Unforgivable Promises (Snarry story)

Chapter 2

Despite Harry's misgivings, the Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape had gone surprisingly well. Focusing on theory instead of practice, Harry had been able to get answers to some questions that Snape had simply barked at during their previous sessions. Though he had not been able to really try anything out, he thought he had a better grasp of what Snape had been showing him. Maybe if I could get him to talk about potions theory, I would do better in that class, too, Harry thought. Apparently watching Snape demonstrate a technique flawlessly then getting yelled at as he fumbled through it was not how Harry learned best.

Nothing else about the evening had gone well, though. After four hours, a few of the Order members had returned briefly then run out again with nothing new to report. Once Snape had declared that Harry was too dense to absorb any more magical theory, Harry had moved to the kitchen where he disposed of Hagrid's attempt at dinner with a cleaning spell. Having nothing else to do, Harry kept some water going for tea and set the rest of Hagrid's sausage cooking with some potatoes. Eventually, someone would return with news, good or bad, and preparing for them kept Harry from worrying too much. Snape, on the other hand, had headed to his room as soon as the lessons were concluded.

As the night wore on, Harry found it harder to distract himself from his thoughts. The water for tea eventually boiled away, and the meager meal he had prepared was resting comfortably in an enchanted warmer that could keep it fresh for several more hours. He tried tidying up but found that, since Kreacher's departure, the house had been laden with cleaning spells, so there was little need for a broom or dust-rag. With a final sigh of submission, Harry allowed his fears to surface.

With Sirius gone, Harry was again without family. Friends he had. He knew Ron and Hermione would stick with him through anything. They already had for that matter, and Harry made a mental note to do something to show his appreciation for that. They took their family for granted and likely did not understand just what they meant to him. Not that he blamed them for that. Not now, at least, though in moments of self-pity that Harry was not proud of, he had sent bitter words into the night about the injustice of losing Sirius when people like Ron were surrounded by family they spent more time complaining about, brothers and sisters, parents, aunts and uncles, cousins and distant relatives, than appreciating them.

As much as he enjoyed the Weasley family and their love and attention, they would always remain his friend's family. Harry loved and respected Dumbledore, but not the way he loved Sirius. Dumbledore was too distant to be thought of as family. Tonks and Moody were great in a pinch, but neither was the type or person you could spend hours talking to about the kinds of things he shared with Sirius. The only person in his life he thought he could look up to like that was Remus. And now he, too, may be lost.

Damn Voldemort! Harry cried silently. Damn him for taking everything from me. Damn him!

Harry's mind clouded with anger and hatred. Swept up into his righteous anger, Harry barely felt his scar burning until his vision darkened, and he found himself once again in the familiar and terrifying mind of his enemy.

The small circular room was dank and moldy, and no windows interrupted the stone surfaces surrounding him. Through the room's only door, a masked Death Eater approached hesitantly. Harry felt a haughty sneer curl his lips as he recognized the fear oozing through the robes and mask. He could smell it on the air, see it in the slight tremble of the robes. He waited for his servant to speak. Fear this strong meant his servant had failed at something and expected punishment. He knew he would be angry shortly, but for now, he enjoyed the rank odor of terror in the room.

"Forgive me, Master." The masked wizard tried to keep his voice steady. Voldemort fed on fear but grew annoyed when his followers indulged too much in the weakness. "Something went wrong with our plans tonight. The girl was stronger than we'd expected. Others from the Order arrived, and she escaped. We chased one of them into a cave, though. That cursed werewolf." The Death Eater's voice grew steadier. He had survived the news about their failed mission; no doubt he hoped that the following good news would allow him to escape punishment. A foolish hope. Voldemort never forgot to punish. "We have anti-Apparating charms on the cave. He cannot escape. I left two guards on the cave and returned for reinforcements. We tried to go in after him ourselves, but the mouth is too narrow to evade his spells."