“Very good, Harry. Again! Legilimens! No, not like that, your emotions flared up. Is something wrong?” Snape asked.

Harry tapped his head. “The owls. Why aren’t they here yet?” He asked, touching his scar. The pain flared, brighter than ever.

He closed his eyes as they brightened. Magnus took control, and hid his glowing green eyes with his hands. “Voldemort announced that the battle would be today. It’s late noon by now. Shouldn’t the owls be arriving?”

Snape gave a small smile. A smile a father gave to a naive child. “Don’t worry about it so much, Harry. It could have been a bluff, or a scare tactic. Those who rule do so using fear, and none are more practiced than the dark lord.” He said

Harry shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. If he wanted to he could just kill the wizards of the ministry to send a message. It’s almost as if, almost as if he wanted his opponents all in one place.” He realized.

He saw Snape stiffen. “And why would the dark lord be in need of such a thing?”

“If his enemies are in one place, they can’t defend everywhere else. Voldemort doesn’t make empty threats, he never did in the wizarding war and should not start now without reason. He would attack unless he had a reason. A better…”

“A better target.” Snape said, his eyes widening. “Harry Potter, the boy who lived. With him he could force the current minister of magic to make any concessions, holding the future of the wizarding world in his hands. Harry Potter, who is destined to defeat him. The only son of Lily Potter, who once defeated him.”

“Where is Dumbledore?” They said at the same time.

Snape stood up. “Follow me, Harry. We must see him immediately.” As if answering him, a voice boomed throughout the school.

“Attention, students and teachers of Hogwarts. The school is under attack by Death Eaters. Please remain calm, and retreat into your common rooms.” Dumbledore’s voice came. A voice amplifying spell, no doubt. A strong one.

Snape grasped his wand. “Follow me, Harry. We need to get to the common room.”

“Would you like an escort?” A voice came, soft yet terrifying. It sounded like a harp after being broken, a sad, echoing scream of snapping strings.

A woman walked in. But maybe woman wasn’t a fitting name for the thing, whatever it was. It’s body was silver, carved elaborately like some statue. Her face seemed like ivory, and her eyes were marble. But there was emotion on that face. A silent laugh of mocking and derision that was all too real.

“Impossible. You’re dead, Bellatrix.” Snape whispered.

She laughed, her voice sounding like glass breaking. “Darling, you have no idea what’s possible. The Dark Lord has returned me from the grave. Now, would you be a dear and hand over young Harry, was it? The Dark Lord would like to have him. Maybe bring him yourself, I do imagine you would like to be a Death Eater, no?”

Snape muttered something under his breath. In a fluid motion, he lowered his wand. Bellatrix laughed again, making Harry want to cover his ears. She stepped forward, her face twisting into a grin. “Oh, what was that? I’m afraid I didn’t hear.”

Her face became blank. It happened in a split second, so quick Harry could barely understand what was happening. She jerked once, then froze. “Imperius curse! Professor Snape! That’s illegal, highly illegal!” Harry shouted.

“Who are the rest of the death eaters with you?” Snape asked. He gave no sign of hearing him.

“Rodolphus, Antonin, Augustus.” Bellatrix seemed to awaken for a brief second. Snape tilted his head.

“Is that all?” He asked.

Bellatrix muttered something under her breath. Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Answer me! Is that all?”

Her eyes glazed over, and her muttering became louder. Snape walked forward, pointing his wand. “Ex-” His mouth froze. He jumped back, pushing Harry to the ground as a killing curse flashed by.

Bellatrix snarled, her wand raised in the air. “Well, well, well, look what we have here. Severus Snape, risking his neck for the son of his childhood bully. Who could have guessed?”

Harry gulped as she saw Snape’s eyes. They bore none of the pain or awkwardness of the day he had seen him break down in front of Lily. They were dark, covered in shadows that seemed to siphon the heat from the air. “Not me, not me.” He admitted, raising his wand.

She spat on the ground in front of him. “It’s the mudblood bitch again, isn’t it? Do you find her more erotic now that she’s spread her legs for the boy’s father?”

The emotions seemed to drain away into the air as Snape looked on with a silent glare. If looks could kill, Bellatrix would have died a hundred times over. But there was no rage in those eyes, only a wordless promise of death.

“Willing to die for her? How chivalrous. You are really twice the fool we all believed. If you had half a brain you would have brewed a love potion for her already. Less work and more willingness, now wouldn’t that benefit us all?” She mocked.

Snape’s face was the mask of death itself. Light began running up his wand.