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The Plan by memory [Reviews - 2]

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The Plan
by Memory

What if Snape hadn’t really been following any one of his masters but a stronger, mysterious inspiration? A dark tribute to the ambiguous Snape we used to know. HBP compliant.

Disclaimer: I don’t obviously own anyone of the characters in this story, even if I would like to.

Important: : All my sincere thanks go to my fantastic betas, Jynx67, Pennfana and Notsosaintly, and to those reading my story.

7. Actions
“There is not always just one answer to a question”


His watery eyes flashing with excitement, Peter “Wormtail” Pettigrew emerged from behind a rock, holding his wand triumphantly. “Ah, I never ever would have thought to see this!” He chuckled, looking irritatingly amused. “Just imagine Severus Snape, the great Severus Snape, knocked down by a boy, almost a child. Amazing! Even if it must be said that the name of the boy is Harry Potter. I wonder what James would…” His voice trailed off and he suddenly looked embarrassed.

“You wonder?” Snape replied silkily, an alarming light glowing in his eyes. “I’m glad you are still able to think! I would find it difficult if I persistently shrunk my brain to the size of a rat’s, as you do!”

“Hey, that’s not nice. At least you should thank me for…” The little man began to protest with his acute, querulous voice.

“How long have you been hiding here?” Snape cut him off harshly. The idea of Wormtail witnessing his torture was extremely disagreeable, but the possibility that he had heard Hermione’s words was even worse, probably lethal. He cursed inwardly while he tried to find a way to make the other wizard unsuspectingly and voluntarily tell him the truth.

In the meantime, his potential traitor seemed to meditate carefully on an answer. “Quite a long time,” he finally admitted grudgingly. “Long before you entered the cave. I was… I was in disguise, as always. I couldn’t risk being detected.”

“I see,” Snape replied coldly. “So, did you enjoy the spectacle?”

As he had imagined, Wormtail was ready to take the opportunity and say something nasty to his old, detested schoolmate.

“Quite a show, don’t you think?” Peter smirked, and again he chuckled. “Harry has a lot to learn, but he is quick, and I’m sure that, in a year or two, he could really become a threat. Today, regrettably, he was only lucky.”

He winked conspiratorially at Snape, as if they were both enjoying a joke; then he added with undeniable satisfaction, “I must say that I’d really begun to worry when I saw all that blood on your face! I was afraid that I would be forced to reveal myself, you know, and I didn’t want to.”

Peter stopped and seemed to consider carefully what he had just said. “Pretty painful thing, huh? I thought you were going to die from shaking.” Wormtail had a cruel little smile; then he asked, interested, “But what did you do to the girl? I saw her kneeling besides you, and then she was again on her feet, in tears. You injured her hand, didn’t you?” The little man frowned, trying to focus his memories before smiling again, provokingly. “That wasn’t very polite on your part, Snape, you should have been nicer to her. Such a lovely girl! And seemed so willing to help you…”

Wormtail waited for a reaction, a galling smile still playing on his lips. Snape didn’t even seem to notice, nor did he care to answer. His highly organized mind was working busily, weighing probabilities. Perhaps not only Harry Potter had been lucky this day! It should have been difficult to watch the scene properly from the point of view of the rat Wormtail had transformed into, so there might be a hope that what had really happened wasn't so easily discovered.

Feeling a bit relieved, Snape focused on preventing his companion from more accurately elaborating his memories, while possibly trying to make them even more confused. In the meantime, unaware he was the subject of such attentive considerations, and surprised for not receiving the sharp reply he had expected, Wormtail nervously licked his lips and began to complain, sounding contemporarily resentful and agitated.

“It took you long enough to get here! Perhaps if you had arrived earlier, you could have avoided them. Now we are awfully late. We must leave immediately! The master is not going to be pleased, absolutely not, believe me. He easily loses his temper these days. So I warn you, be prepared.”

The little wizard seemed genuinely scared, but his final words strikingly reminded Snape of his last, terrible encounter with the Dark Lord, and he felt a deep rage rising inside. Gritting his teeth, he turned to Wormtail, a sneer on his face. “Perhaps you should help me release the tension, then? A bit of exercise would do.” He raised his wand intentionally.

“What… what do you mean, Snape?” Wormtail yelped in fear. “Don’t you dare touch me or the master, the master will…” He hesitated, knowing too well the Dark Lord grimly enjoyed humiliating his “first and most loyal servant”, as Wormtail never ceased to proclaim himself.

The little wizard swallowed thickly, bitterly aware of his master’s contempt; this was a shame he felt acutely and totally undeserved, because he, and himself only, had been the cause of the Dark Lord’s rebirth! It had been his sacrifice that had allowed his master to take a newly created human form and regain his immense power. His silvery hand was there to prove it! But nobody seemed to acknowledge his merit, and this desolate sensation of injustice gave him the force to scold his otherwise frightening companion.

“You should be grateful, you know, Snape? I’m not as stupid as you think! I’ve perfectly understood that you weren’t able to fight the boy because there was something controlling you. Surely a sort of spell the master cast, wasn’t it? He told me to watch over you carefully, but he was laughing as he said that.”

Wormtail looked expectantly at the other wizard, waiting for a word of thanks or an explanation that obviously didn’t come. Therefore, curling his lips in a pout like a disappointed child, he went on in his reproach. “So… so you should be grateful that I was there! Without my help, Harry could have probably killed you!”

The little man was passionate in his resentment, but almost immediately, he deflated himself and admitted with a discomforted sigh, “But no, no… he would have probably spared you anyway.”

“How do you know?” Snape inquired sharply, arching an eyebrow. He didn’t really mean to pose that question, but somehow, he felt strangely compelled to ask. A hint of the supernatural power that had so strongly manifested itself in the cave was still there, vibrating in painful, disturbing empathy with the miserable creature standing in front of him. This unusual sensation was disconcerting Snape, making him feel vulnerable.

“I know him better than you do!” A sparkle of cunning, weirdly mixed with pride, twinkled in Wormtail’s eyes. “After all, I stayed in Gryffindor Tower for three long years, listening to their private talks, even sleeping in their beds! I know all the nasty names they’ve called you, and believe me, you would never imagine how delightfully creative their imagination has been! Unfortunately, I wasn't able to suggest some other nice ideas to them, eh, Snivellus?”

“You are walking on a dangerous path,“ Snape warned him icily.

“Oh, now it’s easy for you to be sarcastic, isn’t it? But you weren’t so bold before when you were shaking on the ground and…” With a quick glance at his companion, Wormtail immediately changed topic. “Well, didn’t I help you with the phoenix? Quite a masterpiece, wasn’t it? I’ve improved in Transfiguration a lot since school! Pity I couldn’t give it a voice, but it was too risky. It’s practically impossible to simulate its song!” Wormtail looked at Snape, pathetically expecting a word of approval.

“Ah, yes, the phoenix!” Snape exclaimed contemptuously. “A masterwork indeed! You didn’t fool me, and I’m sure you absolutely didn’t fool the girl. She is too brilliant for these stupid little tricks of yours. Why didn’t you stop the boy, instead?”

“The Master has forbidden us to hurt him, as you should very well know,” Wormtail replied, looking irritated. “And then… and then, there are other personal reasons why I can’t… I mean, I couldn’t, unless I was really obliged to. And your personal defeat isn’t compelling enough.”

“You mean you are still loyal to the friend you killed, so much that you feel the need to protect his son?” Snape asked ironically.

“What the hell are you saying, Snape?” exclaimed Peter agitatedly.

“Potter was your friend!” the other wizard declared harshly.


“No, James wasn’t really my friend, nor was Sirius!” Wormtail replied in a cry of anguish. “All they wanted was to have an audience, somebody who admired them in awe and admitted he was inferior, applauding their stunning ability. An affectionate sycophant, that’s what I was to them.”

Lowering his voice with a sigh, Wormtail seemed to be lost in his memories, prisoner of the cave’s strange atmosphere. “Not like Remus. Remus… he was different. Because he, too, knew what it meant to be lonely… and despised. But he was too intelligent for me, and too loyal to the others. Otherwise, he could have joined us, being a werewolf.”

“So, this is the reason why you offered Potter to the Dark Lord? A revenge for all the times you supported him while playing Quidditch?” Snape enquired with a twisted smile.

Wormtail blushed unpleasantly and shook his head, rubbing his silvery hand in torment. “No, no, that's not true. I thought that someday James and the Dark Lord were going to confront each other. It couldn’t be avoided. So, I just helped to make it happen.”

Unexpectedly, he cried in desperation. “Don’t you understand? In any case, they were doomed! Sooner or later, even without me, they would have had to meet the Dark Lord again. It had already happened thrice, and they had always survived! Why not this time? James was so brave… and Lily was so clever!”

He met Snape’s cold, unfriendly eyes and turned his head, his voice beginning to break. “And after all, what about you? Their death is mostly your fault! You heard the prophecy and you told the master about it. He went mad and devoted himself to their pursuit. At that time, I didn’t know anything, I was lonely and helpless against his power. Really, what could I have done?”

Wormtail shivered in agony as he lowered his head and his voice. “You gave them to the master, Snape. It was you, not me. If you hadn’t rushed to tell him what you had heard, he would have never known. James and Lily would still be alive. You did it, Snape! And Sirius, too! He knew I was too frightened. I could never resist such temptation. He shouldn’t have asked me to become James’ Secret Keeper! Why does everybody think I’m the only one to blame?”

He was nearly crying. “They were doomed, even without me!” he frantically repeated.

“You are just a miserable, pitiful coward!” murmured Snape in disgust while Wormtail, trembling feverishly, buried his face in his hands. “I wonder how the master tolerates your filthy hands on him!”

“What are you saying? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” The little wizard seemed to explode again. “YOU are a coward more than I am! It's been easy for you, hasn’t it? With Dumbledore’s protection, you escaped Azkaban and even found a job! An ex-Death Eater turning into a highly regarded professor, teaching children, the best wizarding families’ offspring! Unbelievable, don’t you think? And then as soon as you had the chance, you became a spy again. But loyal to whom? You have always been ready to switch sides, changing your robes according to place and circumstance! So you have been constantly betraying everybody around you, and finally you even killed Dumbledore, who had incredibly trusted you till his end. And now you dare to ask how the Dark Lord has been able to tolerate me?”

Snape paled and automatically tightened his hand on his wand, but Wormtail continued implacably. “Face it, Snape! It could have been you in my place! Why, if the Hat had sorted you in Gryffindor and me in Slytherin, it could have been you courting James and Sirius for their friendship! And then what would you have done? Would you have sacrificed yourself and your hopes to save them from the Dark Lord? No, I know you too well. You didn’t have friends and you never had any because your ambitions have always been much more important to you! Be honest, Snape, at least with me!”

Tears were shining in the little wizard’s eyes, and he wasn’t making any effort to hide them. The strange, mysterious force still glowing in the cave vibrated one more time then brusquely vanished, dissolving under a wave of ferociously distorted passions and leaving the man and his emotions completely exposed. Unbidden, Snape was offered a quick glimpse of Peter Pettigrew’s personal hell. Hate, fear, hypocrisy, weakness, betrayal, desperation; a wicked combination that mirrored Snape’s private feelings in recent days, a highly unpleasant experience that forced him to face again his own recurring anguishes.

The two men stood silent for the space of few heartbeats. Then Snape dispersed all those disturbing emotions with determination and stared firmly at Peter, his hand still tightened on his wand.

“Well,” he said quietly, “we have already wasted precious time, so let’s finish this disgusting exhibition and go where we are awaited. Or have you messages that you can simply tell me here?”

Raising his head in anger, eyes reddened by tears, Wormtail looked at him with impotent hate and replied coldly, “No, the master is waiting for you. He is surely going to punish you for being late. Of course, I will be too, but for you, it will be worse. And hopefully, nobody will be there to help you this time.”

Snape stared at him impassively; then he asked softly, “Where are we going?”

A malignant expression on his face, Peter said venomously, “The master doesn’t want you to know. You’ll have to Side-Apparate with me… like a Squib, Snape!”

“Then let me take your arm, Wormtail,” Snape answered calmly, deliberately accentuating his name. “I’ll ask the master’s permission to clean myself after our arrival.”

Peter opened his eyes and mouth as if he had been hit, clenching his fists while he tried to find a retort. Then, ceding to his anger, he suddenly lifted his wand with a terrible expression of hatred. Snape expected it, and was ready to react. With a sharp, “Expelliarmus,” Peter’s wand flew away, and the little wizard fell on the ground, screaming in fear.

“For Merlin’s sake, Severus!” Peter pleaded with a glint of terror in his eyes. He stretched his silvery hand out to protect himself while Snape slowly advanced towards him, a cruel, vindictive smile on his lips. “Please don’t! Please! Please!”

Snape stopped and lowered his wand with a sneer, waiting for the frightened man to get on his feet. Lost and humiliated, blinded by tears flowing freely down his cheeks, Wormtail felt the ground with his hands to find his wand, then raised himself painfully and finally stood up, head lowered in defeat, not even daring to look at the other wizard.

“Now, are you ready to go, or is there something else you would like to add?” Snape asked coldly, a menacing sparkle in his eyes.

The little man shook his head miserably, sniffling and wiping his tears. Slowly, hesitantly, he approached his companion and silently waited for his decision. With a violent effort, Snape checked his emotions and recovered his mental control, preparing to meet his master. But as soon as he put his hand on Peter’s trembling arm, a terrible pang unexpectedly and ferociously hit him in the forehead. He paled, staggering in shock, while the ache made him reinforce his grip even more on Wormtail. Consequently, the wild pain running through his body also reached the horrified little wizard, who was desperately, but unsuccessfully trying to pull his arm away.

Both men, linked in suffering, writhed and struggled to fight back the atrocious sensation. Then their minds lost consciousness, and their bodies were carried away in a whirl of colours and sound too vivid to be tolerated by the human brain.

The Plan by memory [Reviews - 2]

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