Dumbledore's Army

Phoenix Tears, Chapter Nineteen : Dumbledore's Army

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 have done a sterling job.

Severus was able to sneak out to walk on the beach with Granger only twice, but both meetings seemed freighted with emotional intensity. For reasons of security, he had been Disillusioned, yet to be completely honest, he hadn't minded: he'd been able to watch her without having to worry that he was staring.

"It was just hard," she said during his second visit, "knowing that I was helpless, that I couldn't do anything. Bellatrix had all of the power..."

"Nonsense," he said sharply, cutting across her. She turned towards his voice, but her eyes stared through the spot where he stood. "You had information she wanted, therefore you had the power."

"But I couldn't do anything!" she insisted.

"Are you seriously implying you had no choice?" Severus delivered the question in his sceptical-teacher voice, the one that made even confident students doubt the ingredient they were about to add to their cauldron and double check the instructions.

"What else are you suggesting I could have done?" Granger sounded angry, and a bit like she might cry. She was no longer trying to look at him, but had come to a stop, staring out at the green-gold light of the sun as it gradually rose up over the horizon. Her arms were crossed, and she had a fierce look on her face.

"I'm not suggesting anything," replied Severus. "But you could have crumbled. You could have betrayed your friends and ideals just to stop the pain. You could have spilled every secret with which you'd ever been entrusted. But you didn't. You chose not to. Instead, you endured." He broke off, aware that he'd raised his voice with each additional sentence.

After a long moment, Granger let out the breath she'd been holding. "I guess you might be right," she conceded before spinning on her heel and stalking off. She chose the direction so haphazardly that she almost walked into him.

It was that same morning, during breakfast, that events at Hogwarts spun completely out of control.

Enthroned in the ridiculously ornate seat that was once Dumbledore's, Severus took a sip of his first espresso of the day. As he swallowed, he let his eyelids flutter closed for a brief second, luxuriating in the subtle sensation of his brain relaxing, of essential synapses connecting. He might even have sighed.

The arrival of the post, only moments later, brought his attention back to the scene around him: Severus couldn't afford to indulge in anything but the level of vigilance Mad-Eye loved. The sky, as reflected in the charmed ceiling, was scattered with fluffy white clouds, and the morning sun streaked down into the room in ribbons of golden dust motes that lit up some students and left others in shadow. As the post owls circled the room, they soared in and out of the bands of light, and the colours of their feather flared brighter and darker accordingly.

When Severus noticed the distinctive silhouette of Lucius' eagle Owl soaring towards him, he narrowed his eyes. The bird landed on the staff table, folding its large wings elegantly to avoid the milk jug, and held out its leg. Offering the owl a piece of bacon from the end of his fork, Severus unfastened the proffered scroll. The Carrows, he noticed, were avidly watching his every move.

Severus waited until the owl flapped off towards the Slytherin table...where Draco could be relied on to lavish it with treats...before unfurling his letter. He used the time to scan his eyes over the room. There were fewer students than there were in a typical year, and the house tables had shrunk accordingly; it kept the students clustered up in the space directly under the teachers' eyes.

He found the object of his attention without difficulty: Longbottom had a letter of his own. As the boy's eyes dropped to read his mail, Severus glanced down at his own missive.

Severus,

Lucius.

Keeping his head bowed, with his hair hanging forward to shield his eyes, Severus glanced back at Longbottom. As he watched, the boy closed his fist convulsively, crushing his letter. Longbottom's eyes sought out the High Table, and for a second, their gazes met. Severus caught a flash of anxiety and a fierce, hard pride before Longbottom pushed himself to his feet. Clapping his nearest classmate on the shoulder, Longbottom made a jovial-looking excuse, turned on his heel and strolled towards the door of the Great Hall. Surely it was only Severus who could spot the tense lines of the boy's shoulders?

"Severus?" Alecto had noticed Longbottom's rather abrupt departure from the breakfast table and was anxious to know the contents of Severus' letter.

With a wave of his hand, Severus sent the parchment winging down the table towards the Carrows, who now sat in the spot that was rightly Hagrid's. Amycus grabbed the letter out of the air, and the two siblings bowed their heads over it immediately. Severus sat half turned so that one eye watched Longbottom's casually slow progress towards the door, the other fixed on the Carrows.

"Stop him!" shrieked Alecto suddenly, leaping to her feet and pointing one yellowed finger accusingly at Longbottom's back.

Amycus pulled out his wand, Longbottom broke into a run, and Severus sprung into action. Pushing up from the arms of his chair, he lifted his feet onto his seat, and from there, leapt up onto the table. He took one stride, and then jumped, clearing the table and the raised platform on which it stood to land on the floor. His robes were still in mid-billow when he broke into a run, streaking down the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

His shortcut had put him in front of the Carrows, but they weren't far behind. He could hear them scrabbling down the staircase adjacent to the Slytherin table, shouting at the students to help as they came.

Longbottom was only metres from the door. He was moving quickly, but Severus was gaining. If only he could get to him first, he could take him to his office; he could salvage the situation somehow.

As several of the Slytherins rose to help the Carrows, Severus saw other students rising too...Gryffindors, mostly, but also some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Dumbledore's Army. The room was in uproar, Minerva was shrieking, and Severus realised that he was only seconds away from open warfare and utter disaster. As Longbottom disappeared through the door, Severus abandoned Plan A.

He wheeled on his heel and flung out both arms, his wand was held in one hand and his robes spun out dramatically behind him.

"Silence!" he commanded. The occupants of the Great Hall froze.

"But, Severus!" objected Amycus, finding his voice first.

Severus beckoned the two Death Eaters closer with a jerk of his head. "Surely two fully qualified wizards can handle one underage wizard without assistance?" he sneered sotto voce.

"But he's getting away!" whinged Alecto.

Severus stared down his nose at her without speaking until she shuffled her feet awkwardly.

"Then you had better get started, hadn't you?" he said finally. With an exclamation of surprise...on Alecto's part...and irritation on that of Amycus, they turned and ran after Longbottom. Severus could only hope that the boy had had enough of a head start.

"Back to your seats!" he thundered, turning his attention back to the other students. Those who had been standing in their places sat abruptly, others slunk back towards their spots, moving as subtly as possible in order not to attract attention.

"Sir?" inquired a quiet voice by his elbow. Severus turned to find that Draco Malfoy had come across to stand beside him. "I could go and help, if you wanted."

Severus stared appraisingly at the young man before him. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. "Go and sit down," he instructed. With a formal half-bow that reminded Severus of Lucius, Draco did as he was bid.

"Finish your breakfast!" he barked to the room at large. Most of the students obeyed mechanically, obediently shovelling food into their mouths, chewing and swallowing. Not a single person spoke. Severus patrolled back and forth along the far wall, his arms crossed and a masterful scowl plastered on his face.

Surely not even Longbottom is stupid enough to be caught by the Carrows?

On his next turn, he scanned along the line of teachers seated at the High Table. Hooch...damn her...caught his eye and winked. Her proclamation of interest in his motivations had provided Severus with very little comfort. Quite apart from the endless lectures it had inspired from Dumbledore, who was concerned that Severus had been insufficiently careful, Severus found it increasingly difficult to maintain his Death Eater persona around her. He was panicked that Hooch would tell Minerva or Poppy and worried that other people, too, might begin to see through the charade.

Severus heard the bickering of the Carrows before they were visible.

"Classes! NOW!" he ordered and was instantly rewarded by a scraping back of chairs and the familiar noises of a room full of dismissed students. Spinning on his heel, Severus strode out into the Entrance Hall where he took Alecto and Amycus by their collars and propelled them up towards his office.

They moaned the entire way, but he ignored them, releasing them unceremoniously in front of his desk. Severus took a seat. "So? What happened?" he demanded.

"He got away," replied Amycus sulkily.

"He made it into the Come-and-Go room," added Alecto. "An' we couldn't follow."

Severus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Thank you very much, Mr Longbottom.

"Well, then," he replied. "It's just a matter of time. He can't stay in there forever, and he'll need to eat eventually. I'll go now and set up wards to let us know if he leaves. You two, on the other hand, have classes to teach. You don't want to be late."

This job, he reflected as the Carrows trouped out, gets more difficult every day.

Just after lunchtime, a second owl arrived...this one had flown from Bulgaria, and bore only a silver button and a scrap of paper, marked "Ledeno ezero."

Longbottom's retreat into hiding marked the beginning of a new, and particularly dangerous, phase of Dumbledore's Army's guerrilla tactics. It also, surprisingly, marked a new chapter in Severus' relationship with Draco. The boy turned up that same evening, knocking on Severus' door not long after dinner was over. When he came in, he looked anxious.

"Draco, what can I do for you?"

"I, er,"...Draco's eyes flickered up towards the portrait of Dumbledore, who was feigning sleep, and back down towards Severus..."I wanted to talk to you."

"Come," replied Severus, getting to his feet and opening the door to his private rooms. He gestured Draco through. After a moment's hesitation, he Summoned the bottle of Firewhisky and took it with him.

The headmaster's private chambers were located up a narrow flight of stairs. A private sitting room...mercifully free of portraiture...occupied the space directly above the office; a bedroom and bathroom were located one floor above that.

"Have a seat, Draco," instructed Severus, gesturing towards the nearest armchair with a jerk of his head. He poured them each a generous slug of the smoky, amber liqueur and settled himself in the seat opposite. He waited for Draco to speak.

"Severus, sir," Draco trailed off a little awkwardly.

The mismatched form of address was oddly endearing, but Severus said nothing, merely raising one eyebrow and sipping his drink.

"Sir," Draco began once again, "I don't know what to do."

"If you want my advice, Draco, you'll have to be more specific."

Draco took several deep breaths. "I keep thinking about what you said to me the night that . . . the night that we were in your living room and I was healing your back." He ran one hand back through his floppy, pale blond fringe.

"Ah, yes." The boy's anxieties were painfully apparent. "I promised to take care of you Draco, and I meant it."

"I believe you," he responded quickly. "I really do. Honestly, I can't work out what you truly think about anything else, but I do believe that you have my best interests at heart."

"Slytherins look out for their own."

The familiar words worked in the expected way, and some of the tension seemed to slide out of Draco's shoulders. He took another mouthful of his drink. "Certainly no-one else seems to care about them," he replied.

Severus grimaced. Draco had hit the nail on the head. He had aptly articulated the main reason why so many Slytherins had landed on the wrong side of this ideological battlefield...that and pure-blood rhetoric, of course, but deep down, for Voldemort, the idea of pure-blood supremacy was nothing more than a rallying cry and a justification for patricide.

"Being a Death Eater doesn't suit me. You said it, and . . . and Granger said it. I don't want to kill people," said Draco heavily. "I don't want to watch people being killed. I don't even want to watch them being hurt." He swirled his Firewhisky in his glass and swallowed down another mouthful. "Sometimes," he confessed without looking at Severus, "when I was home over the holidays, I would be sent down to the cellar to Crucio the prisoners by myself. I just couldn't do it. I made the girl . . . Luna . . . I made her scream, but I didn't actually hurt her. It's awful, knowing what you can do to someone, how much you can hurt them, but they can't fight back."

Draco was leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, and his head hung down so that his face was hidden. Severus was fairly certain that the boy was crying. Talking, however, seemed to help, and Severus let him continue without interruption.

"When they caught Potter and Granger and Weasley, though, that was the worst. I tried!" Draco broke off to rub at his face. "I tried to convince my father that it wasn't them, and then I tried to get them to stop torturing Granger...I told them that you wouldn't like it." He was openly sobbing now; his shoulders were shaking and his words became less intelligible. "I just . . . couldn't . . . And then Jocelyn . . . I was so worried!" Drawing a deep, shaky breath, he appeared to pull himself together somewhat. "What should I do?" he asked.

"First," remarked Severus dryly, "you should dry your tears and calm down." He passed Draco a handkerchief and gave the boy a couple of moments to compose himself.

"You realise, don't you, that if you switch allegiances, the rest of your family will suffer?" asked Severus, his voice deliberately neutral.

Draco gulped and stared at Severus, his grey eyes wide. "I..." he began, but Severus cut him off with one raised hand.

"It's possible that I could spirit Jocelyn away. As long as school is in session, the Dark Lord is unlikely to notice her disappearance. You, however, are marked. Your parents would be punished." Severus catalogued Draco's responses through slightly narrowed eyes.

"Save Jocelyn," replied the young man quickly. "Please."

"It will depend on you, to a large extent," replied Severus. "You will need to write home and maintain the fiction that she's still at school."

Draco nodded determinedly. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, sir."

"Drink your Firewhisky," replied Severus.

Obediently, the boy drank; the glass clattered slightly against his teeth.

"Draco," said Severus, leaning forward slightly in his chair and looking the Malfoy heir directly in the face. "I will do my best to protect you, and I will do my best to protect Jocelyn. As I will for every other student."

Draco nodded once again. "That's what you've always done, isn't it, sir? All of those lectures in Slytherin house about making our decisions for ourselves and not blindly following others."

It was Severus' turn to nod. Relieved as he was that Draco was reading the unvoiced elements of the conversation, Severus felt the heavy weight of failure in his gut. How many of the Slytherin students had learnt the lesson he was trying to teach? How much more successful might he have been had he taken a different approach?

"I will do what I can to help," promised Draco. He sounded calmer. "Thank you."

Severus nodded once more. He stood and ushered Draco down the stairs and then out through the office door and onto the moving staircase.

"Goodnight, sir," called Draco as the stairs ground into motion. "Thank you!"

"Goodnight, Draco." Severus shut the door and waited, without turning, for the interrogation that he knew to be imminent.

"Severus?" inquired Albus, right on cue.

Severus turned towards the portrait and considered it for a long moment, his lips pursed. "I promised to protect Draco," he remarked a little belligerently. "The boy very much regrets his decision to join the Death Eaters. If I don't make it out of this mess alive, Albus, I'm entrusting you with the responsibility of saving him."

With those words, Severus strode back across the room and up through his staircase to the next floor. He poured himself another drink.

The next morning, Severus took Jocelyn aside for a word after breakfast. Opening the nearest door, he beckoned her into an abandoned classroom and locked, warded and Silenced the door behind them. It took him only a couple of minutes to explain the purpose of the Portkey, the existence of the Bulgarian school and what she could expect from Vector and Krum.

Severus had sat her down in one of the desks while he spoke, and once he was done she stared down at the Portkey in her hand for a long moment, an odd, strained expression on her face.

"I didn't tell Draco," she said at last, giving him a miserable glance.

"What didn't you tell Draco?" he asked at once, his voice neutral but all his senses on high alert.

"He wanted to know what side I thought you were on, but I didn't tell him!" A tear slipped from one eye and slid down her cheek, leaving a shiny trail behind. "Please don't send me away!"

Reaching down, Severus took hold of her chin and looked her directly in the eye.

"Do you have kids, Professor Snape?"

"And what side do you think I'm on, young lady?" he asked in a cold, imperious tone.

Jocelyn took a shuddering breath; her lower lip trembled. "I think you're on the side that protects people," she ventured. "Not the side that hurts them."

"Jocelyn," he said urgently, "I am sending you to Bulgaria for your own safety. I should have done it long ago."

"But when will I see you again?"

"Soon," he lied. Things were so tenuous at Hogwarts these days that he didn't doubt he would lose it completely at some point. Both Minerva and Amycus Carrow were a hairsbreadth from murdering him in frustration, and the Dark Lord was, as ever, a perilous employer.

"Once this is over, you'll come and get me?" Jocelyn stared up at him with the same wide-eyed trusting and utterly irrefutable gaze Granger had perfected. Severus found himself nodding his agreement. "All right, then," said Jocelyn firmly as she clenched her hand around the thin disc of silver metal. "Say goodbye to Draco for me." When he nodded, she pursed her lips slightly. "Activate the Portkey," she instructed.

Severus let go of her chin and stood up straight. "Ledeno ezero," he said.

Squinting through the flash of blue light, he watched Jocelyn spin away.

Not long after sunset on the first of May, Severus sat once more in the Great Hall, watching the students dribble in for their evening meal. Their number had shrunk even further now that most of Dumbledore's Army was living in the Room of Requirement, and not for the first time, Severus wondered what the poor buggers were eating. Amycus Carrow...unexpectedly...had had the foresight to forbid the Hogwarts house-elves from supplying the delinquents with food.

On this particular evening, the students were more unsettled than usual. Wild rumours had been flying around all day suggesting Potter had broken into Gringotts and escaped on a dragon. Severus sighed. The story was outrageously Gryffindor enough that it might even be true. Alecto, who seemed to think she was single-handedly capable of squashing the rumours, had set herself to patrolling the dining hall and was stalking up and down the aisles. A little puddle of silence followed her path: at her approach, students fell quiet, and as she waddled away, the whispers sprung up once more.

The last of the students were making their way to their dinner places, including, Severus noted with surprise, Terry Boot. The boy had disappeared several days earlier, thus presumably demonstrating his loyalty to Longbottom's ragtag group of vigilantes. He'd cleaned up his appearance tonight and was strolling towards the Ravenclaw table as if he hadn't a care in the world.

A quick glance at Alecto was enough to make certain that she hadn't yet spotted the intruder, another glance the length of the table told a slightly different story. Minerva had her wand flush against the table, but clearly in her hand, and her eyes flickered from Alecto to Boot and back.

Can I use Minerva to my advantage? he wondered.

Boot slid into his seat at the Ravenclaw table and pulled a plate of food towards him. His appearance had sent a ripple of anticipation through the student body. Even at the Slytherin table, the sense of expectation was palpable. When Pansy Parkinson nudged Gregory Goyle, Severus couldn't hold back a grimace. He tasted the metallic tang of disappointment across the back of his mouth. His Slytherins were about to betray him once again.

Goyle squinted across the room at Boot. Seconds later, he was looking around for Alecto.

"Hey, Professor Carrow!" he called out.

Boot realised the game was up immediately, and as Alecto turned away towards the Slytherin table, he leapt to his feet and clambered up onto his seat.

"POTTER BROKE INTO GRINGOTTS AND ESCAPED ON A DRAGON!" he bellowed.

Pandemonium broke out. Minerva's shield charm blocked the savage hex Alecto aimed at Boot, but a Cutting Curse fired off by Amycus missed its target completely and sliced into Mandy Brocklehurst, who began to wail pitifully.

"Enough!" shouted Severus over the crowd. For good measure, he knocked away Minerva's shielding charm and immobilised Boot; that should keep the Carrows from an extended assault. "Miss Li," he ordered, "take Miss Brocklehurst to the Hospital Wing immediately." He didn't turn around, but he heard Poppy get up from the table behind him and hurry out the staff exit. "In future," he continued, addressing the entire room, "there will be no unauthorised magic during mealtimes...and that goes for all members of the Hogwarts community. Do I make myself clear?"

As he spoke, Alecto approached the stationary figure of Terry Boot.

"Perfectly, Severus," she snarled, lifting a large goblet from the table and hefting it in one hand. "No unauthorised magic!" she shrieked as she swung the goblet, spilling pumpkin juice in a splash of orange. As it impacted with Boot's cheek, it made a nasty thunk, and the boy toppled to the floor. In his magically-restrained state, the boy was unable to defend himself.

"No!" shrieked Minerva.

As Severus practically flew towards the commotion, he noticed, with relief, that Hooch had restrained Minerva. He hoped, for his own sake, that she also had an eye on Filius.

Alecto had swung her arm back to strike at the poor boy once more, but Severus hit the goblet with a Flagrante Curse, and she dropped it with a howl of pain, clutching at her injured hand. Once he was close enough, Severus grabbed a handful of her robes and pulled her to him. Lowering his head, he muttered in her ear.

"I never want to see you use Muggle discipline, ever again. Do I make myself clear?"

Alecto nodded, and he pushed her away. With his wand, he levitated Boot back up and onto his feet.

"Severus." It was Amycus who spoke. The male Carrow had followed him down from the High Table. "We still need to discipline the boy somehow."

"Not in the Great Hall, you don't," he snapped back.

"Fine, I'll take him to our office."

"No," replied Severus, glancing around. "We can't afford your absence...who would keep control here?" Even Amycus wasn't stupid enough to miss the sarcasm of that statement. "I'll send him to my office with a student and deal with him myself after dinner. You can make yourself useful and heal Alecto's hand."

Scanning the table of Slytherin students, Severus' eye fell first on Draco. The boy nodded minutely, signalling his willingness, but Severus shook his head slightly and turned to the next seat along. Undoubtedly, there were several members of Dumbledore's so-called Army stationed outside, ready to bust their comrade free. Draco didn't deserve that, but Gregory Goyle did.

"Mr Goyle, Mr Crabbe, take Mr Boot here to my office. Then return." The two buffoons lumbered to their feet. With a hand on each of Boot's biceps, they lifted him easily and shuffled away.

"Eat your dinner," snarled Severus at the watching students as he strode back to the High Table. Taking the stairs by the Slytherin table, he walked past several of his fellow teachers on the way to Dumbledore's ridiculous chair. Filius, he noted grimly, had his tiny hands fisted in his napkin and was muttering high-pitched imprecations under his breath.

About time you showed some concern for your students, Severus thought rather bitterly as he lowered himself into his chair. "Buon appetito," he remarked to the table as a whole, infusing the phrase with as much sarcasm as possible. Spreading his own napkin over his lap, Severus began to eat.

Less than fifteen minutes later, an unexpected discomfort in his Dark Mark informed Severus that the Dark Lord was deeply upset. Clearly Amycus, Alecto and Draco had noticed it, too. The Carrows were fidgeting in their seats, and Draco sat unnaturally still. His eyes sought out Severus. Severus blinked back and looked away, concentrating on his meal.

One part of Severus' mind raced with possible scenarios for the Dark Lord's current displeasure; Voldemort hadn't summoned his servants from Hogwarts, however, which meant that they might be lucky enough to avoid any of the most immediate repercussions. The other part dwelt on Draco.

The meal was almost over, and a number of students had already left the Great Hall when a lone eagle owl flapped in through the mail slot and glided the length of the room. As it dropped down towards the High Table, it caught the attention of most of those present, and any number of silent eyes watched it land in the empty space in front of Severus' plate. Plucking a grape from the bunch he had been consuming, Severus offered it to the Malfoy owl and unfastened his letter quickly. With the scroll in one hand, he stood, glancing over at Draco. In the time it would have taken to blink once, Severus pushed forward a clear image of his office, then he turned and left via the staff exit. The Carrows followed him immediately.

"Severus?" called Alecto from the antechamber full of portraits as Severus disappeared through the far door.

He spun back towards her before he replied. "My office, Alecto, and not before."

It took only a few minutes to reach the headmaster's office, and Draco was not far behind them. Severus conjured the boy a chair, to Amycus' visible annoyance. Alecto had taken the one that normally sat before the desk, leaving her brother on his feet. Growling irritably, Amycus finally conjured himself something on which to sit...a rather misshapen lump that only a generous soul might label "furniture." Severus sneered.

"Get orn with it, Severus, open the letter," instructed Alecto.

Severus sighed and did as she had asked. Once again, the letter was from Lucius.

Dear Severus,

Lucius.

Relief and tension warred for supremacy on Draco's face. The last line made it clear that neither Lucius or Narcissa had been irreparably injured by the Dark Lord's displeasure, but the content of the message was far from reassuring.

"Very well," said Severus. "Alecto and Amycus, I shall leave supervision of the Ravenclaw common room in your capable hands. Draco, return to Slytherin House. I suggest that you check up on Mr Goyle and Mr Crabbe on the way. All of you, look out for anything unusual, and keep me informed."

"But wot are you gonna do?" asked Amycus.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I intend to pay careful attention to the wards in the hope of catching that reprobate Potter the instant he sets foot on Hogwarts territory."

"Oh, right."

Severus stood up and held open the door to hurry his visitors from his office. Once they were gone, he closed the door.

"Be careful, Severus," remarked Albus' portrait unnecessarily. "You're treading on dangerous ground."