Shadows

Disclaimer: Nothing is to be made from this effort. JKR owns it all.

AN: Thank you for your reviews. Destruction surely is a lot of fun. :-) Thanks to Ariadne, who enjoys blowing things up as much as I do.

"Severus..." Hermione said warningly, stepping forward. She had seen that look in his eye before. "You'd better go; she looked pretty angry."

Severus barely acknowledged her words by flicking his eyes towards her as he passed. The only sound was the two of them treading on broken glass and marble the size of gravel. Severus pointed out the front doors, watching Harry carefully pick his way down the ruined stairs and step over the remnants of the hourglasses to make his way outside, kicking emeralds and rubies out of the way as he walked.

Remus approached Severus at the door. With a glance at Harry descending the castle stairs, he said, "Severus, this isn't a good idea..."

Immediately, Remus flinched and stepped back, finding himself at the end of Severus' wand.

Severus growled, "Listen to me wolf, and listen closely. Potter needs to learn how to save the wizarding world – not how to pass a bloody OWL exam. My job is to teach him how to fight, and I will do so without your interference, understood? You can't possibly fathom what he will be up against."

Remus nodded, trying to diffuse the situation. Severus would often toss random insults his way. They were innocuous, meant to extract a little more penance each time. This, however, was different. This was real.

Leaning closer, Severus narrowed his eyes and snarled, "Cross me, Lupin, and I just may forget how to brew your potion." Gazing out into the night sky, he whispered with amusement, "Oh, dear, and the full moon is just about here."

Without awaiting a response, Severus swept outside.

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Harry and Severus stood on the castle lawn. The night wind had risen, blowing through their hair and rustling their robes around them. At times, Severus' hair obscured his vision and he developed a subconscious habit of tossing his head.

"Now there will be no interruptions, less to destroy, and no headmistress to call a halt when she fears for you."

Harry nodded quickly, wary that Snape would again go Death-Eater-mental on him and strike without warning.

"Remind you of anything?" Severus asked quietly.

Harry's eyes widened. Dueling with him on the grounds would recreate his flight after Dumbledore's murder.

"Yes," Harry said above the sound of the wind.

Severus' eyes took on a strange intensity. "Close your eyes."

When Harry regarded him with distrust, Severus sneered, "I can curse you just as easily if they're open."

As Harry complied, Severus moved around to stand directly behind him, saying, "Remember the rage you felt that night, Potter. That emotion, the feeling of power rising within you, driving the intensity of your magic to a higher plane. You need to channel that energy, hold it in check, waiting, focused. When it feels like it will completely overwhelm you, hold it a little more. Just as you learned to cast your first spell, you need to intensify that effort a thousand-fold. Revel in it, Potter."

Severus watched Harry's shoulders tense and wand hand flex.

Moving in front of Harry, Severus continued, "Now, imagine that the Dark Lord is in front of you. The Order has diverted the Death Eaters, and you and he are alone. Two mortals in a duel to the death."

Harry's face darkened. Even with his eyes closed, his tremendous hatred was evident, pinching his features, transforming his entire demeanor.

"You are there. It is that moment. All the preparation, all the anticipation, it is over, complete. The Dark Lord is all that lies between you and revenge, glory, the end."

Again, a contraction, tighter, more focused.

"This is war. There is no tomorrow. Focus all of that hatred. Force it into every spell, every block, every fight of the Imperius."

Severus stepped back several feet and took off his outer robes, tossing them to the ground. "Now, open your eyes."

Harry opened his eyes, immediately prepared to fight.

"Oh, and Potter? Think more hateful thoughts than that at me if you do choose to cast something more powerful than a tickling charm. I want to feel something," Severus taunted.

Harry's eyes blazed. Gritting his teeth, he teased, "Aren't you afraid Hermione is going to disapprove?"

Severus' eyes widened, his face white with rage.

Harry had no time to move – Severus lunged forward and slashed at the air sideways, opening a gash on Harry's arm. Harry spun and stumbled, scrambling to get to his feet and run at the same time. Another bolt struck the ground where his right foot had just been, tearing the grass apart to leave nothing but a burnt hole. Harry flung his hands out in front of him to catch his fall, only to snatch them back when the ground in front of him flashed in a stripe of fire. He rolled onto his shoulder through the flames, this time managing to get to his feet and turn to face Severus. That same crazed look was in Severus' eyes, only it was the type of insanity which retained a flicker of intelligence.

Harry thought that was the worst kind of all.

Harry cast to disarm but was blocked; he ducked in time to feel his rebounded spell rush past his head on its way to spin out into the darkness. A movement wove through the trees. Just a shadow.

"Got any more smart comments, Potter?" Severus snarled, crouching low as he advanced on Harry. His lurching gait gave him an even more dangerous look that matched the anger on his face.

Harry was backing down the castle lawn, trying to hold his wand steady as the blood soaked through his robes. Taking a deep breath, he launched himself forward, silently throwing a barrage of spells.

Snarling, Severus blocked all of them in explosions of light, stretching both of their shadows out onto the grass for flashpoints in time. Harry stumbled backwards, unable to focus his eyes from staring into red lightning. He arced his wand arm from side to side, casting in any direction he could, hoping he could block at the right moment. Harry fell onto his back and dug his heels into the soft grass, pistoning his legs, trying to rise while blocking a relentless stream of hexes and curses. Severus seemed to take pleasure in waiting for Harry to try to get up, only to force him to writhe on the ground, struggling to protect himself. Harry frantically shoved himself backwards until he felt Hagrid's fence against his back. He reached to pull himself up, only to have the wood explode out of his hand in a thousand shards, raining back down around him. The fence was alight now, flames racing along the rails like liquid light. Harry rolled under the remaining fence in time to avoid a bolt which blew an entire section upwards in a hail of charred wood. It lit the night sky with flying torches, traveling for a time on the wind before landing in patches on the ground where they continued to burn.

Harry scrambled to his feet and turned to see a red light hurtling towards him. He threw himself onto the ground in time to see the bolt fly out towards Hagrid's hut. It shot through a window, leaving a perfect hole to emerge on the other side of the structure, glanced off the back fence and into the forest.

A blinding light eclipsed Harry's world as he was struck and slammed backwards to the ground.

A slow laugh, drawing closer.

Harry struggled to sit up. His eyes were drawn to the woods. A movement on the ground.

Severus ignored his leg's protest and bent down, took a handful of Harry's hair and twisted it, drawing his face closer. He snarled viciously, "Don't ever try to best me in a verbal battle of wits. You – will – not – win."

Releasing the spell, Severus backed up and yelled, "Get up! NOW!"

Harry took time to rise and saw an opportunity. When Severus moved to attack him again, he swung his wand, slashing at Severus' good leg. Severus fell to his knees, hissing in pain, but thrust himself to his feet on pure adrenaline. Ignoring the blood and loss of coordination, he lunged at Harry, casting the Imperius Curse.

Immediately, he felt a raging flood of magic blocking him, shoving him out. Severus had no time to utter a command before the spell became useless. It felt like a wall was thrust in front of him, blocking any attempt. Severus could touch Harry's thoughts, but could not push to take control.

Lifting the curse, he muttered, "Excellent."

Barely standing, Severus hurled another combination of spells at Harry, watching with satisfaction as he blocked them all. They spun out in all directions, with one blasting straight through Hagrid's various vegetables in his makeshift field. They both flinched when Hagrid's chimney exploded in a torrent of bricks which tumbled down his roof to splash into a barrel of water. The wild array of light threw chaotic shadows across the trees.

Severus turned to Harry, held his wand out as he raised his arms, watching as Harry seemed to tense every muscle at once.

"Do it, Potter."

Harry went to disarm, but was blocked before the spell even left his wand.

"No! More! You're not even trying to do this!" Severus roared. He held his arms outstretched and walked directly at Harry, mouthing a specific spell's incantation to him, his eyes wide.

Harry backed up, shaking his head. Snape was forcing it into his thoughts, chanting.

"You have to, Potter! NOW!"

Hesitating, Harry held his wand out. He was stunned beyond all comprehension when Severus made a show of dropping his wand to softly fall to the grass.

Severus leveled a gaze of hatred on Harry, striding towards him. He still held his arms out, palms up, displaying that he was unarmed, enraged that Harry still had not acted.

Close enough to touch Harry's wand, Severus threw his head back, yelling to the night sky, "Vow or Debt, it doesn't matter! I'd do it again!"

Harry recoiled as if struck, stumbling back, his face contorted with wrath. His entire body contracted, focused, the level of magic shot to an astronomical level, spiraling upwards before he caught hold of it. He was unable to hold it any longer; tremendous outrage flooded his senses, taking control.

"CRUCIO!"

The pain in both of Severus' legs faded in comparison to the world of intense agony he felt. Somewhere, he heard someone screaming and realized dimly that it must be him. Severus heard Potter mutter a distracted, "Finite Incantatem," and release the curse.

Harry stood, thunderstruck at what he had done.

Severus rolled onto his back breathing hard. Between breaths he said, "Better, Potter, that's exactly what I wanted. You need to be able to channel that rage to be successful against him."

"You lied to provoke me," Harry said distractedly. He was looking at his wand strangely as if it were now foreign, tainted.

Severus nodded. "Would you have done it, otherwise?"

"No, I..."

Severus twisted, summoned his wand and motioned for Harry to get down. He could feel the ground vibrate under him rhythmically, pounding, growing stronger. Severus rose up onto his elbows and looked towards the trees past Hagrid's hut. A sweeping sound accompanied the pounding, matching the vibration under his hands. Vibration and sound merged in a three beat pattern in rapid succession.

Just as Severus recognized where he had heard these sounds before, he saw a shadow taking shape.

"Not again..."

Buckbeak was charging across the castle grounds towards them.

Severus could only watch as the great beast charged across the grounds with its head lowered, its sharp beak snapping open and closed in time with its rolling gallop. His memory flashed back to that night, trying to run and keep from giving the raging Hippogriff the opportunity to tear his throat out. He knew he had no chance of running now. The best he could hope for was to get to the nearest cover – which happened to be Hagrid's wretched little vegetable patch. Knowing there was no hope for dignity, Severus scrambled behind the nearest overgrown pumpkin. He could see Buckbeak drawing closer, orange eyes coming into focus in the moonlight. The Hippogriff charged through the patch, smashing vegetables and tearing vines out of the ground. He passed close enough to land a hoof only inches from where Severus laid and brush his wings over his back. Severus watched as Buckbeak slid to a stop, reared up as he angled left, and began a second charge. This time, Buckbeak's eyes were directly trained on Severus'. He was not going to miss this time.

Severus raised his wand, aiming to kill, but to his utter amazement, Harry jumped up and threw himself in Buckbeak's path, stretching his arms out as a shield.

"BUCKBEAK, NO!"

As Buckbeak drew closer, Severus could only watch and hope that the wretched thing recognized Potter. Suddenly in mid-stride, a flash of intelligence crossed its eyes. Buckbeak made to stop, swinging its great wings forward for balance and setting his hindquarters down. In an almost comical slide, he came to a halt directly in front of Harry. Regaining his composure, Buckbeak stared at the young wizard, cocking his head sideways in question. He clicked his beak as if processing information.

"Hey there, old pal," Harry said soothingly, while panting for air. "Haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing?" Harry said cautiously while keeping his distance. Harry then tentatively bowed, keeping his eyes on Buckbeak. A long pause stretched out as the Hippogriff regarded Harry with his head tilted and intelligent eyes gleaming. He was breathing hard from galloping through the forest, weaving in and out of the trees while following the duel across the grounds.

Slowly, Buckbeak lowered his head in a regal bow, as if to say, "I'm just fine, fancy a bit of tea?"

Buckbeak then looked directly at Severus.

Harry calmed the Hippogriff, saying, "It's okay, boy." Then, glancing at Severus, Harry stated, "He's on our side. A friend."

Severus looked at Harry with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief.

"Sir, you can get up now," Harry said quietly, without taking his eyes off of Buckbeak.

With great effort, Severus got to his feet, attempting to remove as much of the pumpkin remains from his hair and clothes as possible. The leg wound was bleeding, but not badly; however, that was the leg he was favoring.

He looked over to where Harry was petting Buckbeak's head. "Going to keep him in the castle, are you?"

Harry chuckled and said, "Think McGonagall would let me?"

"Certainly. After she's done tearing into me for this, she'll probably want to feed me to him," Severus said, waving his hand at Buckbeak.

"Think you can walk, sir?" Harry asked.

"I've been worse. Get rid of the feather duster," he sneered, glancing sideways at the great beast. Buckbeak made a sudden move, then clicked his beak in satisfaction when Severus flinched.

"Sir? That was..." Harry started, unable to find the words.

Severus pulled another rind out of his collar. "Spit it out, Potter. I'm bleeding here."

"It's just that – when I cast the Cruciatus Curse, it felt terrible."

Severus looked at him patiently and said, "Casting an Unforgivable correctly requires a tremendous amount of magical energy and, yes, for this curse you do need to hate your target. It is the same energy you will require to cast the Killing Curse. That is why I needed to test you. It certainly would be tragic for you to fail at the pivotal moment."

Severus scowled at the fact that the Hippogriff seemed to be listening to the conversation.

Harry nodded as he caressed Buckbeak's chest. The animal who, only moments earlier, had had every intention of tearing Severus apart, closed his eyes happily.

A thought crossed Harry's mind, and he asked, "Sir, do you think?" He looked at Buckbeak and then to Severus.

"No, Potter. There is no way you're showing up at the final battle on that winged monstrosity," Severus said, starting to stagger his way back up towards the castle and trying hard not to groan with every step.

Severus glanced back to see Harry patting Buckbeak on the head, saying his goodbyes.

Harry caught up to Severus, wanting to say something significant. "I know there's no other way, but I can't help feeling both better and worse at knowing I can."

"It is not the magic, but the intention, Potter. Even the most mundane of hexes, spells, or charms can be used in the name of cruelty. I find it interesting that causing someone great pain for just a short time earns a sentence in Azkaban, while seven years of methodical torment is considered acceptable, even admirable."

Harry knew exactly what Snape meant and had no defense to offer.

"Remember this. You will only utilize this knowledge once, while others have built their entire existence around it," Severus said without looking at Harry.

"Thank you, sir."

"It is I who should thank you for deflecting that – thing," he said quickly, shooing him with his hands, knowing full well that yet another Potter had saved his life.

As they drew closer to the castle, Severus heard his name being called by Minerva, her outline in the entryway with warm light behind her. The ruins of the Entrance Hall littered the grass outside the doors, which were hanging on to their frames by twisted bolts.

Hermione stood next to Minerva, her arms crossed. Her anger faded when she saw him approaching with bits of what looked like pumpkin scattered all over his clothes and hair. Hermione tried her best to avoid laughing, but couldn't prevent a snort from escaping.

"Just what in the world do you think you're doing? As I recall, I ordered you to come to my office after this fiasco, and yet you go outside on the castle grounds?" Minerva yelled. "Severus, what do you have to say for yourself?"

He was barely able to keep standing; neither of his legs would cooperate enough to hold him up. He glanced over at Hermione, who was still standing with her eyes narrowed, staring at him. He could tell though that her anger did not reach her eyes.

"Severus, really!"

"Minerva, we've had this discussion before, have we not? Potter's training requires the utmost realism. You wanted him to learn exactly what it's like to fight, and I am providing that service – quite nicely I might add. You'll be pleased to know that he did, in fact, best me this time," Severus said, with a slight bow to Harry.

Minerva and Hermione both looked impressed and looked to Harry, who only shrugged.

Brushing a bit of rind off Severus' shoulder, Minerva asked, "And this?"

Harry said sheepishly, "That would be Buckbeak." Harry then shared the story, while Severus stood scowling.

Minerva laughed as she said, "Oh my. The mighty Severus, reduced to crawling through a pumpkin patch to escape his new arch-enemy?"

Severus only glared and did his best to stalk away, dragging his robes behind him and taking time to give the last remnants of the Gryffindor hourglass a good kick.

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Hermione set down a breakfast tray as she entered the rooms. Madam Pomfrey had healed the slash on Severus' good leg easily enough, but warned that the other needed rest. She had asked Hermione to keep him in bed the next day, then blushed furiously at the implications of her statement. Hermione had the good grace to let it go, pat the flustered witch on the shoulder, smile, and walk away.

She was on her way to the bedroom when she saw it. A crack in the wall, the bookcase looked as though it was there, but there was a haze and an opening, just enough to cast doubt. It faded and the door reappeared, brightening for a time, then solidifying back into the bookcase, an innocent piece of furniture.

Tilting her head, Hermione tried to determine exactly what she was seeing. Was the concealment spell failing? Or being broken?

Again, a faltering. The sun brightened, casting a beam of light across the bookcase. When Hermione's eyes focused again, the door was plainly visible, and open.

An idea immediately came to her – the Horcruxes. The locket that they suspected was either still at number twelve, Grimmauld Place or stolen by Mundungus was protected by some sort of Dark Magic. As always, the need for knowledge would harass her until satisfied. If she could do some research, she knew it could help Harry. Looking at one book wouldn't hurt anything.

Drawing her wand, Hermione stood in the doorway, knowing she was wrong. She chewed her lip and looked back at the bedroom door, certain that Severus would be completely furious if he knew. Another voice said it wouldn't hurt to just look, if she propped the door open to be safe. Keep to the brightest portion of the library. She dragged a chair to the doorway and propped it under the knob, shaking it a little to ensure a tight fit.

The heaviness to the air in the room had not changed for the better since the last time. A low, timeless scent hung in the air, dragging the atmosphere to a level at which it seemed cheerful thoughts were not allowed. Not here. The books seemed to be dormant. Hermione stood for a time, one foot outside the doorway, ready to flee if anything strange occurred.

Minutes passed – and nothing.

Relaxing a fraction, she lit her wand, illuminating the dust suspended in the air, flowing on its own currents. With her senses heightened, she noticed everything. All of the shelves had chains across the books, holding them in place. At the end of each chain was a fastener where the final link was held with the remaining length hanging free, indicating where to pull. Hermione noticed that some of the chains were swinging slightly. Her logical mind told her it was just the air, resolutely ignoring the fact that some were picking up speed. The darkness further inside was deep, absolute, alive.

A sense of dread came over her as if the books were watching her, sizing her up as a worthy opponent. Seeing nothing too unusual, she leaned further into the room, trying to read some of the titles from the safety of the doorway. She couldn't shake the image of them straining against the chains, pushing to get out, obeying only when Severus threatened them in both English and a horrid sounding language she didn't want to understand.

Without thinking, she had stepped over the threshold. Telling herself she would only look at the titles, the first bookshelf, it's in the sun after all. Hermione tilted her head to read the titles, but there were too many cobwebs in the way, a thick layer of dust coating them, keeping them warm, hidden from prying eyes. She reached out to touch one, just to run her thumb down its spine to uncover the title. Not to read, no, just to check if it was something Severus would allow her to see.

Her hand moved upwards. She knew she shouldn't be in there, but she had no intention of reading them, and besides, the chains held them. It was strong magic, it seemed, binding them, keeping the room's occupants from the world. Then the other voice told her that it had obviously failed: the door was visible. Certainly that was a sign. Of what though?

The book she was reaching for shot forward, hitting her hand and causing her to gasp. It tipped forward, just as some of them had when Severus had been here with her. It rested there, as if it was there all along. Held onto the shelf only by the chain. The only evidence of its actions was the smear of dislodged dust along its cover.

Hermione stared at the book, convinced it was going to move again. Somehow the fact that it was simply sitting there was more disturbing than if it were flailing madly.

It's fine; you've dealt with misbehaving books in the library before.

She looked back at the door and sighed, telling herself she was getting worked up over nothing. The sun had risen more, moving away from the library, lowering the light. The darkness from the depths of the room spread like a mass, moving to devour the table, to climb up the walls, to float along the ceiling.

Approaching where she stood.

Something is wrong – the sun and the darkness are out of sync.

The shadow stopped. Hermione stood still, waiting to see if anything else would happen. Wary of turning her back on the blackness, she began to back towards the door. It seemed so far away now.

The coldness of the chains hit her first. She was thrust into them, choking on the dust that was immediately drawn into her lungs, the cobwebs encircling her face. The table had swing violently to the side, slamming into the bookcases with enough force to destroy several shelves, crushing their occupants. Hermione scrambled up onto the table and began to climb over, struggling over the smooth, slippery finish. When she reached the other side and threw her legs down, one of the chains snapped, striking her leg like a whip. The books on that shelf remained still, watching her.

The pain was incredible. Even though the skin was not broken, the clear outline of each individual link was clearly visible on her calf. She sat on the edge of the table, clutching her leg, and waited, thinking. She had her wand, but what could she cast without total destruction? A sliding sound in the back of the room, moving forward. It was on the floor, under the table. She shoved herself to the middle of the surface and tried to judge how far she could jump to avoid whatever was under there. The doorway was not far – maybe just a good jump would do it.

Hermione's eyes shot to the bookcase to her left. The books where the chain had snapped were moving forward, slowly, one by one, taunting her. She gathered herself to leap, keeping her eyes on them, orchestrating in her mind just how far they might go and how to best avoid them. In a time when she should be reduced to a quivering mass, she was performing complex math as to just how far a murderous book might be able to launch itself.

Best do it now, Granger, before more damage is done. He's already going to be furious. Then again, what else is new?

Even after years of neglect, the table still had an incredible polish, feeling slippery under her feet. Hoping she wouldn't simply fall on her face, Hermione looked down at the ground, up at the doorway, and jumped.

She landed successfully and glanced back to see a black mass under the table. She was startled to find that it wasn't threatening, just approaching. Part of the room, nothing terrible. Instead of bolting for the door she backed slowly, transfixed. The dim light around it receded, dying, surrendering to it, a power flowed around it, she could feel it now. The table she had been on just seconds before was in a haze, the same kind of haze...

Before Hermione could form a thought, a great wind rushed at her, and the chair she had so carefully propped against the door was thrust out into the sitting room.

And darkness fell.