A/N: And here it is, the second part. This is a double post, if you haven't read the first post please go back and do so. Thanks.
On a side note, if you don't want to, don't bother; it will be cool if you're surprised.
Disclaimer: Read the one in the last chapter, it goes the same here.
*****
The Siege of Privet Drive
The first to speak when Harry, Ron and Hermione finally returned to the Burrow again that night was Lupin. And with a grin that was far too cheery than it needed to be as they stepped heavily into the kitchen, he said, "You know, for people who insisted some weeks ago that they had to leave, you all sure keep coming back."
"Remus!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley, shocked.
But Bill behind her agreed with Lupin, "It's a Weasley thing, just when you think you've gotten rid of us, we just keep drawing you back in."
That brought a smile to Harry's face, and when Ron and Hermione saw it, it seemed to be the cue that it was alright for them to smile too. Since they had left Professor McGonagall's office that day he had been in an increasingly foul mood and for fear of his reaction they had been put a dampener on theirs. Maybe it was just that they were back at the Burrow again, with the sun long set and without much fanfare that was bringing up his mood, but they would take anything they got. They just couldn't believe Professor Dumbledore.
Hermione walked over to the table and dropped unceremoniously unto a seat before saying, "Hey Bill, you're back. How was France?"
He grinned at her, "Wonderful, Fleur's brought gifts for all of you, she upstairs unpacking them now."
"Fleur's back?" asked Ron, happily… and a bit stupidly.
Hermione fixed him a look, and Harry, deciding to defuse the possible situation before it began, said, "Well today was a bust."
That took some of the mirth out of the room. Only Bill managed a smile as he asked, "Oh really, what happened?"
"Not much really," said Ron, looking at Harry with what could only be mild alarm. "We went to Hogwarts, saw Professor McGonagall, saw Professor Dumbledore's portrait-he looks really healthy for a dead man-had lunch in the Great Hall and came back here. Saw no Death Eaters, or suspicious characters, and did you know that Hagrid's off on some assignment?"
He had heavily edited the recount but they didn't need to know that or why.
Lupin replied for them, "Yes, he's making another go at the giants…. So you didn't have much luck with today's trip?"
Harry, looked miserably to Ron and Hermione, and then asked, "Lupin… do you have any idea why Professor Dumbledore trusted Snape?"
The three adults looked at each other a moment, surprised, and then Lupin asked, "No, why?"
Harry ignored the question, "Do you know of any reason why he would, anything that Snape could have told him that might have made him believe him?"
Lupin looked even more puzzled, "No, I am not Snape, Harry, or Dumbledore. I don't know what would qualify as irrefutable evidence of his innocence and trustworthiness in Dumbledore's eyes, or what lie Snape could have picked…. Where is this coming from?"
Hermione took over, "We asked him today, Professor Dumbledore, we asked him why he trusted Snape and he said that we had to find out why or Harry wouldn't believe him. He said we had to find out what happened that night and… and…."
She stopped then and looked to Harry for permission, he nodded slightly and she continued, "Well, when we went to Godric's Hollow we learned that Snape had been there-"
Lupin cut her off impatiently, he knew this, "Yes, yes, I'm sorry but Harry told me this already, that Snape had been there after the explosion."
"Okay, so… can you honestly not think of any reason why Snape would have been there…? I mean, apart from going to make sure that Voldemort had succeeded?" she asked.
Her tone as she said this suggested that she did not wholly agree with that idea that she was merely going along with Harry's conclusion, but no one commented. It was more as if she wanted there to be another reason, and when Harry noticed it, he felt his irritation rising again.
Lupin instead, sighed heavily, and then took a moment to think it over, before replying with a much more sombre tone than before, "You know that-that I was not really trusted by my friends before… before Peter's betrayal?"
Now it was their turn to nod impatiently, Bill and Mrs Weasley saying nothing but clearly anxiously awaiting his answer as well.
"As you know, the Wolfsbane Potion is a new… a new development, back then, I couldn't help what happened when I transformed, and so I couldn't really risk being around my friends that much. I could draw attention to them, or hurt them… so I often went off on my own, went "underground" really, among those just like me," he said.
Harry interjected, "But you're not just like-"
Lupin cut him off, continuing as before, "And it was easy to do it really. Even though I had graduated from Hogwarts with a full certificate that should have provided me with any job I wanted, once they found out I was a werewolf I would have to give it up. The best I could hope for, the best I had were teaching positions at Muggle schools. But these didn't last either. A student would be attacked sometimes, killed even-not by me though, I took care to avoid them when I transformed-but if anyone got suspicious, or I realised that I had been followed by another less scrupulous werewolf, I would have to leave. So, eventually, I just went off among the others like me, and well… Dark Creature and all…" he trailed off.
"But my Dad," Harry spoke up again, protesting feebly.
Lupin hastily began again, "I know, I know, James and Sirius and Peter had all known me since I was a boy, and trusted me, but by then Peter had started poisoning their minds against me. He made them believe that I had changed, that I was no better than some of those they were fighting against in the Order, and since I wasn't there to defend myself, they eventually began to believe it. And then Snape appeared."
His very countenance seemed to change at the name and his eyes regained the slight feral glint.
"I honestly don't know why Dumbledore trusted him, what he told him, but Snape reappeared and began sharing information with the Order. I hadn't seen him since school, nor, I think, James and Peter, and none of us wanted anything to do with him… but your mother…. Lily spoke to him, she, for some reason, like Dumbledore, spoke to him, believed him. I don't think she trusted him, no, I don't, but she did speak to him and because of her, James did as well," said Lupin.
"My Mum spoke to Snape, even after all that had happened between them at school?" asked Harry, surprised.
Unnoticed, Crookshanks padded halfway down the stairs, stared at them, and then padded back up again.
"Yes, as strange as that is… and frankly, the only other reason he would have for being there I can think of… is her…. That is, if you believe Dumbledore and agree that he wasn't there to make sure he had succeeded," said Lupin.
And then his brow was furrowed as if he was now considering something, as if he had more to say, but he didn't and Harry asked, "Did he know that you weren't bad, that you could be trusted?"
Lupin shrugged, apparently deciding to let whatever he was thinking over go and replied, "Maybe, maybe not. But if he did, he still did not like me and therefore made no attempt to help me. And however Peter passed on information to Voldemort he did it without Snape seeing him, so Snape had no reason not to think that I was the traitor as well."
Harry sighed, sat up away from the table and said, "This is ridiculous, why didn't he just tell us and be done with it?"
Lupin looked to him pityingly, as did Mrs Weasley and Bill, but their looks were coloured with curiosity. They had only just learned of Snape's presence at Godric's Hollow, and with only part of the story, they were a bit lost. Ron's expression clearly told that he agreed with Harry, but Hermione's… she seemed to be deep in thought and the more she thought about whatever it was, the less she liked the conclusion she was coming to.
Lupin noticed it eventually, and made to ask her about it, but was interrupted by the noisy arrival of Fleur and Ginny and Hedwig.
The great white owl sailed fluidly down the stairs, through the kitchen and came to rest on Harry's shoulder, nipping affectionately at a finger as he reached up to pet her. Ginny was after, bounding down the stairs wearing a new set of robes no doubt brought by Fleur, and exclaimed as she saw them, "You're back again! Oh goodness, you're alright aren't you?"
She did not rush to them though, and Harry was thankful for it. He didn't need to deal with this now.
And finally there was Fleur, and the newest Mrs Weasley-as beautiful as the day she left them some weeks ago, also in new robes-grinned brightly and rushed to hug and kiss them all, even Hermione.
"Oh, you are back! I `ope you are alright, Bill told me zat you all `ad run off and did not tell them why. You should not `ave done that, you could `ave been hurt!" she cried, smothering each of them in turn in her hugs and kisses.
It was as if she had become Mrs Weasley's younger and more beautiful double, and it was frankly slightly scary. Harry watched Hermione struggle against her, and laughed with Ron. He cut it short though, when he saw Ginny looking at him, and for some reason, she didn't look happy.
Fleur was still talking though, "Oh, but you must come, all of you. Bill `as told you of the gifts I bought? Oh you will love them, come, come! No more talk! Come now!"
And with that she grasped Hermione's arm and dragged her off to the stairs. Harry looked hesitantly back to Bill, Mrs Weasley and Lupin, but knew they couldn't help them.
They would have to complete this conversation some other time then.
*****
Harry had gone to bed early to escape them. He didn't know which of the two was more terrifying, the newly-married-and-thoroughly-over-excited-to-see-them Fleur or the cold-as-ice-and-clearly-jealous-for-no-reason Ginny. One was far too cheerful as she handed over their presents, which were mostly clothes, and which they liked and appreciated if she needed to know. But the other… Harry couldn't believe that she was actually jealous of her sister-in-law still.
Fleur was happily (very, very so) married to her brother and not likely to leave him soon for the "leetle boy" his youngest brother was friends with. Not to mention that he and Ginny had broken up weeks ago, he had no interest or chance whatsoever with Fleur, Bill had won, hands down. And did she want him to point out that she had danced with Neville at the wedding and he hadn't thrown a fit over it?
And then there was Ron and Hermione.
Even though Fleur was now technically his sister, Ron had still gone a little glazed over her and Hermione had been right there. He just sat in the room with a sort of awed expression as she went through the gifts and recounted the places they had been on their honeymoon and pretended that Hermione didn't exist. Luckily, Hermione didn't seem to be too bothered, but after what they had been through that day Harry couldn't bring himself to play devil's advocate.
They were giving him a headache, the whole lot of them.
But nothing seemed to be in his favour. Though the room had been mercilessly empty when he retreated to it-Ron opting to stay behind and gawk at his bouncy happy sister-in-law and Hedwig and Pig had gone off to hunt-no sooner than had he fallen asleep, he began to dream again.
He was sitting in a boat over a very turbulent sea. It was dark, vast and perfectly mirrored the sky above, though he couldn't entirely be sure as his eyes refused to look upwards. There was no one else with him in it, he looked around him and couldn't see them, but oh he heard them still. They were in the sea; they were the sea, their voices in argument, their moods, their manners… if he looked down in the water he would see flashes of them floating like the Inferi in Voldemort's cave….
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Aberforth in the pub, Professor McGonagall glaring, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs Weasley before his birthday, Lupin, Ron, Hermione, Ginny….
But more than that, their hands were the waves that rocked the boat, and as he tried to stay afloat above them they reached up and tried to pull him down, pull him in…. There didn't seem to be a safe harbour in sight, no matter where he looked, and tried, fighting to stay afloat…. And then along came Dumbledore, in the form of a phoenix, tantalisingly offering his tail, but keeping just out of reach telling him, "I can't tell you… you have to see it for yourself…. You won't believe me otherwise… you have to see it for yourself…."
And then the dream changed.
It changed in a way he hadn't had his dreams do in well over a year. One minute he was floating on the false sea, about to be tipped into the violent waters, and the next his feet were on solid ground and he was walking along a very familiar path in a very familiar park.
It felt real, too real to be a dream anymore. But what could it be, it was too dark out for him to see himself properly, but he felt like himself. It didn't feel like anything else.
And then his dream self looked up, and he realised why the path and park looked so familiar, it was because he was in Little Whinging, there was the street that led to Magnolia Crescent, there was the old bench he had been sitting on when he met Sirius, and he was apparently going back to Privet Drive.
This was not a dream he was sure he would like, he was done with Privet Drive, and they with him, and he didn't want to be there anymore.
But something was wrong with Little Whinging… there was fire; the entire place seemed on fire….
He tossed slightly in his sleep, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and he wiped them away with a fevered hand.
The dream went black for a moment, for a long moment so that he "forgot" about it, but then it was back again. And this time he was actually standing in the living room of the Dursley house. His aunt and uncle and cousin were nowhere in sight, but he was sure it was the same house; he recognised the mark in the wall where the heater had been ripped out.
The fire he had noticed earlier was still burning, but off in the distance through the window so that it was a faint orange glow on the horizon against a jet-black sky. He could smell smoke on his clothes, and something that was possibly blood-which was strange in a dream, but okay-and he had tracked soot into the house.
Aunt Petunia was not going to be happy when she saw that in the morning, though he didn't much care.
And then he heard the scuffling. Someone was fighting, struggling against someone else, and shouting too, he could clearly make out what they were saying.
"-in, we've been waiting for you-"
"-are you, how dare you just come into my house-"
"-neighbours will call the police! Let me go! Dudders… Dudders, what have you done to my
son!"
And then he spoke, his voice cold and with a slightly serpentine hiss, "There's no need to make a scene, no
one can hear you."
He turned to the entrance of the living room, and standing there staring at him in muted shock and horror, were his aunt and uncle, held at wand-length by no more than six Death Eaters. And as they were forced forward into the room with him, a seventh came down the stairs with his cousin Dudley.
This was no dream.
But knowing that meant little. There was no escaping it; there was nothing he could do to get out of it, at least, not until something really awful happened….
Uncle Vernon, dressed in just his pyjamas, his feet bare-suggesting that they had all been dragged from their beds-was purple with rage, and bellowed at his dream self, "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"
Aunt Petunia beside him feebly attempted to stop him, to calm him down. She knew, oh she knew, and if she didn't, she at least clearly had a strong idea….
Voldemort didn't keep them long in suspense. He raised his long grey fingers to his head and swept off his hood. Aunt Petunia shrieked in horror and snatched hold of Dudley, forcing his fat head into her bosom. Uncle Vernon's jaw dropped and he backed up a step, before grabbing at his wife and forcing her and their son behind them.
Voldemort laughed.
"Don't be tedious, you will all die no matter what you do," he told them.
Uncle Vernon fought down his horror to say, "You… you… you're one of them, one of those freaks!"
Harry could feel the rage surging through Voldemort's veins at Uncle Vernon's gaffe, but he could only stand helplessly by as he rose his wand and whispered, "Crucio!"
In an instant Uncle Vernon was on the ground violently twitching at his feet. Aunt Petunia screamed now and made to go after him, but the other Death Eaters held her back, wands at her and Dudley's throat. Harry too, felt as if he was being held a literal captive audience to the nightmare that was really unfolding miles away. He couldn't close his eyes or look away as his uncle, a man he had grown to hate, a man who despised and abused him simply because he was a wizard, twitched and jerked about in violent spasms through a pain like he had never imagined.
And it was no doubt much worse as he was a Muggle and not a young or entirely healthy one at that.
Harry tossed about in his bed again, writhing slightly as he fought to escape….
Presently though, Voldemort let up the curse, and without looking away from Uncle Vernon-who was seemingly unable to recover, still on the ground with his eyes tightly shut and jerking at irregular intervals-said, "Oh don't stand out there, Severus, come in, come in, meet the relatives…."
Aunt Petunia turned to the doorway to see the new arrival, and then gasped, "You!"
Harry was nearly forced from his mind at what that meant. She didn't… she couldn't have… she, not Snape… but before he could wake up, could finally escape, he lost control again and was forced to watch the macabre presentation continue.
At once Voldemort turned to Snape, who, with his pallid complexion and greasy black hair, looked definitely out of place in the impeccable Dursley living room. He looked unmoved though, by Aunt Petunia's outburst, and said, "Potter is not here, why are we?"
"Harry…?" asked Aunt Petunia, drawing Voldemort's attention to her and just in time to see another realisation dawning on her face.
She squeezed Dudley to her tighter then, but Voldemort ignored her, "Oh Potter is here, (he turned and walked to a mirror mounted on the wall above the fireplace) can't you see him?"
As his red eyes levelled on the glass though, just for them and Harry to catch the hint of emerald green… he finally lost the connection and Harry shot up in his bed in the Burrow in the room he shared with Ron, his head throbbing and his pyjamas soaked through in sweat.
In an instant then he snatched up his glasses and sprung from the bed, racing out of the room and down the hall to the stairs to the living room. He didn't know what time it was, he didn't know who he was going to find or where exactly he was going, but surely there was someone still awake somewhere.
He had to get help, he needed their help… he couldn't just let Voldemort kill them….
Before he was at the top of the stairs he heard the sounds of doors opening behind him. He was halfway into the kitchen before one of the occupants called after him, panicked, "Harry, where are you going? Harry!"
He ignored them though, until he stood in the kitchen, where, just his luck, Lupin still sat with Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill and the new addition of Moody. How fortunate was he that they had been having some kind of Order meeting or discussion then? And as he finally made it to the bottom step, Mrs Weasley looked up to him in alarm, "Harry… Harry, what's the matter…?"
Just then Hermione came down behind him, grabbing onto him as she stood with him and demanded, in the same panicked voice he had heard before, "Harry, Harry what's wrong? Why are you all w-did you have a nightmare?"
He turned to her, and she gasped, horrified, and then asked, "Where?"
"He's in Privet Drive," he replied, and then, remembering why he had first come down, repeated, louder, "He's in Privet Drive! Voldemort, and Snape, he just used the Cruciatus on my uncle, I think he's going to kill them all, we have to stop him! He's in Privet Drive!"
At once Lupin and Moody sprang out of their seats, with Bill and Mr Weasley shortly thereafter. Moody quickly went to the door and sent off his Patronus, no doubt to summon all without guarding the place and those beyond. Lupin went into the living room, racing to the fireplace to call the other Order members who wouldn't be reached that way. Bill went for his cloak and his wand, as did his father, and Ron, halfway down the stairs behind them, quickly rushed back up again to do the same.
Harry took a moment watching the preparations and then raced back up behind Ron with Hermione.
She called after him as they went, "Harry, your scar, it wasn't hurting before, was it?"
He was too anxious to be out of the house to be angry, and absently replied, "No, he just… he just reopened the connection to let me see… but he can't control me in there…. He didn't really seem to be trying; he just wanted me to see…."
"Ha-Harry! You… are you sure?" she called again, trying her best to keep up with him. His longer legs meant that he was making three of her steps in one of his own.
"Yes, this time… I know it this time… it was too real, everything was too clear, this wasn't a trick!" he called back, refusing to slow down and let her catch up with him.
"But Harry-" she tried to protest, but just then they came to Ron's room again and he vanished through the door.
She didn't let it stop her.
In the room Ron was already pulling up his pants and nearly fell over when Hermione came in after Harry demanding, "But Harry… you can't go there! If he's still there now, if he's there at all it could be a trap."
"Get out, Hermione!" yelled Ron, from the other side of his bed and desperately trying to work his zipper.
She ignored him, Harry had not responded to her, "Harry, I know we can't just let it happen, but the Order… you have to let the Order go, if you go then we can't stop him if he kills you!"
Now he responded, and now he was angry, "I can't stay here, Hermione! My aunt and uncle… they probably don't deserve anything from me but I can't just stay here and let him KILL THEM!"
"Don't yell at me!" she snapped, furious, stepping further into the room.
In response he turned away from her and began to sift around for his own pants. He had dropped them somewhere around when he had come in to sleep, and while he was at it he'd better get a shirt too. She found his pants first, and stepped back into the doorway, out of his reach, "Harry, you can't go! If he's there and he catches you, we can't stop him!"
Just outside they could hear the sound of mass Disapparation. The fireplace downstairs was roaring so loudly it vibrated the walls around it and rumbled the floorboards under their feet, despite Ron's room being near the top in the somewhat lop-sided house. But still Hermione stood firm in the doorway and repeated, "Harry, you can't! You can't go! If he catches you now, we can't stop him!"
He made to go after her, whispering dangerously, "Hermione, give me my pants…" and then nearly tripped over his trunk.
Fine then, she could have those, he would get another pair.
He at once wrenched it open and began digging wildly through it, looking for a clean pair, not caring where what he discarded, landed. That was, until he heard Ron go, "Hey! Watch what you're doing!" And then there was the sound of something metallic bouncing on the wooden floor, before skating its way into a wall.
He stopped at once.
"Accio locket!" called Hermione; it immediately flew into her outstretched hand.
Even Ron stopped moving then, staring, with Harry at the small gold locket and chain that swung lazily in Hermione's hand, glittering slightly in the light streaming through from the hall behind her. And then he dropped back onto the bed and searched around for his pyjama pants again. They weren't going anywhere, not if they wanted to stop Voldemort.
They would just have to sit there and hope for the best.
*****
It was nearly lunch before Lupin and the others returned, and they did not bring good news.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the living room with Ginny and Mrs Weasley, nervously and quietly awaiting their return. Fleur had left for work some time before, as it was her first day back since her honeymoon, and had sent an owl just an hour earlier to say that Bill had arrived there as well, straight off of his night in Little Whinging. Harry and the others had showered and changed, but had not gone back to bed since Harry had roused them with his dream. They refused to discuss the nightmare, or the locket that Hermione still held, twirling absently round her fingers, and so with no other messages, they were forced to wait anxiously in silence until someone arrived at the house.
This person was Lupin. He arrived with a "pop" in the deserted front yard, knocked on the door and then waited for Mrs Weasley to admit him with their pre-arranged question. Harry rose and followed her to the doorway, leaving Hermione and Ron with Ginny, to see him in. And as soon as Lupin stood in the kitchen, shrugging off his cloak and whispering to Mrs Weasley, he knew that it wasn't going to be good.
"Who is it?" he asked.
He felt, rather than heard, Hermione rise from the couch as well, to join him in the doorway, the locket swinging absently from her hand.
Lupin turned away from Mrs Weasley to them and replied, "Your uncle."
Harry gave no reaction, but Mrs Weasley groaned and Hermione's mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. Lupin continued, not noticing them, "He had a stroke… brought on by the curse… but the Muggle authorities won't know that."
Ginny and Ron came up behind them. He felt Ginny slip her hand into his and squeeze it, but he drew his hand away and walked on into the kitchen.
"And Aunt Petunia and Dudley?" he asked, tonelessly. He was surprising himself really, that he could and was not showing any emotion.
Lupin gave no indication of surprise that he wanted to know, replying only, "They're fine, but their house is gone, the Death Eaters burnt it to the ground with them in it. They've gone to your uncle's sister's place, but I expect your aunt will be back in London for a few days… she has to make arrangements…."
"Voldemort just let them go?" asked Hermione, clearly surprised.
Lupin looked up, finally noticing that she and the others were there, and told her, "No, he was interrupted by a group of Aurors the Ministry had sent after they picked up on their use of magic in front of Muggles. He was interrogating them though, or at least just Harry's aunt-that won't be going into the official report-when they crashed in. He and Snape were there, like Harry said, but Bellatrix and company too, it was hours before we got them out."
"Interrogating her?" asked Mrs Weasley.
"That's what the first group of Aurors said, or at least, those who survived…. Twenty Muggles dead in the entire siege, and six Aurors… with Dumbledore gone, he doesn't care anymore, he thinks he's invincible," replied Lupin.
"He's not," said Harry.
No one commented on this, and Lupin finally walked to the table and sat down. He looked truly tired, but still he added, "By the way, your aunt wants to speak to you."
"What?" Harry asked, dully.
"Before she went off to her sister-in-law with her son, she told me that she wanted to speak to you, that she needed to tell you something else," he replied.
"I already know what it is," said Harry, this time finally let a measure of emotion through. He had not said a thing but it had been on his mind all night as the hours ticked slowly by, and he frankly couldn't believe it.
"Oh?" asked Lupin, looking up at him again.
He swallowed, and replied, trying his best to sound detached, to maintain his numbness, "My mother… and Snape…. As soon as Voldemort called him she recognised him. It had happened years ago, but she knew him well enough to recognise him on sight in a darkened living room after her husband had just been tortured."
Ron's jaw dropped, Ginny looked confused, and Mrs Weasley, surprised, but Hermione simply stared off out the kitchen window at a gnome running around the backyard being chased by Crookshanks. Unsurprisingly, she had already figured it out.
"But Lily and Snape… they hadn't ever…" began Lupin.
"I don't think they… dated… but he was at the house," said Harry. "He was at the house and often enough so that Aunt Petunia knew who he was…."
The room fell deafeningly silent. Everyone taking a moment to process what he had just said, what it could mean, the somewhat frightful and disturbing possibilities… and then Ron asked the last question Harry wanted anyone to, for it would commit him to an action that he now wasn't so eager to do, "So what does that mean, what do we do now?"
Harry exhaled slowly, looked back at him and replied, "We go talk to Dumbledore again."
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