slightly grimaced.

“Rowle! Dolohov! You could have had the decency to tidy up after yourselves. We wouldn’t want our guest to become…sloppy,” the Dark Lord hissed. He approached us and waved his wand over the boy’s body.

“Scourgify.”

The Dark Lord then went back to the chair he previously occupied at the back of the room and intently watched as I scraped my nails against the skin of his thighs. He wouldn’t be content with myself just claiming Potter. He wanted me to break the boy. I mustered all the courage and determination inside of me as I raised my wand and pointed it to his shoulder blades. I ran the tip of my wand against the skin there and uttered an old hex that I had experimented with during my youth. When I was younger, I wanted to use this very spell on that arrogant bastard he called a father so many times. Now, I was using it on his son. The skin on Potter’s skin seared against the tip of my wand and deep, angry, red lines trailed behind. Potter groaned loudly from the pain and I felt myself harden from the sounds of his discomfort.

I felt a confusing thrill shoot through me as I harmed the boy. After his back had several lines making a crisscross pattern, I lowered my wand and placed it on the small table beside his hip. Bound as he was, there was no way he would be able to reach out for it. I used my hands to once again spread the cheeks of his ass. I placed the tip of my cock against his anus. Without any proper lubrication, this surely wouldn’t be comfortable for the boy. I had known that was the Dark Lord’s intention.

“Professor, please don’t do this,” the boy quietly begged.

I didn’t have a choice. If I even displayed an ounce of weakness or compassion, we both would be executed and what good would come from that?

I bent over the boy’s frame and whispered in his ear, “Shut it, Potter. As much as I despised your swine of a father, even he wouldn’t have begged.”

With that I thrust roughly into his body. He was so tight that I wanted to hold myself still to allow him to become accustomed to me, but that would be a kindness, so I kept pumping into him as fast as I could. The dryness chafed a bit at first, but eased with each thrust. Potter groaned again from the intrusion and started to softly sob in pain. I gnashed my teeth and closed my eyes. I had to concentrate to keep my shields up. I felt utterly conflicted. The feel of him beneath me was just as pleasurable as the Dark Lord suggested, but then I felt completely disgusted and ashamed. I was nauseated at the thought that Lily might be watching from the beyond, watching me violate her son.

I was close to climaxing when a scream echoed from the other room, a scream that didn’t belong to Granger.

“Where the fuck did you find this, werewolf!?” Bellatrix yelled.

I slowed my thrusts as we all stared at the doorway. The Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters filed into the other room, wanting to see what the commotion was about.

“Where did you get this sword? Answer me, you filthy Mudblood!” Bellatrix bellowed.

The Dark Lord’s voice angrily spoke, “It must be a fake. The real sword is with Severus at the school. Go get the goblin! He will be able to tell the difference. Might as well bring the others up as well. We wouldn’t want them to miss all the fun.”

It was just Potter and I in the room now. I bent forward and pressed my forehead against his back as I panted, trying to catch my breath. Potter hissed in pain as the sweat from my brow spread across the fresh marks on his skin. It was then that I noticed a small strip of leather around the boy’s neck. A necklace? I reached out and pulled the necklace over his head. There was a pouch hanging from the end. It looked to be a mokeskin pouch. These were extremely rare. Wherever did he acquire this? I pulled out of the boy and he grunted and winced at the action.

“Potter, what’s in the pouch?” I whispered in his ear.

“Fuck you!” he spat back.

“Shut up, Potter. Is there anything in here that might be of help to you?” I hated breaking the promise I made to myself to never let Potter know my true intentions, but I was out of ideas at this point. “I am going to release you, so you can look in the pouch. Stay lying on the table and you must hurry.”

I released him from the body-bind curse and passed him the pouch. He pulled out his broken wand, a snitch, that bloody map that Lupin was supposed to confiscate a few years back, and broken piece of mirror. All useless, until Potter saw something in the mirror that must not have caught my eye.

“Help us,” he said to the piece of mirror lying on the table.

We heard footsteps coming closer to the vacated room we were in. Potter hurriedly placed everything back in the pouch and placed his hands back in the position they were in before. I quickly threw the pouch over his head.

Draco stuck his head inside the room. He looked paler than usual. I was worried for the boy. He was becoming to look sicker as the days went by. I’m not sure how much more he could withstand. I could see that constantly being in the Dark Lord’s presence had a major effect on the boy’s disposition. He looked extremely pallid and despondent.

“The Dark lord wishes you to bring Potter in here.”

“We’ll be there shortly, Draco.”

I left Potter on the table as I quickly redressed. I noticed Potter’s clothing and glasses on the floor beside the small table and helped him get his pants on. I had to look away as I spotted the semi-dried blood on the back of his thighs from our encounter. I shoved his glasses on his face.

“Potter, you need to act quickly. I will try to distract them, but you must have that sword in your possession when you escape. Is that clear?” I asked.

“It… was you?” he asked, astonished.

“I don’t have time to explain. Let’s go.”

I grasped Potter’s hair tightly in my hand and pulled him towards the doorway. I paused before opening the door fully and glimpsed back at Potter, back at those deep, green eyes. I couldn’t look away; even behind the horrid glasses Potter wore I could see the shape and shade of her eyes. The same shade of the very eyes that haunted me every night when I slept.

“Forgive me, Lily,” I whispered as I led her son to the unknown.