Summer of Secrets Chapter 1, a harry potter fanfic

Title: Summer of Secrets

Summary: Well, this is a response to Severitus' Challenge, so that is really all the summary you need. If you don't know what that is, i wouldn't reccomed looking it up until you get past chapter five of this story. I hear it's mroe impressive that way. (I'm adding this information, BTW, because several people became very cofused. It seems my original Authors note was not informative enough.) Severitus is listed as one of my favourite authors, see her profile for details of The Challenge.

Other Info: This is NOT a Slash story. There will most likely be no pairings of any kind in this story. (as of 7-31-05 this story isn't finished yet.) Anything hinted at is most likely not what it seems. Chapter one is more of a prologue than anything.

The prologue to this story starts with Chapter 36 of The Goblet of Fire. It starts with the last paragraph at the bottom of page 712 of the American paperback edition of hte book. The third task has been completed, Fudge disbelieved both Harry and Dumbldore about Voldemort's return. Snape showed Fudge the Dark Mark on his arm. Fudge gave Harry his winnings and Dumbldore is sending everybody off to various tasks. Just as a reminder, the room currently contains Harry, Dumbldore, Snape, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione.

I've re-written this scene as the starting point for this fic. Anything that was in Ms. Rowling's version that I have left out, was deliberately left out. Anything I've included here that was not in the original version, was included intentionally.

Disclaimer: I don't ordinarily write disclaimers, but I must credit much of the text here to J. K. Rowling. Anything you recognize here, I plagiarized from the previously mentioned chapter and pages of The Goblet of Fire. Some other text was quoted from Chapter 33 (specifically, from pages 649 to 652 of the American paperback edition.) I am not J. K. Rowling. I intend neither disrespect nor profits from this story. Thank you for not suing me. If anyone wishes to re-post, share, copy, print, or otherwise pass along this story, please keep this disclaimer intact to be sure the owner of these lines is appropriately credited.

Without further adieu...

Very slowly – but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill – Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now, I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher – the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But–" said Harry.

He wanted Sirius to stay. He did not want to have to say goodbye again so quickly.

"You'll see me very soon, Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah... Of course I do."

Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the big black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... If you are prepared..."

"I am," said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

Harry knew that look. That was fear and resignation. The look of one who knew they were about to suffer greatly.

Images from the graveyard flashed through Harry's mind. He saw the Death Eaters cowering before Voldemort. Avery fell under the Cruciatus curse. Voldemort worked his way around the circle of men, listing the failures and shortcomings of each...

"You have disappointed me... I expect more faithful service in the future."

"...The Lestranges will be honored beyond their wildest dreams."

"Macnair... destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic... You shall have better victims..."

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters... Three dead in my service. One too cowardly to return... he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever... he will be killed, of course... and one who remains my most faithful servant..."

"One, who I believe has left me forever... he will be killed, of course..."

"he will be killed, of course..."

Harry did some of the fastest math of his life and, considering his current mental state, thought he should have earned points for it. If Snape was a Death Eater as he seemed to be, and Karkaroff had really fled... Thirteen Death Eaters, not counting Wormtail. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Avery, Macnair, the Lestranges, and Crouch. Three unnamed men were dead, that left the one "too cowardly to return," and the one who would be killed. One was Karkaroff, the other would be...

"Professor!" Harry called after the man whose hand was already on the doorknob. "Professor Snape! Wait, please."

Harry started to stand, but Dumbledore pressed back on his shoulders. When Harry didn't speak again, Snape pulled the door open and Harry called out wordlessly.

Dumbledore, seeing Harry's distress, spoke. "Severus, wait a moment, please."

His expression was grim, yet annoyed as he turned back towards the group. "Headmaster, every moment I delay..."

"I am aware, Severus. Just a moment more." He turned to Harry. "What is the matter, Harry?"

Harry looked at his friends, Hermione was curious, Ron confused, Mrs, Weasley looked on the verge of tears. Dumbledore just searched Harry's face, gravely. Harry still wasn't sure if he was right. If he was, could he speak in front of everyone? Finally deciding that their knowledge was less dangerous than his silence, Harry spoke.

"Professor," Harry looked toward Snape who had barely stepped into the room. "If you go to him, he will kill you. He said so."

Every trace of annoyance dropped from the professor's face. "You don't know what you're talking about, boy."

He spoke as if saying the words would make it so, and Harry knew it. The boy shook his head.

"No, professor, I know. You can't go."

The room was silent, still. When Snape spoke, the words were soft, yet echoed in the silence.

"I have to."

The professor turned to leave again and this time it was Harry whose voice cut through the silence.

With perfect tone and inflection, Harry quoted the words Voldemort had spoken in the graveyard, when he'd come to the gap in the circle.

Harry choked on the rest, but he knew it was enough.

Snape had frozen, his hand on the doorknob. He shuddered and bowed his head slowly. Harry shook too, now. Remembering that particular sentence, those words and nothing else, took more out of him than he had thought he had to give. Still, he had to be sure Snape would not try to go back and spy again, for that was surely what he did to make Dumbledore trust him so.

"Professor Snape, Voldemort," and here Snape shuddered again. The motion was so pathetic that Harry winced in sympathy. "He counted off every Death Eater tonight."

Snape turned and began walking back towards Harry as the boy spoke.

"Only three failed to show up who were not in Azkaban. Crouch, Karkaroff, and you. Crouch was the only one he wasn't planning to kill."

Dumbledore stepped back, allowing Snape to step up to Harry's bedside.

"Why would you stop me from meeting my fate? If I am to die, it is certainly no less than I deserve."

Snape's voice was cold, harsh.

"I don't want you to die," whispered Harry.

Snape snorted. "You don't even like me."

"Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I wish you dead. I don't wish anyone dead."

The tableau held for a very long time, Harry and Snape staring at one another, each as if they thought the other insane. Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley staring on, only the last with any sort of recognition in her face. Finally, Dumbledore broke into the conversation.

"You are certain of what you say, Harry? This is very important..."

"He is certain." Snape's shiver could be heard in his voice.

Dumbledore nodded respectfully at both Harry and Snape. "This changes things. Severus, I think I have a more important task for you than resuming your previous position. It will take me a few days to revise my plans." Dumbledore focused on the younger professor. "I ask you to stay in the castle until I contact you again. I need you close by."

Snape nodded at what was a dismissal and swiftly left the room.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry – take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later." He half turned, then paused and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You did a good thing tonight, Harry. This turn of events has set us back a bit, and Professor Snape is not likely to thank you for this, but you were right not to let him go to his death. Thank you."

With that, Dumbledore left as well. Ron looked dumbstruck and Hermione was looking off into space as if she'd just remembered something. She wandered away as Mrs. Weasley settled on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Drink your potion, Harry, and get some sleep," said Mrs. Weasley uncomfortably but kindly. Harry felt oddly detached, almost balanced. He'd gotten Cedric killed, but he had stopped Snape from going to his death. He'd killed a friend and saved an enemy. Did that balance things?

He had a horrible feeling it didn't. He rather thought saving Snape had made things worse, but he couldn't bring himself to be sorry for his actions. No one deserved to die by Voldemort's hand.

Harry sighed and wished silently that Ron and Mrs. Weasley would stop looking at him that way. The look wasn't pity, but it was very close to it. The last thing Harry deserved was pity.

Mrs. Weasley pressed the cup of potion into his hands and just as he raised it, he heard a crash from behind him. He whipped around to see Hermione standing by the window looking sheepish.

"Sorry," whispered Hermione.

"Your potion," Mrs. Weasley insisted and Harry drank it in one gulp, too numb at the moment to even taste it. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over him: he fell back into his pillows and thought no more.

End Quotation. Here the actual story starts. Everything else from the end of Goblet of Fire remains as J. K. Rowling wrote it with the exception (obviously) of Harry's musings about how tired Snape looked and wondering about the man's position as a spy. I saw no need to re-type all of that. The next part picks up summer after fourth year and then the actual story starts.