Revenge Is Sweet Indeed
Disclaimer: Harry Potter's universe belongs to Rowlings. I make no money off this story.
The grief was overwhelming. His godfather was dead; his father figure gone. His one hope of leaving his 'loving' family was gone.
He blamed Dumbledore. If he hadn't locked Sirius up at Grimmauld Place, his godfather may not have been driven insane with boredom. He hated Dumbledore; hated him with his entire being. If only he could do something with that hate. If only he could make Dumbledore pay, make him hurt as Harry hurt. He sighed softly, resignation filling him. There was nothing he could do to Dumbledore. The man was too powerful, too wily, and too popular. Plus he was needed for the war with Voldemort. Maybe there would be a time in the future, but for now, he would have to wait.
He also blamed Snape. If only Snape had warned Sirius, or even warned Dumbledore, then his godfather would still be alive. Harry wouldn't have gone to the Ministry and Sirius wouldn't have followed him. It was Snape's fault too. He knew there was nothing he could do the Potions Master. He wasn't stupid. He knew that Snape was even more dangerous than Dumbledore. Snape's ultimate strength was his will to survive. He would do anything to survive, even spy for Dumbledore. He was surprised that Snape was still alive. He was surprised that the man wasn't ever caught. Voldemort would definitely torture and kill the man if he ever found out that Snape was a spy.
Harry paused at that thought, a dark smile gracing his face. Harry couldn't do anything, but what about Voldemort? What if the Dark Lord found out about Snape? Harry snorted. What was he thinking? Like he could just write a letter to Voldemort and let him know what side of the war Snape was really on. Harry thought about it some more and began to smile darkly. Maybe…just maybe that would work.
Walking over to his desk, he pulled out a piece of Muggle notebook paper and a pen. He looked at the paper thoughtfully, wondering if he could really do this. If he did, Snape would die. Could he really be instrumental in the man's death? Did he really hate him that much? Putting the pen down, he stared out the window absently, his mind racing with thoughts. He was distracted by a movement from outside. His eyes widened as he saw a large black dog run into the yard.
"Sirius," Harry whispered, his heart in his throat. Could it be? Could his godfather have survived? Did Dumbledore find a way to bring him back? Hope filled him and he was half way off the chair when he saw a young woman run after the dog.
"Ebony! You damn dog! Get your arse out that yard before I take you to the vet to have you put down!" the woman screamed as the large dog ran around joyfully.
Harry sat down on the chair, hard, hope dying. Of course it wasn't Sirius. It didn't even look like Sirius except that it was black. Sirius was dead and he wasn't coming back. Pain filled him at the thought. Gone; he was gone. Hate filled him as he remembered those who he blamed. Looking down at the paper, his eyes filled with determination and hate, he began to write.
You don't know me, but I thought you should know that Severus Snape is a spy. Yes, I know you know this. Unfortunately, what you don't know that he isn't a spy for you. He is a spy for Dumbledore. He has been since the first war. Of course you could doubt me, but did you know that he knows Occlumency and that he can hide his thoughts? Did you know that he is the one who tells the Order everything about you; your meetings and your plans? Of course, you don't have to take my word for it, but can you really afford to take the chance that I'm right? I would suggest a dosage of Veritaserum, but it's up to you.
A concerned citizen
Harry put the pen down and read the note carefully. It would do. He wouldn't expect Voldemort to believe it right away, but the man was too paranoid to take a chance that one of his Death Eaters was a spy. He would eventually dose Snape with Veritaserum and then he would learn the truth. Snape would die and Harry would have his revenge. He couldn't wait to hear the news. He folded the paper up, pulled out an envelope, and wrote down the address to the Riddle Mansion. He may not have Hedwig, but he knew that Voldemort would get this eventually. He would just have to wait.
Harry stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. It has been two weeks since he sent the letter to Voldemort and nothing! No twinge, no pain, no vision. Damn it! Maybe he should have waited until school started to that he could've sent it with an owl. He sighed mournfully. He was going to have to wait and send it again. Another two months before he could get his revenge.
He stood up from the bed, only to fall to the floor as pain hit him. Feelings of rage and betrayal filled him and Harry laughed ecstatically. Voldemort got his letter. Finally. Harry slumped to the ground eagerly, waiting for the vision to overwhelm him. He didn't want to miss this.
"Pettigrew!" Voldemort hissed angrily from his chair as he crumpled up the mysterious letter that had been found at Riddle Manor"Your arm."
Pettigrew slunked over to the Dark Lord, whimpering slightly as his arm was grabbed in a tight grip. He yelped with pain when the Dark Lord's wand touched his dark mark and called his Death Eaters. A few minutes passed before the first Death Eater walked into the room. He made his way towards the Dark Lord and knelt down, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. Stepping back, he waited patiently while the rest of the Death Eaters came in and greeted the Dark Lord.
Voldemort looked over those who were gathered, his gaze cold. He smirked as he saw some of them shiver with fear. He gaze grew even colder when Severus Snape walked into the room, later than he should have been.
"You're late, Snape," he hissed.
Snape paled slightly before kneeling to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robe, showing his penitence. "I'm sorry, my lord. The old fool kept me longer than normal. There was a meeting about Potter. I thought you would like to know what was going on," he informed the Dark Lord.
"And what did you learn, my faithful Death Eater?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes gazing down at the Potions Master coldly.
"Potter has been devastated by the loss of his godfather," Snape spat. His eyes gleamed with malice and pleasure at the thought of Black's death. "Dumbledore thought it would be wise to give time for Potter to mourn. He has restricted access to the boy. His friends are not able to write him and Potter is not able to write anyone. He has taken Potter's owl for safety reasons," he sneered. "He believes time will help with the mourning process as it did last year. Stupid if you ask me."
"I care not for the mental health of Potter. Have you found out where the boy lives? Have you found out the rest of the prophecy? Have you found out anything of importance for me, Snape?" the Dark Lord demanded.
"My Lord, Dumbledore doesn't fully trust me. He keeps all his cards to himself. He's afraid that anything he informs me, you will be able to take from my mind," Snape said, a fine tremor of nervousness in his voice.
"Um…." Voldemort looked down at Snape, his mind wandering. He wondered who wrote the letter and how long it had waited in the mailbox. He might not have known about it if Pettigrew hadn't noticed that something was different with the mailbox when they visited the Manor. Regardless of who wrote it, Snape was a traitor. Whoever wrote the letter was wrong about one thing; he didn't have a hard time believing that Snape was a traitor. He never really trusted him after he failed to show up in the graveyard last year and then there was Potter's first year. Was Snape really working to stop Quirrell from getting the stone or did he know that Voldemort possessed Quirrell and was therefore attempting to stop him on Dumbledore's orders?
"Stand my faithful," Voldemort said. "I have need of your services."
Snape stood and looked at the Dark Lord carefully, his gaze unreadable. "Since you are a Potions Master, I assume you have some Veritaserum on you?" Voldemort asked.
"Of course, my lord."
"I require some," the dark figure stated.
Snape swallowed, reached into his robe, pulled out a small bottle and handed it to Voldemort. The Slytherin Heir grabbed the bottle, pulled out his wand, pointed it at Snape and said," Incarcerous."
Thick ropes flew out of thin air to wrap themselves around Snape. The Potions Master looked startled, afraid, and then resigned. He stared at the Dark Lord defiantly.
"Ah, Snape. So you aren't going to argue? Beg? Plead?" Voldemort asked.
"That's fine. I will make you talk." Getting up from the chair, he walked over to Snape, opened the bottle, grabbed Snape's head and forced some Veritaserum down his throat. Voldemort wasn't concerned about giving him too much as he would die tonight
"What is your name?" Voldemort demanded.
"Severus Snape," the Potions Master intoned.
"To whom are you faithful, my servant?"
The room sizzled with power as Voldemort became enraged. He knew that Snape was a traitor, but to hear from the man himself made him angry.
"How long have you been Dumbledore's man?" the Dark Lord asked.
"Since the first war."
Voldemort hissed, his red eyes glowing with power. Turning around, he stalked back to his chair and sat down. "My Death Eaters, we have a traitor in our midst. As you know, I don't tolerate such betrayal. You may torture him; make him regret ever turning against us. However, don't kill him. That distinct pleasure will be mine."
The Death Eaters stepped forward eagerly, their wands at the ready. They were going to have so much fun.
Harry tossed and turned most of the night as Snape was tortured, mutilated and then finally killed. He whimpered with pain as Voldemort laughed with pleasure at the screams of the traitor, but Harry couldn't help but feel satisfied that that the Potions Master was finally dead. His death had been brutal, but Harry felt he deserved everything he got.
Days passed after Snape's death and Harry was in a perpetual happy mood. Nothing could bring him down; not even being unable to communicate with his friends.
Finally it was time for school to begin. Harry was packed and he waited by the door for someone from the Order to pick him up to take him to catch the train. There was a knock on the door and Harry rushed over to open it. He frowned slightly when he saw Lupin, Moody and Tonks. He wasn't quite ready to face Lupin. There was too much guilt and pain at the reminder of Sirius and he didn't want to be reminded today.
"Harry, you ready to go?" the werewolf asked gently.
"Um...sure. Let me get my trunk," Harry said before moving away from the door.
"Constant Vigilance!" Moody roared and Harry jumped with surprise.
"Sir?" he asked.
"What if we had been Death Eaters?" Mood demanded.
Harry smirked. "Then you wouldn't have gotten past the wards. Only those intent on not harming me can pass the ward," he informed while idly wondering why it didn't work on his own family.
Moody grumbled while Tonks grinned gleefully at Harry, her hair changing color wildly.
Harry rolled his eyes and walked over to his trunk. He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Let me get that, Harry," Lupin suggested.
Harry nodded and stepped back from Lupin, ignoring the slight frown on the werewolf's face. Lupin pulled out his wand and shrunk the trunk. "Ready?" he asked.
The dark haired boy looked around the room and nodded before walking out of the house.
Harry sat in the Great Hall, looking at the Head Table curiously. He suppressed a smirk when he saw the open chair where Snape usually sat. He would finally have a Snape free year. Hell, he had years of being Snape free.
"Wonder where the git is," Ron said as he followed Harry's gaze.
Harry shrugged. "Who knows."
"I bet he's doing something for the Order," Hermione said softly.
Ron snorted. "Who cares as long as he isn't here. It would be nice if we didn't have to worry about him this year."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped.
"What?" the red head demanded. "It's not like anyone would miss him if he was gone for the year, except maybe his slimy Slytherins."
Harry laughed softly and watched as the last first year was sorted. The Headmaster stoop up, his gaze solemn as he looked down at the students.
"It's with sadness that I begin this new year. Your Potions Master, Severus Snape's body was found outside of Hogwarts gates. He had been tortured beyond imagination. I know that his harsh teaching methods did not make him a popular man, but I ask that you give him a moment of silence to show your respect."
Harry snorted softly and Ron choked, his expression shocked. Hermione looked as if she would cry.
The room was quiet for a minute before the Headmaster nodded. "Let the feast begin," he said and the students murmured uneasily. This was not their slightly insane Headmaster. He was too solemn.
Staring at the Headmaster, Harry suddenly realized that the twinkle that was always in Dumbledore's eyes was gone. Could the old man truly miss Snape? Harry grew excited. Was Dumbledore feeling pain? Did he feel guilt? Did he blame Voldemort for his death? Did he feel hate at the thought that Snape was now gone? Harry smirked and began to eat, his eyes bright.
A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see his Head of House looking at him sternly, though her eyes were kind. "Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you after the feast."
Harry nodded. McGonagall handed him a piece of paper with the password to the Headmaster's office and walked off. The dark haired boy looked over at the Headmaster, his gaze blank. Dumbledore met his gaze and frown slightly. Harry sneered lightly and looked away.
Finally the feast was over and Harry made his way towards the Headmaster's office. Looking down at the paper and snorted. "Severus," he told the gargoyle statue.
The statue moved aside and Harry walked up the stairs, making his way towards the Headmaster's office. Once he reached the door, he knocked.
"Come in, Harry," the kind voice said.
Harry opened the door and walked into the room. He walked over to the chair sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk and sat down. Looking at the Headmaster, he restrained the urge to smile with satisfaction. Dumbledore looked older than ever. The death of Snape must have affected him more than he let on.
"How was your summer?" the old wizard asked, his blue eyes concerned.
Harry shrugged. He wasn't about to talk to Dumbledore about his summer or his pain over losing Sirius. "It would have been nice to talk to my friends. I was alone."
The Headmaster sighed. "I'm sorry that you feel that you were alone, but I felt that you needed time to mourn. Losing someone you loved is hard," he said, his gaze distant.
Harry looked at him, his eyes serious. "Do you miss Snape?" he asked.
Dumbledore looked surprised at the question before nodding slightly. "I do. Many did not understand Snape and he was a harsh man, but I loved him like he was my son. He will be dearly missed." There were tears in the Headmaster's eyes.
Joy filled Harry. He had hurt Dumbledore like Harry hurt. "Will you regret what you made him do? Will you feel guilt over his death, knowing that you could have stopped it, but ignored it for the greater good? Do you feel rage at Voldemort? Don't you want to get revenge on the one's who killed him?" Harry asked, images of Snape's torture in his mind and the feeling of satisfaction that he felt at the man's death.
Dumbledore gazed at Harry, his eyes intent. The boy felt a trickle in his mind as Dumbledore stared at him and he knew that the Headmaster was reading his mind. He wasn't concerned. The Headmaster needed him to defeat Voldemort. He couldn't afford to lose his weapon. Besides who would miss a Death Eater that was hated by many anyway?
The Headmaster's eyes rounded with shock as he realized that Harry had betrayed Snape to Voldemort. "Harry, what did you do?" he choked out.
Harry smirked. "Revenge is sweet indeed."