The Idiot Boy

Phoenix Tears, Chapter Nine : The Idiot Boy

DISCLAIMER : The characters and many of the situations described in this story are the property of the incomparable J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this story, which exists as a work of tribute.

As always, my betas, LAxo and WriterMerrin, did an inordinate amount of work for this chapter; they have my gratitude.

"The idiot boy Splinched himself," remarked Phineas casually, having sauntered back into his frame and checked that the headmaster was the only person present.

"Which one?" asked Severus absently, not looking up from the paperwork he was sorting through.

"The idiot one, not the insolent one," replied Phineas.

"And the girl?" If anything, Severus sounded bored, as if he couldn't care less.

"Stressed, guilty." Phineas shrugged. "They've left Grimmauld Place because Yaxley caught up with them somehow, grabbed hold of her while she was Disapparating, and ended up inside the Fidelius boundary."

Severus looked up abruptly. "I think you'd better start at the beginning, Phineas. Where were they that Yaxley was anywhere near them?"

"I really couldn't say with any certainty . . . I only heard what I did because Potter left the bag open between summoning Dittany...for Weasley's injury...and summoning a tent. He did mention something about 'Umbridge's office,' by which I can only suppose they went to the Ministry."

What in the seven levels of Hell were they doing at the Ministry? Severus took a long breath through his nose. "Where are they now?" he asked.

"No idea," replied Phineas, punctuating his reply with another shrug.

"Then you had better go back to the bag and skulk about until you find out." Severus raised an authoritative eyebrow and glared at Phineas until, with a resigned sigh, Hogwarts' only other Slytherin headmaster turned on his heel and disappeared from sight.

Severus was down in the Slytherin common room when he registered that intruders had broken into his office. Sweeping his eyes around the room once as he left, he noted Draco and his newly recognised "half-sister" seated over by the fireplace; he hurried on his way.

Narcissa had been more than willing to repay the debt she owed Severus...even though it required her to acknowledge as her own a child who was no more the fruit of Lucius' loins than the Weasley twins were. She, in turn, had convinced Lucius.

Wand in hand, and his senses tingling with magical input from the office wards, Severus raced through the castle as fast as he could. He encountered the would-be thieves on the moving stairs and disarmed them easily.

"NO!" shouted Longbottom. Though wandless, he lunged wildly at Severus with the sword of Gryffindor itself.

With a snarl, Severus directed his wand at the irritating boy once again, propelling him back against the wall. The sword fell from Longbottom's grip with the force of the impact and bounced down several stairs to fall at Severus' feet. Skipping nimbly to one side to ensure that the blade avoided his toes, Severus conjured thick ropes to bind all three of his underage opponents. For good measure, he gagged them. The whole struggle was over so quickly that Lovegood and the Weasley girl, both of whom had been further up the staircase behind Longbottom, had barely moved.

Severus had been so angry with these particular students for so long that he had to take several deep breaths and force several unnecessarily aggressive ideas for retribution away into the recesses of his mind.

"Miss Lovegood, Miss Weasley, Mr Longbottom," he managed eventually, his voice dripping with his customary sarcasm. "How unsurprising that the three of you might bungle a simple burglary." He sneered at them, then gestured back up towards his office with a jerk of his head. "Shall we?" he asked.

Since the three miscreants could neither move nor speak, it was a fatuous question, and Severus ignored their furious grimaces as he levitated their bodies back up into his study, Gryffindor's sword held casually in his left hand.

He left his captives hanging in the air before his desk as he turned to survey the mess they'd made breaking the glass cabinet. With a sigh and a wave of his wand, he repaired the damage, placing the sword back into the cabinet to reinforce the futility of the trio's gesture. That done, he strolled to his chair, where he settled himself leisurely, propping his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his hands. He regarded the bound students in front of him with a deliberately pensive expression. He saw their eyes flickering from him to Dumbledore's portrait and back.

Goddamn Gryffindor pigheadedness.

Severus had no intention of handing them over to the Carrows, but since they didn't...and couldn't...know that, he took a vicious pleasure in prolonging their obvious discomfort while he ruminated on their future. When he finally spoke, they looked almost relieved.

"I can only assume that the Cruciatus to which you have all been subjected has begun to show lasting effects," he sneered. "I would have thought that you in particular, Longbottom, who has such a small stash of intelligence to begin with, might take care to conserve the little you have." At his words, Longbottom struggled convulsively against his bonds; Severus regarded him with a mild sneer. What would it take for the little prick to grasp the very real danger his ridiculous heroics involve?

"As for you, Lovegood," he continued, turning his attention to his next victim, "I must advise you to reconsider the company you keep. I had hoped for better from a Ravenclaw, and you would do well to pass that message on to your father, too. If he doesn't learn to control himself, there will be consequences for the both of you." Severus had little hope that anyone would heed his warnings, but he was doomed to try, like Sisyphus, endlessly pushing his boulder up the hill. He graced the third offender with a particularly nasty smile.

"Dear me, Miss Weasley, are you still trying to absolve yourself for your actions in first year? One's past can be such a painful burden. I would have thought, however, that you would behave with more concern for your family's feelings: they seemed so upset to lose part of their son, think how unhappy losing their only daughter will make them.

"Since endless detention and physical pain seem to act as no deterrent, I shall have to think of something more creative . . . the Forbidden Forest, perhaps?" It would, of course, have to be a punishment of which the Carrows approved. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as if he were pondering the possibilities. Then, with a languorous wave of his wand, he removed their bindings and let them drop the short distance to the floor. They stumbled on landing, but none of them fell. "For now," he snarled, "get out!"

Get out they did, too taken aback at their sudden freedom to protest. Once they were gone, Severus dropped his head onto the desk. He was so tired.

"This will not remain secret, Severus," remarked Dumbledore. "The children will talk. You will have to hide the sword before Voldemort decides to place it somewhere safer." Severus neither moved nor replied. "As long as you perform the spell adequately, a simple Geminio should suffice; in combination with a Notice-Me-Not Charm it should fool all but the most expert eyes. You can hide the original in the secret cavity behind my portrait."

The secret cavity behind your portrait? Severus raised his head at last. What else are you keeping hidden, Albus? he wondered. Obedient, however, as ever to his master, he did as he was bid.

Severus chose to report the attempted theft of the sword himself, rather than have Voldemort find out from someone else.

"You did well to come to me, Severuss." Voldemort stared into the middle distance, his red eyes glazed in thought, one hand idly rubbing the back of Nagini's head. "If Hogwarts is no longer a safe place for the sword, I shall have to place it in Gringotts. I shall inform Bellatrix later tonight." He smiled at Severus then, stretching the taught skin of his face obscenely over his cheekbones, and changed the topic. "You look tired, Severus."

"I . . . I am, my Lord."

"The Muggle-Born Registration Committee is doing extremely well, Severus, despite the slight setback in early September."

The apparent non-sequitur took Severus by surprise.

"Indeed, my Lord. I'm delighted to hear it."

"Large numbers of Mudbloods have been rounded up and sent to Azkaban." Voldemort paused. "I want to reward you, Severuss," he explained, reaching out with his near hand to cover Severus' own where it lay on the arm of his chair. "You desired a Mudblood once, I thought perhaps you might like one now."

Severus felt nauseous. "That was a long time ago, my Lord! I was young. There have been other women since, purer women . . . more worthy . . ." he trailed off, swallowing heavily, uncertain whether his Occlumency shields had been strong enough to hide his reaction from the Dark Lord's slit-eyed gaze.

The Dark Lord hummed softly. "I have been thinking about half-bloods, Severus. After all, you and I have a lot in common...for one thing, we both killed our fathers."

Severus wasn't sure whether Voldemort had actually changed the topic; his nerves were completely on edge.

"So many of my pureblood servants have let me down, Severus. But not you."

"My Lord, you hon..." Severus broke off immediately at the sight of Voldemort's raised hand.

"It seems logical to recruit several more half-bloods."

Voldemort paused, his long fingers stroked lightly against the back of Severus' hand. The silence went on so long that Severus decided he had to speak; it was on the tip of his tongue to mention that Dumbledore, too, had been a half-blood, when the Dark Lord spoke again.

"Thus, I will ask you once more: are you sure, Severus? There is no-one...no Mudblood...that you desire?" Voldemort sounded disappointed, as if Severus' refusal had denied him a special treat.

Ye Gods, what might I have become?

Threaded through with disgust, an awful, powerful idea insinuated itself into Severus' thoughts. Dare I? He let some of his nervousness show on his face. "Well," he began, then broke off.

"Yes?" The Dark Lord sounded keen, terrifyingly eager. The weight of his hand pressed down on Severus' own.

"There is one . . . but I wouldn't dare to presume . . ."

"Go on, Severus!"

Severus wet his lips before he spoke. "Hermione Granger."

"Potter's Mudblood?" Voldmort sounded both astounded and delighted. "You desire her?"

Severus shrugged and, involuntarily, coloured slightly. "The girl is quite intelligent," he replied defensively. "She could be of use to me in and out of the bedroom."

"Wonderful!" gasped Voldemort, throwing back his head and laughing with slightly deranged delight. "Once again you plan to be my means of retribution!"

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Severus pushed away his intense nausea. "There is one other thing, my Lord," he ventured. Severus found himself the focus of Voldemort's intense gaze. "I am not the kind of man who takes kindly to other men's leftovers. I would want her delivered to me . . . unharmed."

Voldemort nodded his head in acquiescence. "A reasonable request, Severus. I will see that it is done."

Severus smiled and thanked Voldemort graciously; he gave no indication of how sick at heart he felt.

Phineas skidded into his portrait. "Thank Merlin!" he cried. "I can see again!"

Severus looked up from an endless pile of administrative paperwork. In an attempt to keep students out of the Carrow's hands, he had re-instated several of Umbridge's educational decrees. The other teachers, however, had seized on the policy changes as an opportunity to waste his time. They were referring every single decision that they could dredge up from their daily lives to be approved by the headmaster before they could act.

"That wretched girl dared to blindfold me! Me! . . . But, but that's not what I had to say, Severus: the idiot boy has left!"

"He what?" Severus was honestly astounded. Shock, anger and despair flooded through him in quick succession. "Why? They need him."

"They had an argument." Phineas shrugged. "Adolescents."

Albus sighed. "I feared this might happen," he remarked, shaking his head gently.

Severus shot him an irritated glance. "Start at the beginning, Phineas," he snapped. He had risen to his feet, his paperwork discarded, and was pacing back and forth.

"Well," Phineas took a deep breath, "it was the Mudblood who..."

"Don't use that word!" snarled Severus, spinning on his heel and looming menacingly towards the frame where Phineas hung.

Phineas looked taken aback. "Fine, no need to be so rude . . . the girl, then . . ." The portrait furrowed his brows distractedly for a moment and then regained the thread of his story. "It was the girl who summoned me, quite rudely in fact, and then had the temerity to blindfold me."

Severus ground his teeth in frustration and resumed his pacing. Get to the point, Phineas! he wanted to shout.

"But I could tell all three of them were there. Somehow they'd heard about the small disciplinary incident concerning the sword of Gryffindor; they seemed concerned about their little friends."

"They fought about that?"

"In a sense. First they asked several unsubtle questions about the sword..."

Dumbledore interrupted, "Did they figure out why they need it?"

"I'm getting to that, but first someone (presumably the girl, she seems to do most of the work) stuffed me back into the bag...rather summarily, I might add..."

By this stage Severus couldn't have cared whether or not Granger had sliced Phineas' canvas into small strips with a steak knife; he just wanted the portrait to get on with his story.

"...and then threw the bag aside! If she had been more careful, though, the clasp would not have popped undone, and I would have heard nothing further."

"Sweet Salazar's Hufflepuff lovechild! Get to the point, Phineas!" exploded Severus, pushed beyond the limits of his endurance.

"Alright, alright!" Phineas crossed his arms in annoyance, but did as he was bade. "Potter and the girl were excited at the realisation that the sword could destroy the Horcruxes, but Weasley was worried about his sister, and, for some reason," Phineas' looked momentarily confused, "the other members of his family. The upshot was that he stormed out. He asked the girl to go with him, but she refused."

"She . . . Where did he go?"

"No idea."

Severus blinked at the portrait several times until a surge of fury overcame his feelings of blank disbelief. "Is the boy completely stupid? There are Snatchers everywhere! If he is taken to the Dark Lord, or even sent back here, the consequences will be enormous!" He spun on his heel once more, stalking out across the room in one direction, only to spin quickly at the far wall, his robes billowing dramatically, and stride back; then the pattern repeated once more. For several minutes, no-one said anything. "Without Granger to keep him safe, he'll be caught within days. He might even have been captured already." He halted his pacing at the window, staring through his own reflection and out into the darkness. Then he spun back towards the room fired with sudden purpose. "I have to find him first."

How he might do so was still problematic. Several of the portraits around the room began to mutter, calling out possible suggestions for how to track the boy down.

Almost immediately, however, Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. "As long as Mr Weasley retains possession of the Deluminator, locating him will not be a problem."

Slowly, Severus raised his head and brought his eyes up to meet Dumbledore's gaze. The portrait had the grace to look a little discomforted. "Are you saying, Albus, that you have had the means to locate them this entire time and have only now decided to let me know?"

"The time was not yet right."

Anger was surging through Severus' body, and against his volition, the pitch and volume of his voice increased dramatically. "We could have given them the sword long ago!" he shouted.

"Until they realised what to do with it, there was no point giving it to them," replied Albus reasonably.

Severus threw his arms wide in frustration. "Well, now they have, and it's too late! Weasley has abandoned his friends, leaving us unable to locate them! Not only has he put himself in danger, he's deprived Potter of the tool he needs to complete his task. If you, Albus, had deigned to share this information earlier, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

"Enough, Severus! I have my reasons." The painting could manage only a fraction of the righteous anger that the man himself had been capable of, though it remained impressive. "Do you want to find Mr Weasley, or not?"

Severus took several shaky breaths, clenching and unclenching his fists. Not for the first time, he reminded himself that arguing with a portrait was beneath him. "Very well," he ground out eventually.

Albus beamed. "Luckily for us, I had the foresight to paint the Deluminator's twin into my portrait." As he spoke, the painting reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a small silvery cylinder, the size and shape of a cigarette lighter. His eyes twinkled merrily. "All I need is for you, Severus, to supply the magic." With the Deluminator held in his left hand, Dumbledore pressed the palm of his right hand against the picture plane, flattening it onto the surface of his painting as if it were a pane of glass. "Take out your wand, and put your other hand on mine," he instructed.

Severus did as he was told without comment, pressing his left hand flat against the canvas of Dumbledore's portrait and extending his wand in his other hand.

"Now, think very hard about Ronald Weasley. . . . Are you ready?"

When Severus nodded, Albus clicked the Deluminator he held in the portrait. Severus felt the surge of magical energy flow from his wand, through the point of contact with the canvas and through, into the painting. All the light in the room...the candles in the chandelier and the torches on the walls...flew from their sockets and condensed into a pulsing, bluish ball of light that hovered near the tip of Severus' wand. In colour, it was similar to an activated Portkey, and it cast a set of eerie shadows, throwing into sharp relief the tired lines of Severus' face.

Severus turned his gaze towards Albus, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, almost apprehensively, he peeled his left hand from the canvas and reached out towards the light. He had expected it to transport him away, but instead, the light itself seemed to seep into his fingertips. He felt it flow up his arm and settle somewhere in his chest, leaving the room in near darkness, with the windows marked as patches of slightly lighter grey. With the light of the room lodged in his chest, Severus knew what to do. Somehow, he knew that he could Apparate to where Weasley was...not unlike the way that he could Apparate to where Voldemort was when the Dark Mark was active, although the sensation of that knowledge was different. The Deluminator's light felt literally light...both luminous and weightless. The Dark Mark ached; it was heavy with pain.

"Lumos," he whispered, and a new glow sprung from the tip of his wand. Severus began to step around the desk and move towards the door.

"Remember, Severus," called Albus in warning, "he mustn't see you or know that you have helped him! It is imperative that Harry not realise which side you are on."

"Never fear," replied Severus. "I'll work something out."

Severus moved quickly and surely through the corridors of Hogwarts, arriving at the Apparation point within moments. Once there, he took a few seconds to compose himself, then Apparated with precision, careful to make as little noise as possible.

He appeared in a forest somewhere. A nearby campfire threw the trees and shrubs into a flickering, golden relief. Severus Disillusioned himself immediately, not for the first time wishing it were possible to Apparate under the charm, then crept towards the fire.

His concern, it seemed, had been well founded: Weasley had stumbled straight into the hands of a band of Snatchers. Five of the thugs were visible around the fire. No other prisoners could be seen, though they might, Severus reasoned, have been stashed elsewhere. Weasley, for his part, had been disarmed, and a burly man had him by both arms. The two of them looked as if there'd been an altercation.

"Who'd you say you were, again?" asked one of the others. Severus noticed he had two wands out...presumably the spare was Weasley's.

"Stan Shunpike," replied Weasley belligerently. "I may look young to you, but I've been out of school for several years."

Severus rolled his eyes and edged around several other trees in order to get a clean shot at the man who was talking.

"Oh, yeah? It's just that red hair of your is pretty distinctive . . ." He trailed off as Severus' Confundus Charm smacked him on the shoulder. The man shook his head a little woozily, as if trying to shake water from his hair. "Shunpike, you say? There might be something in that."

Severus Confunded the man who had hold of Weasley's arms as well, then Levitated a small pebble and flicked it at one of two Snatchers who sat on the far side of the campfire.

"Oy!" exclaimed the man he struck, turning and belting his companion on the arm. "What was that for?" The two of them were soon wrestling on the ground, and the fifth man ran towards them in some concern. The two Confunded Snatchers wrinkled their foreheads in confusion and turned blearily towards the commotion.

At that moment, Weasley grabbed his chance. He elbowed his captor firmly in the stomach and wrenched his arms free. Grabbing the man's wand, he turned it on the one who had spoken, though he was currently too out of it to put up much of a fight.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Weasley, pointing the stolen wand at the hand that held his own precious length of wood and unicorn hair. Obligingly, it flew through the air and he caught it neatly. Without hesitation, Weasley Disapparated away.

Severus let out a silent breath of relief before promptly Stunning each of the five Snatchers; after that, it took very little time to Obliviate them. Severus checked quickly that the Snatchers had no other prisoners in need of liberation, then he, too, turned into the pressing darkness of Apparation.

"Quickly, Phineas," he called as he ran back into his office. "Check and see whether the idiot boy has returned."

It took Phineas several minutes, but the response he returned was negative.

"Very well," replied Severus grimly, moving to Dumbledore's portrait and pressing his hand up against the canvas, "again please, Albus."

Once again, the blue light of the Deluminator led him to a forest, although this time the only light was the thin beam of Weasley's Lumos. Even without the visual confirmation of Weasley's whereabouts, Severus would have known precisely where they boy could be found, as he maintained a near-constant stream of muttered profanities. Severus Disillusioned himself and carefully applied Silencing Charms to his boots. Even with such precautions, he would have to be careful because rustling leaves and cracking twigs would give his presence away.

Weasley was making his way along the banks of the river with some difficulty. After following him for half-an-hour or so, Severus realised that the boy must have injured his hand: he was carrying it cradled against his chest. Severus couldn't be sure in the dim light, but it seemed as if Weasley had bound it with a handkerchief.

Soon, it started to rain. Large, heavy raindrops turned the ground slippery and treacherous. Severus didn't dare to risk a shield charm and was quickly soaked through. His hair hung down limp and wet beside his face. Still, despite the discomfort, he was glad of the weather. The silvery glow of Weasley's shield made him easier to follow, and the noise of the rain pattering against the leaves and thudding onto the surface of the river admirably covered the noise of Severus' own passage through the underbrush.

The grey, miserably wet dawn had passed, though the sun did little to penetrate the heavy blanket of clouds, before Weasley reached his destination. It was clear to both him and to Severus that Granger and Potter had already departed. The trampled patch of earth indicated exactly where the tent had been, though the rising water of the river would soon erase all signs of their camp.

At the apparent lack of tent, Weasley's shield charm faltered, and he sunk to his knees in the mud. The boy looked genuinely upset, though Severus, who had paused under the branches of the nearest tree to observe him, could muster very little sympathy. After several minutes with his head bowed, his shoulders shaking with heavy sobs, Weasley rose to his feet. He wiped the back of his hand roughly across his face, and pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. Then he Disapparated.

This, thought Severus irritably, is not the most efficient way to track somebody's movements. With a sigh, he Apparated to Hogwarts yet again and repeated the procedure...pausing only long enough to dry his clothes with a quick Warming Charm.

When he popped into existence after the third of his Delumniator-led Apparations, he knew a moment's panic. Severus had appeared on the top of a windswept cliff in broad daylight; the open terrain meant that his arrival might have been noted by anyone. He Disillusioned himself immediately and dropped flat. Then he waited, lifting his head to look around, his heart pounding almost painfully. To his initial surprise, he could see no-one and no place where Weasley might have hidden himself. It took several minutes until he realised what had happened: the Fidelius charm.

Severus conjured a sheet of parchment, then raised himself up onto one knee, placing the parchment on the ground. Scooping up a handful of dirt, he sprinkled it carefully over the parchment in a thin layer. Placing his wand against one corner, he sent a complicated variant of the Point Me Charm vibrating through the paper. The grains of dirt trembled and skittered across the surface, resolving themselves into a series of numbers, spelling out the longitude and latitude of his current location. Next, he conjured a quill and copied the co-ordinates down. Thus informed, he Disapparated back to Hogwarts.

Within minutes of his return to the office, Severus had checked the co-ordinates in a battered magical atlas that had once belonged to Albus: Shell Cottage, just outside Tinworth, currently home to William and Fleur Weasley.