Loksins, loksins…


I must be out of my fucking mind, making a promise like that. What the hell was I thinking? I needed them on my side, ‘tis true, but there must have been a better way… Harry was shaking his head at those thoughts. No time for regrets. It was time for action. He needed to find Snape whatever the cost, but, still, he had to hurry. He could not delay any longer. But how? How was he supposed to find the man, he had no idead where he was. But Harry knew he had to find Snape and possibly Malfoy before Voldemort did, because if he didn’t, they’d die. And then Harry’d have no chance what so ever to uphold his promise. Breaking a promise in a working relationship, that stood on shaky legs was, by Harry’s estimation an example of bad diplomacy.

But then Harry started thinking about his own feelings towards the two men. He hated them both, but personal feelings couldn’t be placed before the greater good. But, why had Snape killed Dumbledore? Harry knew, that however evil Snape might be, the former teacher had always treated the late headmaster with the utmost respect, and Harry had always been sure that it hadn’t been a facade. He recalled the fateful night when Dumbledore had died, and remembered how he had been stuck and helpless to watch Snape kill his old mentor. And he remembered how scared Malfoy had been. It was obvious to Harry now, that Malfoy hadn’t wanted to kill Dumbledore, but his fear for Voldemort had gotten the best of him. And he was also sure by now that Snape killed Dumbledore, because the latter had not wanted Malfoy becoming a murderer. And so Snape had infact done what Dumbledore had wanted him to do.

And then they ran. Well they’d have no safe haven anywhere, they were pretty much hunted by every available Auror. And the Death Eaters were after them as well, because Malfoy had not done Voldemort’s bidding, chickening out like that. As a result, Harry had to beat two different factions to the pair of fugitives, both of whom would kill them if they got to them.

But this led the young warrior back to his initial thought; how to find them. He had thought about asking Fawkes, but he didn’t expect the bird to know where they were. He was to busy finding the Horcruxes anyway. So he intended to find them himself. Harry Potter got on his feet, swung his leg over his broom, and bolted up in the air.

Okay… I’m sure I should start by visiting Snape’s house. But where was it again? Didn’t someone mention it back at Headquarters? Hmm… London! Yeah, it’s somewhere in London. He took a sharp turn, due south, and lay almost flat on his broom. As he finally, after what seemed forever, was flying over London, he was suddenly bombarded with familiar “scents”. What the hell? He was a bit confused, but then realised that he was smelling the things he’d been around and familiar with. For instance, he was smelling the intense sweaty smell that Dudley produced when ever he walked more than two feet. He stopped for a moment to sort out the “scents” and after a while, he was able do isolate Snape’s and Malfoy’s distinctive smells. Yes! I’m the man, I’m the man, I’m the man… He,he, funny… But his relief was short-lived, though, for he thought he was smelling urgency, or fear, perhaps tingled with Malfoy’s scent. Shit!

“Stupefy!” Severus Snape roared in the living room at his place, Spinner’s End. He ducked neatly as a particularly nasty spell was thrown his way, and saw Malfoy go down. Damn boy’s useless! He threw a combo of levitative and stunning charms at the five death eaters that were attacking him and Malfoy. Snape had always considered himself as a capable duelist, combatant even, but he had not taken one Death eater down. They’re getting better. Faster and more powerful… A stunner grazed his arm, and left him stunned for a second as if he’d been hit in the face with a curled fist. That was a second too long, and he landed with a thud on the hardwood floor as a stunning charm took him straight in the chest. Damn. But as he was falling down, he thought he saw, through the window a dark form upon the rooftop opposite the alley. Blackness.

The damn place is a battlefield! Five Death eaters, at least. I can take them, but it won’t be easy. Element of surprise is on my side, ‘tis true, and I’ve got to make what I can of it. Problably can’t break the door, nor the windows… A wicked smile edged to Harry’s face as his strategy formed in his mind.

Knock, knock, knock… Someone was tapping at the door ever so slightly. Macnair’s face screwed up in confusion as he approached the door. He extended his arm and took hold of the doorknob.

“Wait!” Goyle snapped. He motioned his son, Goyle jr. to stand behind the door and Crabbe sr. and Crabbe jr. to stand in each corner. None noticed Snape’s eye open. Damn fools. These positions leave them wide open for an attack from the door… They’d gotten faster and stronger, but they were still as dumb as ever… Macnair’s hand twisted the doorknob…

Harry slammed his shoulder against the door as soon as he heard the doorknob turn. The door connected solidly against Macnair’s face, and he went down hard. As soon as Harry swept into the room, he turned in a circle, grabbed the door, got behind it, effectively using it as a shield against any attacking spell. Harry’s elbow hit Goyle’s midriff section, stealing the breath from his former classmate. He twirled behind the boy, produced a knife from his boot, placing it at Goyle’s throat.

“Move, and this here knife goes into your windpipe. Got it?” A low whimper from Goyle told Harry he did. Slowly Harry pushed the door back, closing it and stood face to face with four upraised wands.

“Who are you?” Demanded Macnair. Harry’s eyes got a little sparkle in them and he flashed a sly smile behind the veil he covered his face with.

“Believe me, Macnair, I would clasp wrists, but as you can see, my hands are a bit full, at the moment.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Snape and Malfoy slowly and silently rise.

“And now, the odds even out!” – Harry shouted and hit Goyle on the back of his head, knocking him out and at the same moment, Snape and Malfoy stunned the Crabbes. They moved to stun Macnair, but a vicious look from Harry stopped them in their tracks.

“He’s mine!” Who is he? Snape thought uneasily. But he focused on the scene before him and noticed that Macnair had his fabled axe out of its ring on the man’s belt. The unknown rescuer snapped two long-swords from their sheaths on his back. This should be interesting Snape thought, for he had never seen Macnair lose a fight where blades were the key weapons. Snape would have put his money on Macnair, but the other man’s sheer confidence and the familiarity in which he handled the two swords kept Snape wondering if this fight would indeed be the first one Macnair would lose…

The two combatants regarded each other for a moment, and Harry noticed at once that Macnair carried himself with the uncanny ease of a man who’s confidence in his abilities was unending. He also noticed that his adversary was a proud man, and likely underestimated him. That was Harry’s edge over the other. Again, the element of surprise was on Harry’s side. Harry brought his swords up in a X, thus saluting Macnair. The executioner did so as well. There was a certain code of honor which wizards upheld when in a juel, even if it was in melee combat. They clashed together, swords hitting axe, sparks flying about, and both trying to push the other as hard as they could, Macnair gradually getting the upper hand, or so it seemed. And just as the edge of the axe was at Harry’s face, the young man dropped low, rolling between Macnair’s wide spread legs, twirled about and hit Macnair on the buttocks with the flat of his blades. That mocking move produced a mighty roar from the big man. He turned around at screamed angrily:
“No one mocks me! You’ll die for this you whelp!” He rushed forward and brought his weapon down and in a low arch, attempting to sever Harry’s legs. The young man chuckled at the cumbersome move, jumped up, over the axe, and again slapped the flat of his blades on Macnair, but this time, he went for the man’s face, drawing two, fine lines of blood from the cheeks. This was more than Macnair could handle.

All self-control and sanity left him at that point, and he charged in, swinging with all his might. A mighty swing, which was dodged by Harry, a second one and a third one. And finally, Harry, tired of the jumped forward and hit the man on the temples with the pommels of his swords. The huge man went down with a crash. Harry went over and picked up the axe. He hated to admit it, but the axe was an example of superb craftsmanship, perfectly crafted, it’s edge razor sharp, and deadly. Harry’s admiration was short lived though, for he noticed the many notches on it’s shaft. He dropped it and bound Macnair as well as the others. Snape made no move, to awed at the young man’s fighting prowess. Malfoy just stood, did nothing.

When Harry’s work was done, he finally turned to the men he initially went out to search for.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Snape. Real tidy and clean. Matches your hair. And the lines beneath your fingernails.” Good one… Snape's cheeks flushed red, well as red as a corpse’s would, at any rate. No one insulted Severus Snape like this! He moved to throw an angry snap at the stranger, but then saw the heap on the floor that was the proud, unbeaten Macnair. He decided upon a more stoic route.

“Who are you?” The man looked at him for a moment, and Snape saw a thin smirk take to the corners of the man’s mouth.

“Just a man passing by, seeing innocent lads in trouble with some nasty death eaters, ‘is all.” Something seemed familiar about the stranger, though Snape could not quite place it. The sarcasm was dripping of Harry’s words, and it unsettled Snape. The unknown man threw his hands up in defeat and remarked:

“You never were to bright, were you, Snape? You did appear pretty stupid hanging in mid-air, with your robes hanging, showing all the dirty nickers, mush to my dad’s delight!” Harry pulled the veil from his face, and it took Snape a second or two to recognise the young man in front of him. Was that Harry Potter? No way! He wasn’t that old, nor could he fight with a sword. Gryffindor’s sword, no less. But the eyes. Those were Lily’s eyes, no doubt about that!.

“What the hell happened to you, Potter? You look… Older, taller, stronger… And what is the meaning of this? Why are you here?” Harry sat down on a nearby chair, and ruffled up his hair. He beckoned to Malfoy.

“What’s the deal with the blondie? He’s a deaf-mute, or what? Got his tongue cut out? Why doesn’t he say something?” Snape looked over at Malfoy and revealed to Harry that Voldmemort had killed his mother, when he found out about Malfoy’s inability to kill Dumbledore. If Snape had hoped to earn Harry’s sympathy fo Malfoy he was sorely disappointed, for Harry just shrugged.

“Well, well, seems we have something in common, now, Malfoy. Perhaps you have come to understand that there are some things in this world that you just do not make fun of. Death of one’s parent is one of those things.” Malfoy silently nodded his agreement.

“But back to the subject at hand. Why am I here? It’s simple. I’ve come to call on a favor.”

“I owe you nothing!” Snape said heatedly.

“Yes you do, you owe me your life. You both do. Now I need you to come with me and brew a Wolfe’s bane potion for some people.”

“What people?” Harry told him. Snape eyes were wide as saucers.

“You can’t be serious. Greyback will kill us on the spot.” Harry had willingly kept news of the former leader’s death secret for a dramatic effect.

“Greyback is dead.” That revelation took Snape completely by surprise. He stared at Harry in shock and his utter was barely audible.

“How?”

“I killed him. And a few other loyal to him as well.” The matter-of-fact tone of Harry’s words unnerved Snape, and it hit him with incredible force; here was a man that was ready to do whatever he could to rid the world of Voldemort, whatever the cost. Snape suddenly felt the urge to accept, to do what Harry asked. But there was a problem. They were hunted by all who opposed Voldemort.

“What of our fate when this is all over, then? What will we do? Wh can go nowhere, we have no safe haven.”

“I shall speak on your behalf. If you aid me in this task, I shall try and get you pardoned.” Snape was happy with that arrangement, as was Malfoy. Suddenly Fawkes appeared in the room sitting on Harry’s knee. The other two were startled by the bird’s sudden appearance. Snape moved to ask Harry about it, but noticed that Harry sat on the stool, his eyes white, unseeing, but he jerked a little every now and then. For five minutes it went on and on, until suddenly, Fawkes disappeared, and Harry’s eyes returned to normal.

“What happened, Potter? And you still haven’t told me about the change on your physique.” Harry smirked slightly, got up and pulled his hood up, and replaced the veil over his face.

“A good magician never reveals the secret of his tricks, now does he?” He moved forward, inches from Snapes face, and he towered over him! He had an intense gleam in his eyes that shone bright.

“If you betray my trust and do not as I have asked,” Harry pulled out the knife from his boot, “this knife will draw a fine, red line on your throat, ear to ear. Do we understand each other?” Snape nodded. He realised that this was not a threat, but a promise, a promise Harry would no doubt keep without a moment’s hesitation… The young boy swept out of the room, and left the pair set on their heels.


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