FIC: The Revenant, Chapters 10-11 of 13

[geri_chan]

Title: The Revenant, Chapters 10-11
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~5,070
Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for Hob, who belongs to William Mayne, and Death, who belongs to Neil Gaiman; no money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Warning: AU; written pre-HBP
Sequel to:  Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising, and Aftermaths.
Summary: Snape and his companions search for a way to defeat the Revenant; Dylan attempts to escape, and awakens the darker side of the Revenant.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2a, Chapter 2b, Chapters 3-5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapters 8-9

***

Chapter 10: Preparations

Meanwhile, in the Snape Manor library, Snape and his companions continued to pore over various Necromancy and Dark Arts texts.

"'Necromancy is the art of death and darkness, and thus must be countered by the essence of life and light,'" Theodore said, reading from one of the texts. "It says that phoenix feathers and unicorn hair or horn can be used to create protective charms against Necromancy."

"Very good, Theo," Lupin said approvingly. "I can make a quick stop at Hogwarts; I'm sure that Fawkes will be willing to contribute a few feathers, and Hagrid can probably give us some unicorn hair."

"There's something in here about how to destroy Inferi," Blaise said hopefully, looking up from his book. "Do you think that might help?"

"What's an Inferi?" Harry asked.

"The term is plural," Snape replied impatiently. "They are corpses raised by Dark Magic, but they are like puppets under the control of the wizard who raised them. They have no consciousness or memory of their past lives as a Revenant does. The Dark Lord used them often during the first war, to devastating effect."

"Oh, they're like zombies," Harry said.

"A crude Muggle term," Snape disdainfully, "but essentially, yes. And no, Mr. Zabini, I do not think that would be helpful as Rabastan's body is still alive, even though James is dead."

"Of course," Blaise said sheepishly.

"But he might be on the right track," Prospero said thoughtfully. "If we could destroy Rabastan's body, then James would have nothing to possess."

Lupin frowned disapprovingly. "I think it would be better if we could capture him alive, but if there is no other choice..."

"But what would happen to my dad if Lestrange is killed?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I believe that his spirit would simply be cast out of Rabastan's body," Snape replied, looking a little uncertain. "It is rumored that a Revenant can possess and animate a dead corpse, though, so simply killing Rabastan might not be enough."

"But if we could destroy his body completely, perhaps incinerate it--" Theodore said eagerly, as Harry looked a little queasy.

"Then James would have no physical vessel to possess," Snape finished. "However, his spirit would not be destroyed. He would be less dangerous without a body, but even disembodied, a spirit can still find ways to meddle in the mortal world. Not to mention that eventually he might be able to find a way to to possess someone else. I would not feel safe with Potter's spirit at large; we must find some way to banish him completely."

"I've found a few exorcism spells," Branwen said. "They aren't specifically intended for a Revenant, though. The stronger the will of the spirit, the harder it is to banish it, and the will of a wizard is much stronger than that of a normal human. Not to mention that James was incredibly stubborn and strong-willed, even as wizards go. The most effective way to get a spirit to move on is to convince it to do so willingly, to complete whatever unfinished business it was that kept the spirit bound to the mortal world in the first place. For example, there are stories of the spirits of murder victims lingering on, then vanishing when their killers are finally brought to justice."

"What James wants is revenge against me," Snape said sourly. "And I'd rather not get killed, if it's all the same to you."

"Do you think we could trick James into moving on?" Blaise asked doubtfully. "Perhaps have Harry and Professor Snape stage a duel where Harry pretends to kill the Professor?"

"James Potter might not have been very bright," Selima said dryly, "but I don't think that he's that stupid."

"He wasn't stupid," Sirius said, glaring at Selima. "Just stubborn and narrow-minded." He sighed, and the anger drained out of his face. "Like I used to be. Maybe I can reason with him somehow..."

"I think that I have to convince my dad that he's wrong about me turning against him," Harry said earnestly. "I have to persuade him to move on. That's the only way."

"Hmm..." Snape said as he read a passage in a Necromancy text.

"What is it, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"I think that Mr. Potter is indeed the one who will have to persuade James Potter to move on--willingly or unwillingly," Snape replied. "This book states that the blood relative of a Revenant is able to combat it more effectively than someone who shares no blood ties with the spirit. There's a story here about a young witch who was able to banish the spirit of an ancestor who had become a Revenant. It is hearsay, though..."

"Does it say how she banished him, Father?" Theodore asked eagerly.

"Yes, she used a very powerful exorcism spell," Snape said. "It's even recorded in this book--a rather long and complicated Latin incantation, but I think that Potter junior should be able to memorize it if he studies it carefully."

"That's great!" Theodore said, sounding relieved.

"Let me see the incantation, then," Harry said, trying not to take offense at the disparaging tone of Snape's voice.

"The problem is," Snape continued, "that the Revenant must be bound within a Circle of Power for the incantation to work."

"A circle of what?" Harry asked.

Snape opened his mouth, but before he could make another sarcastic remark, Lupin quickly explained, "It's something like the protective circles that you use in Summoning spells. It's a circle of magical runes that keeps whatever's inside it confined and unable to move beyond the circle."

"Unfortunately, I doubt that James will hold still while we draw the circle around him," Snape said dryly. "If we knew where he was planning to meet us, we could draw the circle in advance and attempt to lure him into it, as the witch in this story did. However, since we don't know where the exchange of hostages will take place, that will probably not be possible. We'll have to find a way to immobilize James first."

"With so many of us against just one of him, we would normally be able to take him easily--if he didn't have Dylan as a hostage," Branwen said.

"We must find a way to free Dylan before we can engage in combat with James," Lupin said unhappily. "I'm sure he knows that, and I doubt that he'll give up his hostage without a fight."

Harry was suddenly struck by an idea. "What about my Invisibility Cloak?" he asked excitedly. "One of you could use it to sneak up on James...on Dad...while the rest of us distract him! You could free Dylan, and then we could stun my dad without hurting him, and I could explain things to him, and maybe he would move on willingly without my needing to cast the exorcism spell."

"A bit overoptimistic, Potter," Snape said skeptically. "But I'll concede that your idea about the cloak is a good one."

"I'll still memorize the spell, just in case," Harry assured him. "But I hope that we won't need it."

"We'll have to decide which of us should use the cloak," Lupin said. "James will obviously be suspicious if you and I aren't there, Severus, and I'm sure that he expects Sirius to be there as well..."

"I could do it," Theodore instantly volunteered. "He probably won't expect me to be there."

"That's because you won't be," Snape said sternly. "You're going to remain here at Snape Manor where it's safe."

"But Dylan's my brother!" Theodore protested.

"Yes, and I don't want both of my sons being put in danger!" Snape retorted.

Prospero cleared his throat and interrupted, "Perhaps I could assist you, then, Severus."

"Or I," Branwen said.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Lady Branwen," Selima said, frowning. "You're pregnant, aren't you? Dark Magic could have a harmful effect on the baby in your womb. I know that you are a formidable mage, but if one stray spell struck you...there are tales of babies being born twisted and deformed because their mothers were the victims of Dark curses..."

Branwen turned pale and laid her hands on her stomach, a look of mingled fear and anger and frustration spreading across her face. "Then--"

"You can stay here and keep Theodore company," Snape said with an ironic smile. "I'm sorry, Branwen. I would love to have your help, but it's not worth the risk."

Harry gave his stepmother a sympathetic look, but he couldn't help but feel that there was a bit of poetic justice in this, as he remembered how many times he had been told to stay behind or not ask questions because it was "too dangerous."

She must have picked up on his thoughts, because she smiled at him ruefully and sighed, "Well, now I know how you must have felt, Harry," and Harry smiled back at her, a little guiltily.

"I would feel better knowing that you will be here to protect Theodore," Selima said tactfully. "I don't think that Potter will try to attack the Manor, but one never knows."

"Mother, perhaps you should stay behind as well," Snape said.

"No," Selima said, quietly but firmly. "The Revenant is not to be underestimated. You'll need all the help you can get, and Dylan is kin."

Snape was a little surprised. There were no blood ties between Dylan and Selima, but she had grown fond of him, and it seemed that she had decided to accept him as family. "Is that why you let the mutt stay?" he asked, glancing down at Cabal, who wagged his tail.

"I don't approve of having pets in the Manor," Selima replied, sighing a little. "Except for the owls, of course. But the dog was wounded in defense of your foster son, Severus, so he has earned his place here." Lupin grinned widely in spite of his worry, and Snape gave him a faint smile in return.

"Very well, then," Snape said. "Mother shall accompany myself, Lupin, Black, and Potter. And Prospero, if you are willing--"

"Of course," Prospero said, bowing his head.

"Then you can use the cloak to free Dylan, as you proposed," Snape continued. "I think that would be ideal, as I doubt that Potter senior will be expecting you to be involved."

"What about me?" Blaise asked.

"You will remain here with Theodore and Branwen," Snape said firmly.

"But--"

"The subject is not open to debate," Snape said in his most implacable Potions Master's voice.

Theodore reached out and took Blaise's hand. "I wish that I could go help Dylan, too," he said quietly. "But since I can't, please stay with me."

"All right," Blaise said reluctantly, but he looked up and gave his former teacher a surprisingly defiant look. "But we aren't children anymore, you know." To his surprise, Snape looked approving and a little amused rather than angry.

"Yes, I suppose I must remind myself that you will soon be one of my colleagues rather than my student," Snape said. "But indulge me this once, Zabini."

"It's not that we doubt your abilities, or Theo's," Lupin gently explained. "Perhaps it's selfish of us, but it will be easier for us if the two of you are not there. For Severus and I, Theo will always be our child no matter how old he is, and I'm sure that your grandfather feels much the same about you, Blaise. Perhaps we shouldn't, but if you came with us, we could not help but worry about you."

"It would be a distraction," Snape said gruffly. "Potter wouldn't be going either if we didn't need him."

"How sweet of you to be worried about Harry, Severus," Lupin cooed.

"Oh, shut up, Lupin."

Selima gave her son and his lover an annoyed look, then said to Blaise and Theodore, "There will be six of us to combat the Revenant. That should be more than enough."

"What about calling in the Aurors?" Harry asked.

"Well, technically we should notify them," Branwen admitted, "but..."

"If we show up with an army, Potter might get spooked and run, and take Dylan with him," Snape said. "Besides, I'm not sure that I trust the Ministry with my son's life. I have not been impressed with their efforts in the past."

"Well, not Fudge's former lackeys," Sirius agreed, "but maybe Tonks and Kingsley..."

"Most of these books are proscribed by the Ministry," Selima said, motioning to the Dark Arts and Necromancy texts scattered across the table. "The Aurors would be obligated to confiscate them at the very least, and perhaps to charge us with possessing prohibited items. And there is also the possibility that we may be required to use Dark Magic to combat the Revenant, which the Aurors are forbidden to use."

"Um..." Harry said uneasily, remembering that he was scheduled to start Auror training soon.

Branwen smiled at him. "You aren't an Auror yet, Harry," she said. "As these books and spells are being used in Dylan's defense, I think that it would be all right for you to overlook it this once."

"And for you to forget that these books exist once this is all over," Snape added, giving Harry a threatening look that seemed to suggest that he would be willing to speed the process along with an Obliviate spell if necessary.

But Lupin just grinned and winked at Harry, and Sirius smiled and nodded slightly, so Harry asked innocently, "What books, Professor?"

Snape snorted, then set the Necromancy text he had been reading in front of Harry. "Study that incantation, Potter," he said curtly, and Harry obeyed.

"It might be wise to keep the Aurors in reserve, though," Lupin said gravely. "If...if we don't come back..."

"Remus," Theodore said, looking alarmed.

"Though I'm sure that everything will be all right," Lupin hastily added, but Theodore did not look reassured.

"I'll send Bane with you," Branwen said. "If it looks like things are not going well, he will alert me, and I will send the Aurors in."

"If things 'aren't going well,' then I'm coming after you!" Theodore said fiercely.

"You will do no such thing," Snape snapped. "You are the Snape heir, and it is your duty to preserve your life, that the Snape line might continue."

Theodore did not argue further, but it was obvious from the stubborn look in his eyes that he was not going to tamely stay put at home if the worst happened, and Snape just sighed in resignation.

"By the way, Professor," Harry asked Snape hesitantly. "Why is it that my father looks like himself when he's in Lestrange's body? Is it some kind of Transfiguration magic, or is it an illusion?"

"I don't really know," Snape admitted reluctantly. "When a spirit possesses a host, the host body begins to resemble that of the spirit's original body, to a greater or lesser degree. It's believed to be a manifestation of the spirit's will, so it is probably more of an illusion than an actual physical Transfiguration. But no one knows for certain, because the host body always reverts back to normal after the spirit is exorcised, and for obvious reasons, it's very difficult to examine the host body while the spirit is still possessing it."

"You know, that reminds me," Prospero said, frowning. "James Potter might be in control, but it's actually Lestrange's body that he's using. And if I am not mistaken, there is no blood relation between Rabastan and young Harry. Will that business about using a blood relative to combat the Revenant still apply?"

"I believe so," Snape replied.

"You 'believe so'?" Sirius asked with a scowl. "If we're putting Harry at risk, you ought to be damn certain about it, Snape!"

"I told you before, Black, there is very little reliable information about Revenants available, as none have been seen for hundreds of years!" Snape snapped.

"Sirius, it's okay," Harry said urgently, reaching out to place a hand on his godfather's arm, to both reassure and restrain him. "I have to come along anyway, remember, because my dad said he'd hurt Dylan unless they brought me to him. And...I want to help Dad as well as Dylan. I don't want him just to be exorcised and banished. If I can, I want to help him be at peace with himself before he moves on."

Sirius's eyes filled with tears and he said quietly, "I guess I can't argue with that." He hugged his godson tightly and whispered, "I'm very proud of you, Harry."

Lupin smiled at the pair tenderly, and Snape waited several moments before clearing his throat and saying sardonically, "This is all very touching, but if we could get back to work, please?"

Sirius released Harry, laughing a little shakily as he brushed the tears from his eyes. Harry smiled at Snape, then picked up the Necromancy text and resumed studying the incantation.

"Cheeky Gryffindor brat," Snape muttered under his breath, and Lupin leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

***

Chapter 11: The Taste of Blood

After pacing around nervously and carrying on a one-sided (at least from Dylan's point of view) argument with Rabastan, James finally left the Shrieking Shack to deliver a message to Snape and Remus. Left alone, Dylan struggled desperately with his bonds, but the knots refused to loosen and he succeeded only in chafing his wrists. Dylan tried reciting charms to loosen the ropes that bound him, but they proved ineffective without his wand. He cursed under breath, wishing that he had the ability to work wandless magic like the Japanese shapeshifters...and then he cursed himself again for being an idiot. There was one type of wandless magic that most wizards could work--Apparition! It didn't require a wand or an incantation, simply focus and concentration. And the spell instantaneously moved the caster from one spot to another, so it shouldn't matter that he was bound--at least Dylan hoped not. He closed his eyes and concentrated very hard, picturing Remus's cottage in his mind, imagining it down to the smallest detail, from the faded, peeling paint on the walls to the threadbare upholstery on the couch. With all his might, he willed himself to move from "here" to "there"...but nothing happened. No cracking sound, no sudden stomach-wrenching feeling of disorientation, nothing. Disappointed, Dylan opened his eyes to find himself still inside the Shrieking Shack. He tried several more times to Disapparate, but his efforts were futile. Either he couldn't work the spell while bound, or it was too far a distance for him to Apparate, or more likely, the wards James had cast were preventing it.

If he was to escape, it would have to be by more mundane means. Dylan searched among the debris on the floor and found a piece of glass that had probably come from one of the broken windows, which had since been boarded up. Clutching it awkwardly with his fingers, he attempted to saw at the ropes binding his wrists, which was a rather difficult process, not just because his movement was limited but because he couldn't see what he was doing with his hands bound behind his back. He sawed away for several minutes, and perhaps he would have been able to cut through normal ropes, but the magical bindings seemed impervious, and the only things that Dylan managed to cut were his wrists and fingers when the glass shard slipped in his hands. It became harder to clutch the glass firmly as his fingers grew slippery with blood, and he wondered if he could use that to his advantage, to use the blood as lubrication to slip his wrists free of the ropes. It was worth a try, he decided, and he gave up trying to cut the ropes. Instead he dug the piece of glass deeply into his wrist, and was rewarded with a slow stream of warm blood. Encouraged, Dylan dropped the piece of glass and began struggling with his bonds again. Was it just his imagination, or did the ropes give just the slightest bit, the slickness of the blood causing the ropes to slide down his wrists more easily?

But then hope turned to despair as James walked into the room. His eyes widened in alarm as he caught sight of Dylan's bloody wrists. "Foolish boy!" he scolded. "Magical bindings can't be broken by normal means!" He took out his wand and conjured up some bandages, then knelt down to tend to Dylan's wounds. "You didn't have to do this; I told you that I would free you after they brought Harry to me, didn't I? A Gryffindor always keeps his word."

"It's not that I doubt your word, Mr. Potter," Dylan lied. "But Remus and the Professor must be worried about me. It's my duty to free myself and get back to them if I can."

"You'll be back with them soon enough," James said gruffly. "So don't do anything stupid. Moony is so softhearted that I'm sure he'd cry if anything happened to you." His voice turned bitter and resentful. "And then he'd really never forgive me."

"Mr. Potter..." Dylan said hesitantly, wanting to reason with James, yet afraid that he might provoke the man further. From an early age, he had learned to hide his true feelings and present a smiling, serene face to the world. With his father dead and his mother disowned and disgraced, Dylan had been left with little to rely on but his looks and his charm, but he had used them to full advantage. He had been proud of his ability to charm and manipulate people, but James seemed to be immune to it. That was not really surprising, Dylan supposed, since whenever James looked at him he must see his old enemy Evan Rosier, but it made things more difficult.

"At least the cuts seem to be shallow..." James started to say, then his voice trailed off.

"Mr. Potter?" Dylan asked, twisting around slightly so he could look at James. Harry's father was staring in fascination at Dylan's bloody wrists, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips as a flash of red gleamed in his hazel eyes for just a moment. Dylan didn't know a great deal about Necromancy, but he knew that undead spirits were often summoned into this world with blood, and some of them required fresh doses of it at regular intervals to maintain their artificial life. Most spirits could not help but hunger at the sight of blood, because it was a symbol of the life that they craved for, which had been denied to them. As if in a trance, James slowly lowered his mouth and licked at the blood covering Dylan's wrists.

Dylan cried out in fear and pulled away from James, who stared at him blankly for a moment, then seemed to snap out of his trance, a look of horror filling his eyes as he realized what he had done.

James grabbed Dylan's arm and roughly hauled him to his feet. "Come on," he snapped. "You're about to get your wish--you're going to be reunited with Moony and his precious Potions Master."

***

James grabbed Dylan and hauled him to his feet, a bit more roughly than he'd intended, the taste of the blood in his mouth causing his heart to pound in fear--no, not so much the blood itself, but the craving that it had awakened in him. James knew the dangers of Dark spells: there was always a hidden cost to them, and the price for raising the dead was usually paid in blood. Blood to resurrect a dead body or spirit, and blood to sustain it. Even magic had its limits; sorcery could not be used to create new life, but it could be used to steal the life-force of one person and give it to another. That was the same principle behind the Blood Healing spell that Snape had used to save Sirius, the same principle behind all forms of Blood Magic, as a matter of fact. It was the same type of magic that Voldemort had used to increase his power to the point where he was able to cheat death--at least temporarily. James suddenly remembered Death's kind but implacable eyes; no one could cheat Death or evade her grasp forever.

Even though James now possessed a relatively young and healthy body, it was not really his, and although he was not familiar with the type of Necromancy that Rabastan had used to summon him, he instinctively realized that he was living on borrowed time and that his hold over Rabastan would eventually weaken unless he did something to strengthen it. And just as instinctively, he knew what he needed to sustain his borrowed life. He could still taste Dylan's blood in his mouth, sweet and salty, full of the essence of youth and vitality. Dylan was young and passionate, and a powerful wizard to boot; his blood could sustain James for a very long time...

James had a sudden vision of the boy lying on the floor, his throat cut and his silver-gray eyes staring up at the ceiling, lifeless and unseeing. And suddenly James dropped to his knees and vomited, his stomach churning with revulsion not just at the vision, but at the part of him that was filled with hunger and excitement by it.

"Mi...Mister Potter?" Dylan asked nervously. "Are you all right?"

{Intoxicating, isn't it?} Rabastan taunted silently. {The taste of blood, I mean. I felt the same way when I made my first kill as a Death Eater. Except that I wasn't as squeamish as you are, Potter.}

"Oh, shut up!" James snarled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," Dylan said, flinching.

"I wasn't talking to you!" James shouted, and the boy flinched again. "Oh, never mind! Let's go!"

As James grabbed Dylan's arm, Rabastan protested, {This is suicide, Potter! Do you really think that Snape is going to show up without any backup? Do you really think that he'll just roll over for you like a tame dog?}

"What do you care?" James snapped. "Don't you want your old buddy Snape to defeat me?"

{I want you out of my head, but I don't want to get killed in the process!} Rabastan wailed.

James laughed, his voice cold and filled with malice, and although he didn't realize it, his eyes gleamed red again. "Of course I expect treachery from a Slytherin snake! But let him do his worst...I'm stronger than I used to be." He laughed again. "And I do have one distinct advantage over him: I am not afraid to die because I am already dead! Everything and everyone I loved was taken from me--I have nothing left to lose!"

***

Dylan knew that a man who had nothing left to lose was very dangerous indeed. And staring into James Potter's reddened, maddened eyes, he was suddenly very afraid--not so much for himself, but for Professor Snape. The sane James Potter that Remus had known would not kill a man in cold blood, not even a former Death Eater, but the vengeful spirit standing before him might. If Snape didn't bring Harry to him as promised, Dylan had no doubt that James would try to kill him. And even if he did bring Harry, James was so crazed with anger that he might attack him anyway. Hogwarts taught that Dark Magic was forbidden, not just because the spells inflicted harm and pain, but because its very essence twisted and corrupted the person who cast them. Dylan had not believed it; his mother had taught him that Dark Magic was simply a tool to be used for his own gain, but now he began to wonder if she had been wrong. He could see the darkness growing and spreading inside James, and he began to struggle with his captor. As long as James held him hostage, Snape would have to hold back, and that might well end up getting him killed. Dylan would rather die than be responsible for the death of the man who had been a father to him in all but name.

"What are you doing?" James cried as Dylan struggled to pull out of his grasp. "I'm taking you to Snape; I thought that's what you wanted!"

"I won't let you kill my father!" Dylan screamed.

"What are you talking about, you crazy brat?" James shouted, finding it difficult to hold onto the struggling boy even though his limbs were bound. "Your father's already dead, and I'm not the one who killed him!"

"I meant the Professor!" Dylan shouted, and bit down hard when James's arm got within reach of his mouth.

James cried out in pain and shoved Dylan away from him; Dylan fell to the floor, but kicked out with his legs, causing James to stumble.

"Enough of this!" James snarled, and whipped out his wand. "Imperio!"

Paralyzed by the spell, Dylan was unable to do anything except stare up at James helplessly, his gray eyes filled with frustration and anger. This was now the second time that James had used an Unforgivable Curse on him. "You aren't the man that Remus knew," he whispered contemptuously.

"Shut up!" James said, and Dylan found himself unable to speak, although his eyes conveyed his scorn quite eloquently. "Get up," James said, and against his will, Dylan felt his body trying to obey although it was difficult with his limbs bound. James impatiently gestured with his wand, and the ropes binding Dylan's legs vanished. Dylan rose to his feet as James helped pull him up by his arm. "Come with me," James said curtly, and Dylan followed obediently, even as his mind was screaming in protest; he was beginning to understand how Rabastan must feel.

For just a moment, a frightened and despairing Rabastan seemed to look out through James's eyes, and Dylan gave him an accusing look, thinking, {This is all your fault!}

Rabastan seemed to understand his unspoken words, because he just gave Dylan a miserable look that said, {I know.}

And then Rabastan's presence vanished, and James said impatiently, "Come along, Dylan; I thought you were eager to be reunited with your 'father.'"

{I'm sorry, Professor,} Dylan said silently as he followed James.

Chapter 12a