Change of Plans - Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Potterverse, it belongs to JKR. I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter 21: Change of Plans (Part 2)

It had been a tense week at the cottage. The suspicious elves, although not openly hostile, refused to acknowledge Hermione at all, consulting Snape, 'the master,' in all things. In addition, both Snape and Hermione were cautious and a touch hesitant with one another.

It was during Friday's lunch that a letter arrived by owl post, bringing an actual smile to Snape's face. Hermione's eyes brightened at his change of expression. "What is it, Severus?"

"Good news," he retorted. "The alternative I promised you." He dropped his voice. "In the morning, you and I will be leaving this place."

"To where?"

"I would rather not say yet." He glanced briefly at the house-elf and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "We won't be returning here. I am taking you to a place where we will both be safe from the Dark Lord."

"We're leaving the country?" she asked in a whisper, dismayed by the idea of leaving everyone and everything she knew behind.

"It's the only way I can keep you, and myself, safe."

After a few moments thought, she nodded. Exile is better than certain death, she supposed. After all, if Harry defeats Voldemort, I'll be able to come back.

Later that afternoon, Hermione and Snape were working in the lab when they heard a commotion downstairs. The piercing squeal and shrill laughter of a house-elf, answered by a suave, male voice could just be discerned. Raising an eyebrow speculatively, Snape went to see who had arrived.

Hermione followed cautiously; Severus had not said to stay put, but she knew it was wise to be wary of any person the elves seemed happy to see. Her fears proved correct. There, standing in the center of the sitting room was Lucius Malfoy, as arrogant and threatening as ever. She froze near the top of the steps, reluctant to draw his attention.

"Lucius." Snape greeted the blond man curtly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Snape in casual dismissal as he perused the room. "In case you have forgotten, Severus, this is my property," he stated smoothly. "Perhaps I am simply checking up on its maintenance and the welfare of my servants."

"Yes, of course," Snape countered. "I am sure your only concern is the wellbeing of 'those who serve.'"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed in anger for a second before he controlled his reaction. Snape's double meaning had not been lost on him. It had been a serious blow to his pride when, after his release from Azkaban, he had been demoted to a soldier. The Dark Lord had proclaimed before the entire circle that to regain his trust, the elder Malfoy must 'serve as his master saw fit.' "Where is she?" he asked abruptly.

"She?"

"Don't play games with me, Severus! You know I mean the Mudblood."

"Why should her whereabouts be any concern of yours?" Snape questioned.

"I am here on the Dark Lord's orders," Malfoy announced through gritted teeth. "You are to bring the Mudblood, along with your supply of the Impenetrable Potion, to headquarters immediately."

Snape stared inscrutably at Malfoy for a few seconds. "Of course. It shall be as the Dark Lord commands," he said silkily. "Now that you have discharged your duty as messenger, Lucius, you may leave. I will follow momentarily."

"I am to bring you and your prisoner with me," he snarled, enraged by both the reminder of his lowly status and Snape's attempt to dismiss him. "Get her and be quick about it! The Dark Lord is waiting!"

In spite of the gravity of the situation, Snape nearly smiled at Malfoy's discomfiture. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, he gloated to himself. However, when he spoke, no trace of emotion colored his voice. "I will be back with the girl in a minute, Lucius."

Whirling, he mounted the stairs as he rapidly reviewed his options. They were few. He could try to take out Malfoy before they reached headquarters and then flee with Hermione, but it was chancy. Malfoy was already agitated – there was no telling what he would do if he got the upper hand in a fight. If he incapacitated Malfoy and failed to report, all of the Dark Lord's followers would be after him almost immediately. His careful plans to disappear with Hermione would be for naught. The second option was to take her to Voldemort, as ordered, then wait for a more discrete opportunity to get them both away. It was obvious that something was going forward at headquarters, the summons alone indicated that. If the Dark Lord was ready to move against the Ministry, there would be many people coming and going, as well as final preparations for the long-awaited event. In short, there would be ample opportunities for escape by a resourceful wizard – which he knew himself to be.

"What's happening?" Hermione asked anxiously.

He told her of the Dark Lord's unwelcome directive. At her gasp of dismay, he hastened to reassure her. "Do not panic, Hermione. I intend to extract us as soon as it's humanly possible. Tonight, if the opportunity presents itself." She looked frightened but gave him a nod of acquiescence. "Get your cloak," he instructed. "Malfoy is waiting."

-----------------------------

For the past several days, ever since they had come out of the Pensieve, Ron's temper had been an extremely uncertain thing. His moods alternated between depressed and furious. When he was depressed, he moped around The Burrow in a despondent haze, barely acknowledging the other members of the household. When he was angry, the slightest thing could send him into a massive rant, which not even his mother could moderate. Given the choice, Harry preferred the latter option. At least Ron responded to him, even if it was at a decibel level capable of inducing permanent hearing loss.

Unfortunately, Ron was in depression mode today. In spite of the fact that most of the Order of the Phoenix would be coming to The Burrow later for the twins' birthday party, he refused to lighten up. Harry had learned to mostly ignore these black moods, and today, with all the party preparations going on, it was particularly easy.

"Harry, dear," Molly Weasley called, "could you manage to rearrange the sitting room chairs for tonight?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. How do you want them?"

"Just set the room up the way it was at Christmastime," she said absently, already turning back to the food preparations.

"Ron, could you give me hand?" Harry requested.

No response.

Harry sighed in defeat and set to work. As he was levitating one of the large, overstuffed armchairs into a cozy grouping near the window, he saw an owl winging determinedly toward the house. It was a big bird, with unusual markings on its wings. Something stirred in his memory. Where have I seen markings like that before? Letting curiosity get the better of him, he abandoned his task and opened the window to get a better look. Seeing the open window, the bird headed straight toward Harry, who backed away to let it enter.

Swooping through the window, the owl back-winged sharply to land on the back of the chair Harry had just moved. "Oi! That's a super-express post-owl!" Ron exclaimed in surprise, pointing out the colored stripes on the creature's wings. "Blimey, Harry, who'd send one of those to our house? Those are really expensive birds to rent!"

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" Harry replied, reaching for the letter pouch attached to the bird's leg. He drew out a plain white envelope with the words, 'The Chosen One,' printed clearly on the front. "It's for me," he said, ripping it open and scanning the contents rapidly. His eyes widened as he read, and when he met Ron's intent blue gaze, he looked frightened. "It's from Krum. Here, read for yourself." He thrust the piece of parchment at his friend.

Ron's eyes zoomed back and forth across the page, his agitation rising with every second. As soon as he'd finished, he handed the paper back to Harry. "Better keep that hidden. If my mum sees it, she won't let me out of her sight."

"What do you think we should do?" Harry asked.

"We have to Floo Remus right away," Ron decided. "Maybe Bill too."

"Then you think we should go? What if it's a trap?"

Ron shook his head in denial. "Not likely. Krum is on our side."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. You Floo Remus and get him to meet us in Hogsmeade. Give your mum some excuse. I'll get our cloaks and be right down."

Fifteen minutes later, they materialized outside of Honeydukes. Looking around, Ron spotted Remus pretending to window shop across the street. They made their way over to him, and together the three men set off for the Three Broomsticks.

Choosing a table well away from the other scattered patrons, Harry sat down, pulling the letter from a pocket and wordlessly offering it to the older man.

Remus unfolded the parchment and read it through.

1 April, 1998

Your One-Time Opponent.

Without preamble, Remus asked in a soft voice, "What does he mean 'his colors'?"

"We're not sure, but it could be one of two things," Ron answered. "It's either his old school colors, or his Quidditch team's colors."

"Hmm, you're probably right," Remus agreed. "Let's go over to the Hog's Head then."

Five minutes later, faces hidden in the shadow of deep hoods, they entered the dingy pub. Surprisingly, the generally quiet place had twice the custom of the Three Broomsticks. Harry scanned the room for any sign of Krum. Either blood-red for Durmstrang or a combination of green, white and red for Bulgaria, he reminded himself.

"There, by the wall." Ron tilted his head slightly to the left, indicating an old man sitting by himself. He had a tankard in front of him and a walking stick hooked over his thigh. On the arm of his grey cloak was a rectangular patch with horizontal bands of white, green and red: the Bulgarian flag. As they made their way between the tables, the old man looked up from his lager. With apparent difficulty he stood, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Good ter see ya!" he greeted them in a quavering voice. "Why don' we get us a private room fer our reunion?" He limped off to the bar, handing the barkeep a bit of gold as he leaned close to speak with him. Although the suspicious barman gave them all a hard glare and several gruff words, he eventually showed them upstairs. They entered what must have been a private dining room at some time, but now was simply a dilapidated room containing half a dozen rickety chairs. Once the door was firmly shut behind him, the old man pulled a wand from his cane and began casting silencing and anti-eavesdropping spells. When he turned back to face the others, he found a wand pointed directly at his chest.

"Reveal yourself!" Remus ordered.

The old man pointed his wand at himself. "Finite Incantatem!" he said. The charms dropped away from him, exposing the dark hair and heavy eyebrows of Viktor Krum. "Let's sit," he suggested.

"Where's Hermione? What kind of danger is she in?" Ron blurted.

"I vill tell you everything I know. Please, sit – all of you." He pulled the nearest chair toward him and gingerly sat. The others followed his example, and although the chairs seemed a bit shaky, none of them collapsed. Viktor began his tale at once. "The Dark Lord called all the squad leaders together this morning to plan a raid on the Ministry. They, in turn, haff ordered all the soldiers to assemble by seven tonight. The Dark Lord himself intends to lead the raid. He vill take most of the senior members of the circle as his personal bodyguard. Their objective is to steal a time-altering device."

"The Time-Turner!" Harry exclaimed.

"What does this have to do with Hermione?" Ron pressed.

"After the raid, the Dark Lord intends to lure you, Harry, into a trap using Herm-own-ninny. She vas to be brought to the Death Eater's headquarters this afternoon; perhaps she is already there. But, I know her vell – she vill not cooperate. I am certain the Dark Lord vill kill her."

"What do you want from us?" Remus asked shrewdly.

"I vant you to help me get her out of danger."

"How?" Remus persisted.

"Vhen the strike teams haff left for the raid, only a few people vill remain at headquarters. Most of the scouts and spies haff been deployed to the area around the Ministry of Magic. That vill be our best opportunity to rescue Herm-own-ninny."

"You seem to have this all planned out," Remus observed with grudging respect.

"Wait a minute," Harry interjected. "What about you? Why aren't you going on the raid?"

"I am not a soldier. I am a long-range scout and the Dark Lord's liaison with the Bulgarian wizards who support him."

"Oh," Harry said, chagrined at Krum's ready answer and a bit sorry for his suspicion. Viktor had never given them a reason to doubt him; in fact, he had been a great help so far. Putting his worries aside, he tried to focus on the mission before them. "Will the four of us be able to get her out of there? Should I contact the Order for reinforcements?"

"Actually, I think a small number of people vill have the best chance of getting into headquarters," Viktor said with assurance. "There vill only be a handful of the Dark Lord's followers there at that time. The four of us should be able to manage them." Looking directly at Harry he smiled. "You are a very powerful wizard, Harry Potter. And many of the younger Death Eaters fear you."

"They do?" Harry asked in amazement.

"So, what now?" Ron burst out impatiently.

"Now, ve vait," Viktor replied seriously.

-----------------------------

In the basement of the Riddle house, Snape paced the length of the magically-expanded space like a caged tiger: fifteen steps across, turn, fifteen steps back, turn. At some point since he had last seen it, the warren of small underground rooms had been turned into a combat training room. They had removed the flimsy walls that subdivided it and got rid of all the Muggle appliances and junk. His potions-bench and paraphernalia were intact, still in the same corner they had always occupied. Hermione sat huddled on the camp bed next to the bench. She looked terrified.

After his arrival this afternoon, the Dark Lord had informed him about the raid and given him his orders. He was to remain at headquarters with his prisoner. He smiled grimly, remembering his 'master's' words. "I cannot risk leaving the Mudblood with the soldiers that will be remaining to guard headquarters, Severus. They are young and untried. I need a wizard of your experience and abilities here." He had pretended dismay at being left out of the action, while in reality, he was elated. The Dark Lord and all but a few of the Death Eaters would be gone for at least an hour – plenty of time for him to dismantle the wards and Apparate to safety with Hermione. He had only to wait for the strike force to depart.

He continued his pacing: fifteen steps across, turn, fifteen steps back, turn. He heard a multitude of feet passing overhead, through the library, then the parlor, and finally, out the back door. They're leaving! Just a few more minutes.... His feet moved without thought: fifteen steps across, turn, fifteen steps back, turn.

All was quiet above. Snape walked to the foot of the stairs, cast an Amplification Charm, and listened intently to the guards' conversation upstairs. Satisfied that they had no intention of venturing to the basement, he began the laborious process of dismantling the Anti-Disapparation Jinx over the Riddle house.

For ten minutes, he struggled against the complex construct the Dark Lord had erected. Sweat ran down his brow, dampening his lank hair and causing it to stick to his face. Impatiently, he brushed it away. Nearly there! he thought triumphantly. There was only one anchoring node left to disable.

A sudden shout upstairs startled him, drawing his eyes to the steps. Heavy feet pounded across the floor of the library above. More shouts echoed, then a scream of pain and the crash of breaking furniture. The sounds of battle! he realized. "Hermione, take cover!" In his peripheral vision, he saw her scramble to the far side of the workbench. He took a defensive position between her and the foot of the steps.

The noises drew closer. They were fighting directly above him now, in the parlor. With a blast of light and sound, the basement door burst open. Three figures hurtled through the frame, plunging heedlessly down the steps. Lupin, Weasley, Potter, his brain registered in shock. How did they penetrate into the Dark Lord's sanctum? Just as he realized why they had come (for Hermione!), the trio perceived him.

Lupin was the first to fire off a hex. "Stu..."

But Snape cast a nonverbal trip jinx before the werewolf could pronounce the first syllable of his spell. Lupin fell, tumbling down the last few steps. A feat which, not incidentally, distracted his companions from their attack. "Insensabilius!" Snape shouted. Lupin hit the floor and lay still. Simultaneously, Weasley and Potter leaped the last few steps, landing on either side of the downed werewolf. It was a well-choreographed and effective maneuver, Snape noted automatically, rendering them difficult targets due to their speed and split positions. Clearly, they had been training for battle.

Potter stepped forward, shielding the others as he engaged Snape. The boy's wand moved in a blur as he cast one nonverbal hex after another. But Snape was just as fast, blocking each spell and sending a return hex whenever possible, which in turn, Potter blocked. It was a surreal exchange, silent except for their labored breathing and Weasley's muttered attempts to rouse the werewolf.

"He won't wake, Harry!" Weasley called desperately.

"What did you do to him?" Potter demanded angrily.

"Nothing permanent, unfortunately," Snape said nastily. "It's just a variation of the Stunning Spell."

"Ron? Harry?" Hermione called from the corner.

"Stay back, Hermione!" Snape warned. "Keep out of the line of fire." But it seemed she had no fear that her friends would injure her, intentionally or otherwise. He heard her rise and take a few steps toward him. He edged sideways until she was behind him. There's no telling how these twits reacted to the last set of memories the Dark Lord sent them. They may view her as a traitor.

Weasley was on his feet next to Potter, his concern for the werewolf apparently superseded by other factors when Hermione entered the fray. The youths were poised tensely, ready to spring, when a low hiss broke the silence, followed by the sound of something smoothly sliding across the floor.

"The snake!" Hermione screamed, startling the three men. All eyes jumped to the top of the steps where a gigantic serpent was slithering slowly through the doorway. A coil of its thick body hit the first step with a dull thump.

Potter turned his wand on the snake threateningly, hissing and spitting noises emerging from his throat like a stream of invective. The snake paused, flicking its tongue out to taste the air, then continued its inexorable descent.

"It's headed for Remus!" Weasley called.

"Shield spells," Potter directed. The two stepped around the Stunned man casting a dual shield to repel the monster.

Seizing his opportunity, Snape concentrated on the final node of the Anti-Disapparation shield, struggling to dismantle it while the others were distracted. Second by second, he felt the matrix of the node thin until it finally collapsed, its power dissipating. He gasped in relief, only peripherally aware of the ongoing struggle against the Dark Lord's familiar.

"Hold the shield, Ron, I'll Stun it!"

Potter directed a hex at the creature, only to have it rebound, forcing him to block. The snake was still on the stairs, but was gaining ground, pushing against their shield.

"Harry, this has to be Voldemort's pet snake. Can you do the spell without Remus?" Weasley asked desperately.

"No, I never learned it," Potter answered through gritted teeth. "There's got to be another way!"

Watching the struggle, Snape made a sudden decision. Two steps to the right gave him a clear view of the giant reptile. "Inverso molior," he intoned, whirling his wand rapidly counter-clockwise. Without a pause, he slashed his wand downward, shouting, "Confuto Phasma Phasmatis!" The snake was encased in a sparkling web, its forward motion halted. Raw magical power surged through the room, tingling down the nerves of every person present. Snape, his teeth bared in a feral grimace, jabbed his wand sharply at the immobile snake. "Sectumsempra!"

The creature was slammed backwards against the stair treads in a flash of light, its head split open from tip to base. Snape took a step back, his breathing shallow, but otherwise unaffected by the powerful forces he had directed. He was already on guard again.

As one, Potter and Weasley turned from the shattered remains of the snake to face him.

"That spell – you knew." Potter's gaze seemed to bore into the grim visage of the man before him. "How?"

Snape's eyes cut momentarily to Hermione, then back to his opponent in a wordless answer.

Potter scowled. "Whose... whose side are you really on?" he demanded.

Silence reigned for a full five seconds before Snape answered. "I am not altogether on anybody's side, because nobody is altogether on my side." He let Potter digest that for a moment then asked tersely, "Have you disposed of the others?"

Potter nodded.

"Then what are you waiting for, Potter? The Dark Lord and most of his followers are raiding the Ministry as we speak. You will never get a better opportunity to surprise him."

"We're not going anywhere without Hermione," Weasley stated flatly.

"Oh, but I am afraid you are, Weasley. You see, Hermione and I are leaving, and we won't be taking either of you along."

"Severus, please!" Hermione interjected. "I want to help Harry. We can both go to the Ministry with them."

"No! With your wand, you would be a sitting duck! It's too dangerous. As for me, I have no intention of going anywhere near the Dark Lord," Snape declared with finality. "I am sick of being a servant! I've been used by more powerful wizards for most of my life. I won't start serving Potter!" he spat. The sneer he directed at the dark-haired young man left no doubt as to his continued loathing for the son of his former nemesis. Keeping his wand at the ready before him, he extended his other hand back to Hermione. "Come, Hermione. It's time for us to leave."

"No!" Weasley yelled. "Stup..."

"Expelliarmus!" Snape shouted, executing a lightning-quick parry and riposte that effectively blocked and disarmed the younger man. In an instant, his wand was trained on Potter. "Don't even think about it," he warned. Not daring to take his eyes from his opponent, he let Weasley's wand sail over his left shoulder to clatter on the floor behind him.

Time seemed to stretch as seconds ticked past; none of the men moved a muscle. "Stalemate, Potter. You had best leave while you still have a chance at surprising the Dark Lord." Again, he reached his hand backwards. "Take my hand, Hermione. We're leaving these two to their folly."

A light, firm voice spoke from behind him. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Snape felt his arms and legs snap together as his entire body went rigid. Immobilized and unable to break his fall, he hit the basement floor with a resounding thump, landing hard on his right shoulder. The rap of feet approached. He knew what he would see before it entered his line of sight: Hermione's legs and feet.

She knelt in front of his motionless form. "I'm sorry, Severus," she said in a low, choked voice. "You probably won't understand, but I can't..." she broke off, sniffling, to swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. He heard footsteps approaching again. Two sets of legs appeared behind Hermione: Potter and Weasley.

Bending close to him, she whispered, "I don't want to leave you, but this is something I have to do." Reaching into his inner cloak pocket, she removed the vials containing the Impenetrable Potion and handed Weasley his wand. Tucking her own vine-wood wand into a back pocket, she eased Snape's mahogany one from his clenched hand.

"Incarcerous!" Thick cords shot from Potter's wand, binding him tightly. "That will hold him until the Aurors arrive."

"Come on, Hermione," Weasley urged. "We have to get to the Ministry."

"Go on upstairs," she replied, "I'll be there in a minute." Reluctantly, the young men started up the steps. Snape's lank, black hair had fallen across his cheek, concealing part of his face. Almost timidly, Hermione reached out a shaking hand and pushed it back. "I'm sorry, Severus," she apologized again, "but I can't let Voldemort win. I can't abandon everything I believe in just to secure my own happiness. That would be the ultimate Unforgivable." She leaned forward and placed a damp kiss on his cheek, then resolutely stood and followed her friends.

Snape lay immobile where they had left him as Hermione's tears ran down his rigid face.

******************************************************************************

Beta read by Wartcap. Thanks Warty!

Author's Notes:

1. The hex Insensibilious, is derived from insensible. It's a type of Stunning Spell (non-canon) that I made up. It's a bit nastier than Stupefy because the victim cannot be revived using Reenervate – they have to wake up on their own.

2. Nagini's 'abilities': Nagini is a wizard's familiar, and in canon, familiars seem to have a special affinity for their owners, to the point that some appear to understand what is said or intended (Fawkes and Crookshanks come to mind here). I assumed that Nagini would understand Harry's Parseltongue but would choose not to obey a wizard other than his owner. However, I did not intend to give the impression that Nagini has spell casting ability. The backlash that Harry experienced when he tried to Stun the snake is the result of protective spells (probably another Retaliation Hex) that Voldemort put on the animal to protect his Horcrux. When faced with the proper 'deconstruction' spell to dismantle the Horcrux, there was no retaliation.

3. Confuto Phasma Phasmatis: essentially the same spell as Suprimir Phasma Phasmatis (suppress spirit/soul) that Remus used against the other Horcruxes he helped destroy. Snape, being rather well-versed in the Dark Arts, knows more than one variation.

4. Another Lord of the Rings quote for the Tolkien aficionados. When Harry asks Snape which side he is really on, Snape answers, "I am not altogether on anybody's side, because nobody is altogether on my side." This is, in my opinion, Treebeard's best line. He says this to Merry and Pippin in The Two Towers (in the chapter that bears his name).

*Severus fans: Don't despair! It's not over yet!