Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All characters and settings of Potterverse are the property of J.K. Rowling and other sundry entities. Only the plot belongs to me. I am making no money. I play in this universe for the sheer joy of it. My only payment is the kind reviews and comments of those who read and enjoy my tale. This story is canon-compliant through HBP. DH has, for the most part, been happily disregarded, especially that sappy epilogue!

Special thanks go to my beta reader, JuJuJenn. She makes sure I stay focused.

Journey out of Darkness

Three

"You!" Harry shouted. He reached for his wand, but before he could draw it, Remus had a hand on his arm.

Arthur reached out to grasp Ron's arm as he too went for his wand.

Hermione, always the most level-headed of the three, scowled at her two best friends as the missing piece of the puzzle of Dumbledore's death was finally revealed.

"Honestly, you two are so thick. You won't need to wait for Voldemort to kill you. You can pull your wands and drop dead for breaking the Vow you took just five minutes ago!"

Snape smirked. "Where would they be without you, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"I don't understand," Harry said.

"What a surprise," Snape said in a mocking tone.

"That's enough, Severus," Minerva broke in. "The boy's in shock. Stop baiting him."

"As you wish, Minerva," Snape acquiesced. "He's no longer a boy, however; it's time he started acting like the man he professes to be."

Snape went to the table and picked up the remaining glass of cordial.

"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Mr. Potter," he said as he held the glass aloft. "And welcome to you, as well, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm drinking with you," Harry said. "You killed Dumbledore!"

"Yes, I did," Snape said, putting the glass back down and leaning toward Harry. "And if you think I took any joy from that act, then you're the one out of his mind."

"Mr. Potter!" Minerva spoke sharply, drawing Harry's attention back to her.

"Severus Snape is a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He has taken the same Unbreakable Vow you just took. Were his actions in any way contrary to that Vow, he would be dead."

"But, he killed Dumbledore!" Harry continued to protest.

"When I cast the Killing Curse upon him, Albus was already dead," Snape said.

"He wasn't! I saw him. He was pleading with you ... begging you not to ... not to ..." Harry's voice broke.

"Pleading with me to do it, Potter – as he had ordered me to do. As had been planned for months – ever since we discovered that the curse unleashed upon him when he destroyed the Horcrux in the ring was incurable."

"You should have found another way!" Harry cried.

"Don't you think we tried? Don't you think we all tried? There was no other way," Snape said.

"He was dying, Harry," Minerva said in a soft tone. "He was dying slowly and painfully. He found a way to use his death to help defeat the Dark Lord."

"He ... he was dying anyway," Harry said slowly.

"Ah ... a light breaks," Snape said, as he pulled out the chair next to Arthur and sat down.

"Severus!" Minerva chided again.

"Oh, please, Minerva," Snape chided back. "It is not Potter's dislike of me that galls. I've never given him reason to have anything but dislike for me. However, I most heartily resent the implied mistrust of Albus."

"I always trusted Dumbledore," Harry said.

"And how many times did Dumbledore tell you that he trusted me, you miserable brat?" Snape shouted.

Harry opened his mouth as though to speak and then closed it with a snap.

"He's right, Harry," Hermione said, coming to stand beside him. "We've known for years that Professor Snape was a member of the Order. And Dumbledore told us over and over again that he trusted him, that he trusted him with his life."

"Indeed, Hermione," Minerva said. "Severus was the only one he trusted to do what needed to be done."

"It must have been very difficult for you, Professor Snape," Hermione said, lifting her eyes to his.

Snape wondered if she was mocking him, but he detected no trace of sarcasm in her voice. He decided to take her words at face value and responded in what was, for him, a reasonable tone.

"I did what was necessary."

"That doesn't mean it wasn't difficult," Hermione persisted. "I'm sorry you had to do it, sir."

"So am I, Miss Granger," Snape replied. "So am I."

"Hermione," Ron hissed. "How can you be so nice to him?"

Snape glared but made no comment.

"When are you going to grow up, Ronald?" Hermione said. She had her hands on her hips, and her jaw was thrust forward. "Haven't you been listening?"

"I just don't believe ..."

"You don't believe what, Ron?" Hermione asked in a sharp tone. "You don't believe Professor Dumbledore? You don't believe Professor McGonagall? How about your mum and your dad? Do you believe them?"

If Snape was surprised by Hermione's vehement defence of him, he gave no sign. He watched her through narrowed eyes and wondered when she had grown up, and how he had missed it when she had. Of course, he had been rather busy this past year.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you sit down and behave yourself!" Molly Weasley spoke in a tone of voice she hadn't used since the incident with the enchanted Ford Anglia.

"But, Mum ..."

"Sit!"

Ron sat.

Harry and Hermione also sat back down. Neither wanted Mrs. Weasley to turn her attention to them.

Minerva rapped her wand sharply on the table. When she had everyone's attention, she spoke again.

"Harry," she said, "more than five weeks ago, Remus and I both told you that there would be new and important information revealed to you on your birthday.

"Although I might have chosen a less dramatic way to inform you of Severus's true allegiances," she paused to cast a baleful glance in Snape's direction, "that information is the most important you need to know and accept. Do you understand?"

"I ... I'll try," Harry mumbled.

Snape gave a soft snort, and Minerva sent him another withering look.

"You must do more than try," she insisted. "As the head of the Order, I could compel you and Severus to work together, but I believe it would be counterproductive if you do not trust each other completely."

"Why do we have to work together?"

"I told you it would be useless to attempt this, Minerva," Snape said as he got to his feet. "I'll be leaving now."

"Sit your arse down and don't move," Minerva said as she aimed her wand at him.

Hermione gasped. Remus chuckled and earned a glare from Snape. Harry looked to Snape as though expecting him to draw his own wand and engage Minerva in a duel.

Snape gave an exaggerated sigh, but resumed his seat.

Minerva turned back to Harry. "Did Albus Dumbledore mean so little to you that you will allow his sacrifice to have been in vain?"

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh, Minerva?" Molly asked.

Minerva turned her stare on Molly. "No, Molly, I don't. Now, please don't interrupt me again."

Molly flushed, but settled back in her seat.

"I asked you a question, Harry," Minerva said.

"I ... I loved Dumbledore," Harry mumbled.

Minerva turned to Snape. "Severus, what was your standing with the Dark Lord before Albus's death?"

Snape drew a deep breath and then began to speak. "I was barely tolerated. I wasn't included in any of the important meetings he held with his followers. It was believed by some, most notably Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy that my years at Hogwarts had made me less ... committed ... to the Dark Lord's cause. Peter Pettigrew was installed in my home, ostensibly to assist me. In actuality, he was placed there to keep an eye on me. My loyalty to the Dark Lord was often tested."

"What form did that testing take?" the older woman asked.

"This isn't necessary, Minerva," Snape said.

"As the head of the Order, I deem it necessary," she insisted. "What form did that testing take?"

"The Dark Lord repeatedly used Legilimency on me, after he prepared me with the Cruciatus, of course. He frequently encouraged my 'brothers' to beat me, physically."

"And?" Minerva continued.

"Please, Minerva ..." Snape said in a hoarse whisper. He'd gone even paler than usual.

"Tell them, Severus," she said.

Snape swallowed hard before he continued. "I was frequently assaulted ... sexually ... by them."

Hermione gasped again. Ron looked like he was about to be sick. Molly was clutching Arthur's hand, and tears were running down her cheeks. Remus kept his head down, not looking at anyone.

Harry looked like he'd been hit with a Bludger.

"When these assaults occurred, did they take your wand?" Minerva asked.

"No one takes my wand," Snape said with a fierce look at the older witch.

"You could have defended yourself?"

"I was usually outnumbered, but I could certainly have put up a fight."

"Why didn't you?" Minerva pressed.

"I would have been killed, thus ending my usefulness to the Order."

"What is your status with the Dark Lord now?" Minerva asked.

"I hold a place at the Dark Lord's side. He confides in me. He trusts me."

"He doesn't use Legilimency on you anymore?" Minerva asked.

"Oh, he does. Fortunately, I am still a much better Occlumens than he is a Legilimens," Snape replied with a snide little quirk of his thin lips.

"Does he still use the Cruciatus?"

"All of us suffer punishment occasionally. The frequency of my punishments has decreased dramatically, however," Snape replied.

"Do you still suffer beatings from your so-called brothers?"

"No."

"And the sexual assaults?" Minerva pressed on.

"You will make me say this?" Snape growled.

"There must be no doubts left, Severus. You know this," Minerva persisted.

"Very well then, if you insist that my humiliation be made public and complete. No, I do not suffer the sexual assaults of the others anymore. I have been deemed the exclusive property of the Dark Lord. Only he is allowed to fuck me these days!"

Snape stood and stomped through the door, slamming it violently behind him as he left.

Minerva turned to where Harry sat looking pale and ill.

"Do you still doubt Severus Snape's loyalty?" she asked.

"I ... I don't know what to say," he mumbled.

"You have a very important task ahead of you," Minerva said. "Believe me when I tell you that without the help of that man out there, you will fail.

"The fate of the entire wizarding world rests on your shoulders, Harry," she said in a much kinder tone. "We will all do what we can, but only Severus can provide the vital information you will need."

Harry nodded, and then he stood up.

"I ... I have to talk to him."

"He'll likely be in the drawing room," Minerva said. "He keeps a bottle of Firewhisky in the writing desk."

"Excuse me," he said as he turned toward the door.

Harry found Snape sprawled on the sofa in front of the fireplace. The bottle of Ogden's Old was in his hand, but the cap was still on, and it didn't look like he'd drunk any of it yet.

"Professor ..." Harry began.

"Come to feast on my humiliation, Potter?" Snape interrupted with a snarl.

"No."

"Then go away and leave me alone," Snape said as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle in his hand.

"I ... I didn't know ..."

"Of course you didn't know. You were a child; such knowledge would have been unseemly. Besides, did you think I wanted to have that information bandied about among the students? I can only be grateful I don't have to face them again. I shall never forgive Minerva for forcing me to make such a revelation, and to you, of all people."

"I'm glad I know," Harry said.

"Why? So you and your friends can snicker at me and take delight in the fact that I debase myself on a regular basis?"

"No. I'm glad because now I know why you hate me so much. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have to ... to do that."

"As usual, you vastly overestimate your own importance, Potter. I sealed my own fate when I took the Dark Mark. And my promise to Albus to work toward the defeat of the Dark Lord was in place even before your first encounter with him on the night your parents died."

"Why did you go to Professor Dumbledore? Why did you turn against Voldemort?"

"Why do you care?" Snape growled.

"I guess I need to understand."

Snape seemed to consider Harry's words for a moment, and then he began to speak. "I went to Albus because I finally recognised the Dark Lord for the madman he is. Because I finally realised that his only motivation was a quest for power and for his own immortality. Because after Regulus Black tried to leave his service, and was summarily executed, I realised that until the Dark Lord was dead, I would never be free.

"My motives were purely selfish," Snape added.

"I don't believe that," Harry said.

"Why not? You've been willing to believe the worst of me since you've known me. Why would you disbelieve me now, just when I've confirmed your beliefs?"

"Because I think you'd rather die than submit to him that way."

"As miserable as my life is, it's better than being dead."

"You don't believe that any more than Dumbledore did," Harry insisted. "You allow yourself to be treated that way because it's the only way to get close enough to learn how to defeat him."

"How do you know I'm not just some pouf who enjoys it?"

"Because if you enjoyed it, he wouldn't do it, would he? It's all about control with him, isn't it?"

Snape looked at the young wizard in front of him. He looked so much like his father – his proud, arrogant, hateful father. But, there was none of James Potter's smugness, none of his haughtiness, none of his vindictiveness residing in Harry Potter. James Potter had chosen the path he walked. Harry Potter had been forced to follow the path laid out by a madman. James Potter would have delighted in Snape's humiliation. It was patently obvious that Harry Potter did not. Mayhap it was time to stop seeing the father in the son.

"It is indeed about control. I wouldn't have expected you to be so perceptive," Snape said.

"Having to ... to do that must make you hate me even more," Harry said.

Snape glared at the younger wizard for a moment.

"I don't hate you, you wretched whelp," he said, but there was more resignation than rancour in his voice. He recapped the bottle of Firewhisky without drinking any. "I admit I hated your father. He was an arrogant bastard who enjoyed making my life a misery. But you are not your father, and it was wrong of me to mistreat you because he had mistreated me.

"And that's as close as you'll get to an apology from me, Potter. Take it or leave it."

"Professor McGonagall says that without your help, I'll never defeat the Dark Lord," Harry said, not commenting on Snape's 'apology'.

"And what do you think?"

"I think she's right," Harry replied.

"You seem to have done all right without me thus far," Snape said.

"You've been helping me since my first year, I was just too blind to see it and too stubborn to accept it."

"There may be hope for you yet."

"Will you help me, Professor, please?"

Snape got to his feet and tucked the bottle of Ogden's Old back into the drawer of the small desk, and then he turned back to Harry.

"I'm no longer your professor, Potter," Snape said. "Perhaps it's time you addressed me less formally."

"You want me to call you 'Severus'?" Harry asked, trying to hide his surprise.

"Don't be ridiculous. You may call me 'Mr. Snape'."

Harry stared at him and then started to laugh.

Snape scowled. Apparently Potter had thought he was joking.

"Can we talk later, Snape?" Harry asked when he had finally stopped laughing. He purposely left off the 'mister'.

Snape glared again and then shrugged. Although he'd used his surname, he hadn't said it disrespectfully or derisively. Potter was an adult now, and an Order member. It could finally be acknowledged that they were on the same side of the battle.

"We have a lot to talk about," Snape agreed. "Now that you and your compatriots are Order members, it's time we begin to train aggressively for the battles ahead. It's also imperative that we find and eliminate the remaining Horcruxes."

"I'm looking forward to it," Harry said.

"Don't get cocky. The Dark Lord isn't going to stand still and allow you to destroy his bid to live forever."

"I'll never underestimate him again," Harry said. "And I won't underestimate you, either."

"We'd best get back to the others," Snape said. "They probably think we've hexed each other unconscious by now."

"We never did drink our toast, did we?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure the others have finished their tipple by now, but it was a new bottle; they may have left a drop or two for us."

Snape turned back toward the door that led downstairs to the kitchen.

"Snape," Harry said, and Snape turned back.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Even without the Vow, I'd never have said anything to anyone, you know, not even to Ron and Hermione. I ... I wish my stubbornness hadn't made it necessary for Professor McGonagall to force you to ..."

"I'll deal with Minerva later," Snape said.

"Don't be angry with her; it was my fault."

"It's no one's fault, Potter, save the Dark Lord's."

"We'll make him pay," Harry said with vehemence.

Snape stared at Harry for a moment and then he nodded.

"Yes, we will. Now, let's go have that drink."

When Snape and Harry entered the kitchen a few moments later, all eyes turned to them.

"Have you two managed to find a way to get along?" Minerva asked.

"We have managed to agree to fight the common enemy rather than each other, haven't we, Potter?" Snape said.

"Yes, we have, Snape," Harry replied.

"In that case, I believe a toast is still in order," Arthur said.

Harry went back to his place between Ron and Hermione, and Snape once again took the place next to Arthur.

Snape picked up his untouched glass of cordial and held it up once again.

"Potter, Weasley, Miss Granger ... welcome to the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry raised his own glass and nodded. Then he brought the glass to his lips and drained it.

Hermione sent Snape a small, tentative smile and a softly murmured, "Thank you," before she, too, emptied her glass.

Ron looked from Harry to Snape and then from Snape to Hermione. Then he shrugged and swallowed his own drink.

Minerva looked relieved as she sipped from her glass. When everyone had finished their drinks, she once again tapped her wand on the table.

Seven pairs of eyes turned toward her expectantly.

"Now that the festivities have been concluded, it's time to get to work."

Author's note: This story was written in response to the Post DH Challenge on The Petulant Poetess.

I chose prompt #5: Harry touches his scar; it hasn't pained him in 19 years. He

hears hooting, rolls over in bed to see Hedwig sweeping in the open

window at Privet Drive, and realizes that his 17th birthday isn't far

off. Go for it... a new seventh year for the lot.