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| THE LIGHT ENTHRALLED BY THE DARKNESS | | | | | | | | |
| Chapter 19 - "Fight with you" | | | | Translation: Severus_divides_into_H
Beta Reader: Ailslin Avalbane
19. Fight with you.
The lies you tell aren't meant to deceive
They're not there for me to believe
I've heard your vicious words
You know by now
It takes a lot to see me hurt
I couldn't take it any other way
But there's a price I have to pay*
When Harry reached the door leading to Snape's office, he was so breathless that he needed a moment to catch his breath and cool down. He straightened, sighed deeply a few times and put his hand on a hard surface. The door opened under his touch. It didn't surprise him - he had already guessed that Severus'd enchanted it so it would always open when he wanted to enter. He crossed the office and stopped in front of the entrance leading to the private chambers of the Potions Master. Nerves strained like ropes and a crazy heartbeat muffled his senses, and despite his attempts to hear something, no sound was coming from the room.
He knocked.
Deafening silence answered him.
He pulled out a map and saw that Severus' room was empty. He waited for a few moments, but when nothing happened, knocked again - much louder and more insistently this time. After a few moments a dot denoting Snape appeared on the map. It was accompanied by a strange rustling noise and a heavy, low growl. Harry quickly hid the parchment in his pocket and held his breath. His heart started beating harder. When Harry heard steps on the other side of the door, he couldn't suppress a sigh of relief, and when the high, dressed in black figure appeared in the doorway, the Gryffindor felt his face become wreathed in a smile he couldn't resist. Snape frowned menacingly, but didn't even open his mouth because Harry was faster:
"Good evening, Severus," he said quietly, and without waiting for an answer slid under the arm of a man and entered the room. He looked carefully around, but everything was in its place. Harry didn't know what to expect, but certainly not the fact that everything would be okay here. Maybe some overturned furniture, or strange marks? No, the room looked just like always. The Gryffindor frowned. Was he delusional? He felt subconsciously that something was wrong, but everything seemed to contradict it. Only when he turned to the man who was shutting the door and the gaze of black eyes fell on him, a voice in his mind shouted a warning. Snape's face was strained, his mouth clenched so much that seemed to be only a thin pale line, and his eyes glowed with a menacing glitter. However, that wasn't a warm fire. Only ice could burn like that.
The bad feeling overcame Harry.
"Everything's okay?" he asked uncertainly. "I hope I didn't disturb you in any way," he examined the room again, looking for anything unusual, but he didn't see anything. He turned his glance back to the man and frowned, seeing the anger in his eyes.
Something was wrong ...
Could this anger be Harry's fault? He wondered what he could have done to anger Snape so much - of course apart from coming to him without warning. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but the man forestalled him:
"What do you want, Potter?" His voice was like a steel blade. Cold and wounding. "You came to please me?"
Those words hit effectively. Harry felt a cramp in his heart, but didn't allow it to be seen.
"I just... " he began, but the Potions Master interrupted him again:
"Do not talk, just undress. Do you prefer to satisfy me first..." long fingers suggestively went to the man’s fly, but then stopped and Snape's face contorted with a cruel, mocking expression "...or maybe I should fuck you first?"
Only after a moment did Harry realize that he was staring with his mouth open.
"Are you planning to just stand and stare at me, Potter? Get on your knees!" Snape's gaze was as icy as his voice, full of anger and wild satisfaction. As if hurting Harry amused him. As if he wanted to press and hit long and hard enough to break him. The sharp edges of the words were digging into Harry's heart, shaking it. And when the blade was retreating to inflict another blow, it left bleeding wounds.
Harry couldn't understand what was happening. He stepped back when he saw that the man began approaching him.
"What is it, Potter? That’s what you came for, isn’t it? You always come only for that," Severus hissed, thrusting a look at the boy as sharp as his words, watching with pleasure every spasm of pain they caused on Harry’s face.
"I see you’re in a bad mood," Harry finally managed to squeeze out with a quiet, cracking voice. "I'll go, then. I don't want..."
"I’m always in a bad mood when you hang around me like a pathetic, whimpering pup," the man growled, stopping and piercing him with a murderous look. "A devoted, addicted pup which will do anything he is told to. Come on ... "
"Shut up!" a furious cry broke from Harry's lips before he could stop himself. Besides, even if he wanted, he wouldn't be able to. He clenched his fists so hard that nails almost dug into his flesh. His breathing was heavy and wheezing. All the blood drained from his face when Snape fell to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and with all his strength threw him against the wall. Harry’s body struck painfully against the bookshelf standing along it. The force of the impact knocked him breathless as some of the books fell on his head. He lost his balance and fell onto his hand, injuring it severely. Everything took only a split second. Before he came to his senses, he felt Snape grabbing his clothes, pulling him to a standing position and pressing him into the empty shelves. Harry, still dazed, lifted his head and looked into the man's face engulfed in fury.
"How dare you speak to me like that, Potter!" he hissed into Harry's face. The boy's head was spinning, and the pain in his injured hand was intensifying.
"I want to get out," he whispered softly. "Let me go."
"I don't think so, Potter," Snape growled, pushing him further into the wall. The sharp edges of shelves dug painfully into his back. "Just a minute ago you wanted me to fuck you, didn't you? And it seems to me that you still want it ... "
The Gryffindor moaned in surprise, feeling the man's hand grabbing at his crotch and immediately start rumpling it painfully.
"Stop it!" he exclaimed, trying to disengage, but Snape was pressing against him heavily. "I don't want it! Let me go!"
An expression of dark satisfaction appeared on the man's cruel face.
"Oh, I know you do want it. You always want it," he whispered with a mocking smile on his thin lips.
Harry closed his eyes, fighting the burning under the eyelids and the arousal which began to embrace the parts of his body touched by the Potions Master who was teasing them and fondling them skillfully.
No!
"Well, well ... What do we have here, Potter?" Snape smiled triumphantly, feeling the hardness in Harry's pants. A wave of shame and rage flooded the Gryffindor's mind.
"Go fuck yourself," he hissed through clenched teeth. He saw surprise pass over Snape's face, but after a moment it changed to the unbridled fury. Harry knew how much he was risking, but now he don't care about it at all. Snape humiliated him, he behaved like a madman. He wouldn't let himself be treated like that anymore! He closed his eyes, waiting for the hurricane that would sweep him up and turn him to meaningless dust, but instead he heard a distant knock at the door. Sudden, loud and annoying.
Harry opened his eyes. Snape was red with rage, and the lust for revenge in his eyes had turned into lust for murder. The Gryffindor shivered. He had never seen Snape like this before. For one terrifying moment he was struck by a horrible thought: that man could be capable of anything.
"Wait for me here, Potter," Snape growled, then let him go and straightened his clothes. "And don't you dare touch anything," he added, hastily leaving the room.
Harry was left alone. Only now he noticed that his was shaking. He slipped down to the floor and sighed deeply, trying to calm his breath and his rapidly beating heart, as well as the annoying tears that tried so hard to reach his eyes.
In the prevailing silence in the room he could clearly hear voices coming from the office. One of them was extremely nervous. After a while there was a door creaking and only silence remained. Harry glanced at the map. He saw Snape and two Slytherins aimed towards the Slytherin common room.
He sighed heavily and made a decision. He would take advantage of the opportunity. He wouldn't stay here a minute longer. Snape had attacked him, and for no reason. He’d treated him like... like... Harry swallowed and shook his head, then got up slowly and headed for the door. He pressed the handle, but the door didn't open. His right hand throbbed painfully, and he pressed it to his chest, cradling it. He reached into his right pocket with his left hand and with difficulty pulled his wand out of it.
"Alohomora," he whispered, pointing at the lock, but nothing happened. The door remained closed. He frowned, annoyed.
Snape had locked him in! He had no right to imprison him! Not only had he treated him terribly, he apparently also decided to complete his work when he came back. Harry still remembered his face red with rage and the lust for murder in his eyes. He realized that he was really afraid of him. He had to somehow get out of here!
He turned from the door and cast a glance at the room, looking for anything that might help him to get free. There must be another exit. It was impossible for the dungeons to have no secret passages or secret doors. Though he hadn't noticed anything like that at the Marauder's Map, but... Harry suddenly had a thought … after all, Snape had been disappearing somewhere. Everything fitted then... If there was a secret passage, it could appear much later and therefore the map didn't show it. Or, simply, the Marauders didn't discover everything. There were a lot of possibilities.
Harry began circling the room, carefully examining the walls and thinking of other strategies in case it turned out that he wouldn't find what he was looking for. In the worst case he would wear the Invisibility cloak, pretending he wasn't there. Maybe Snape'd think that he had somehow managed to get away...
No, it was a stupid plan. Snape was too intelligent. He would immediately realize it was a trick and punish Harry even more. He shuddered at the thought of it and began carefully touching the walls and shelves. He reached the library which Snape had thrown him against. Most of the books were lying on the floor. However, among those which remained on the shelf, the Gryffindor saw one that was different from the others. It was shiny and devoid of any inscriptions on the back. When he moved closer to get a better look he noticed that the book had a thick black cord behind it connecting it with the wall. Intrigued, he grabbed the book and pulled it. There was a grinding sound and crack. Harry jumped when the library shifted and slipped forward, and then moved aside, revealing a darkened passage.
Ha, I was right! he triumphantly thought.
"Lumos," he whispered, raising his wand. Cool light burst into the small room. Almost the entire surface of a table was occupied by huge cauldrons, vials and bottles. An open book was lying nearby, and something was bubbling in one of the cauldrons. Some vial lay smashed on the floor, and its greenish contents was shining on the stone slabs. Shelves on the walls were bending under the weight of the jars filled with indeterminate items, multi-colored bottles and books with black covers. But none of these things had attracted the attention of the Gryffindor as much as the stone basin standing in the corner of the room.
He stepped inside and at the same time he felt as though he had crossed a magical barrier. The magic around him was similar to what he felt at Grimmauld Place. This place was magically sealed, that was why he couldn't see it on the map. Harry pulled it from his pocket and saw that the dot with his name had disappeared.
Now everything was clear!
Harry didn't hide the map because he wanted to check when Snape would return, and then went to examine the room. He approached the corner where the basin stood and choked up with emotion, seeing that it was... A second Pensieve? he thought, completely intrigued by this discovery. But the longer he stared at the thoughts floating there, the more he realized something was wrong with them. Slowly, he came even closer and then he understood. The thoughts weren't silver white swirling ribbons. These had a golden color and shape of tangled threads. He was so amazed at the discovery that only after a while he realized that perhaps it was some... secret laboratory of the Potions' Master. And if he was caught here, it could end very badly for him.
He wanted to turn around and leave, but the tangled, golden thoughts attracted his eyes again and he couldn't help but look at them.
What was Snape hiding? What did he have two Pensieves for? What was in this one? He guessed that this one was not ordinary. A little voice in his head was pushing him toward the basin and ordering him to look into it. But Snape could come back in a moment, and if he caught Harry here...
No … no, he needed to find out why he'd been treated so badly! Maybe he could find the answer here...
No! No, he couldn't do that. He remembered very well where his curiosity had led him to the last time. Now it could be worse. Much worse. He could lose everything...
With difficulty he tore his gaze from the basin and looked at the book lying on the table. Its pages were covered with unidentified runes. Maybe Hermione could read them, but for him they seemed to be only very strange signs. For a moment he regretted that he had never studied that subject.
His eyes fell on the shattered vial. It must have happened recently...
He was struck by a sudden understanding. That's probably why Snape'd been so mad. Harry must have interrupted something he'd been working on here. He'd dropped the component and everything may have been in vain. Maybe now Snape had to start from the very beginning? It was the only logical explanation...
But what could it be? Maybe some rare medicine? Or a powerful potion that was hard to brew? Because if Harry had interrupted him in the preparation of a simple potion, Snape wouldn't have reacted with such a violent temper. It would have sufficed to say that he was busy and Harry'd have gone away. He shouldn't have responded the way he did. Unless... unless he hadn’t wanted anyone to know about it. Even Harry.
A shudder shook the boy's body. He had to leave immediately! And he could never mention this place. It must be something really important if Snape protected it like this.
Harry quickly found himself outside the laboratory. He pulled the book and the bookcase slid back into its place. Trying to calm the nervous beating of his heart, Harry stood in the same place where Snape had left him, waiting. Thoughts whirled in his head, but he couldn’t come up with anything else. He couldn't understand what the other mysterious Pensieve meant and what Snape was doing in this laboratory.
Maybe something for Voldemort? Maybe he didn't want to do it and that was why he'd been so angry?
No, that was an idiotic idea.
Suddenly he heard a distant crash and steps. He looked with terror at the door and held his breath. At the time Snape’s dark silhouette appeared there, Harry quickly looked down, gazing at the books scattered on the floor.
Snape closed the door. Harry heard footsteps. He sensed that Snape had stopped and looked at him. Swallowing hard, he risked a quick look. The first thing he saw was the stern, strained man's face, but Harry didn't see rage there any longer. He calmed down a little, seeing that Snape, at least temporarily, didn't intend to throw curses at him. Harry looked down again, trying to escape from the piercing gaze under which he always felt like Snape was unclothing him until he was naked and appraised.
After a while he heard Snape utter a spell and all the books rose from the floor and returned to their places.
Harry didn't move, however. He was just standing in the oppressive silence, pressing his injured hand to his chest.
"What's wrong with your hand, Potter?" the Professor asked in a low, calm voice. It was much different than the punitive, harsh tone which had been striking him not so long ago. There was no anger in it. Apparently the most agitated emotions had gone, but the words spoken in anger couldn't be undone, and more than that - they couldn't be forgotten. They hung between them like sand in a turbine, causing rubbing and grinding, and consequently leading to the destruction of the whole complex system. And although there was still a chance for a peaceful removal of the reason for the accident, the person had to proceed very cautiously. Any wrong move could bury this opportunity ...
Harry shrugged, not looking up.
"Nothing you would care about," he drawled, before he could stop himself. But Snape didn't fly into a fury. Harry heard as he walked to one of the shelves, shifting bottles standing on it. After a while the sound died away.
"Come over here, Potter." The man's voice sounded maybe a bit ... softer. Or so Harry thought. He lifted his head and saw that Snape was holding a small jar in his hand. But he didn't move. He couldn't approach him, not after everything that happened.
He stepped back slightly when the man walked toward him, but quickly got hold of himself. He shouldn't show him that he was afraid ...
Snape stopped in front of him and stretched out his arm.
"Give me your hand, Potter," he said.
Harry held his breath. He looked at the slim, pale man's hand with a mixture of fear and relief. Snape obviously didn't intend to do him any harm. Slowly he gave him his painfully throbbing and trembling hand, but he couldn't look him in the eyes. Snape pulled up his sleeve. Harry's wrist was bluish, and there was a visible long white scratch with a piece of a stripped skin on his forearm. Snape took a bit of a transparent substance with his fingers and started rubbing it along the bruised place. Harry winced, and a groan escaped his mouth. The man stopped for a moment. The Gryffindor's eyes involuntarily went up and he saw something he had never seen before. Snape's face was mild, the wrinkles smoothed out, and his eyes ... he saw in his eyes ...
Harry blinked a few times in disbelief. But at the same time the man felt his gaze, his black eyes turned cool, and he frowned.
But the impression remained. The impression that Snape...
No I … I must have misinterpreted that ... Harry thought, as another twinge of pain sent his thoughts in an entirely different direction. At the same time however, he began to feel something else - A soft, cool burning sensation that took the pain away and refreshed his senses. He felt goosebumps on his hand, but now he wasn't sure whether it was the effect of the ointment or of the gentle touch of the cold Potions Master's fingers.
Finally, Snape let go of his hand and put the jar's lid on. Harry licked his lips and said quietly:
"So ... I'll go, then." He lifted his eyes and glanced firmly at the man who was looking at him thoughtfully. "I don't want to disturb you further, or spoil your mood. The last thing I wanted was to annoy you with my presence," he finished more loudly, looking at Snape with a challenge in his eyes.
He waited. Everything would clear up now ... If Snape proved to be just a big asshole, then Harry would have complete clarity on the question of how their relationship would end.
He watched as Snape drew his eyebrows together, and an indefinite feeling ran over his face. After a moment he heard Snape speak so quietly that he had initially thought that it was just his imagination:
"I assure you that you won't annoy me with your presence if you choose to stay," Severus said, looking him straight in the eyes.
Harry smiled to himself. It was the strangest apology he had ever heard. But still, it wasn't enough. He frowned and looked at the man expectantly. Snape winced slightly, as if he fought with some invisible enemy. Harry just stood and stared at him haughtily.
And waited.
Finally a stifled whisper left Severus' lips:
"I'd like you to stay."
The pleasant feeling of triumph spilled over Harry's body when he looked at the glittering eyes staring at him.
"In that case -- " he said quietly, trying very much not to let even a note of the wild joy he felt in his heart sound in his voice, "if you ask me, then I can probably stay," he finished, begging his mouth to hold on a little more and not to break into a smile. For a split second a wrathful fire flashed in Snape's eyes, but he quickly extinguished it, then turned back to Harry and went to his favorite armchair.
The Gryffindor closed his eyes and let a gentle, relieved smile appear on his lips.
He sighed deeply and went to sit in the second chair. For a moment there was an awkward silence, broken only by the soft crackle of burning wood. Snape stared at the fire. Harry glanced at him, swallowed hard, and said very quietly:
"I also apologize. For my behavior. I shouldn't have said what I did," he uttered, staring at the floor. Once again he glanced at Severus and saw that the man was still watching the hissing, trembling flames. His lips were clenched and his face seemed to be very severe and fierce. Harry wondered if Snape had heard him at all, or he had been thinking all the while about his work which Harry had prevented him from completing. It looked as if his thoughts were far away from him, far away from this room, far away from them.
Harry also plunged into his own thoughts hovering on the edges of his consciousness like obtrusive flies, giving him no peace.
And what if all of Severus' behavior was Voldemort's fault? Something was needling him and evidently it must have had something to do with Voldemort. Even if he was far away, his presence was felt in the air like a night ghost, encroaching between them, separating, pushing them from each other. He would always stand between them. Harry was aware of that. His shadow would always be hanging over them, and nothing would be well until he died.
At this moment Harry hated Voldemort more than ever before. This monster had been taking away everyone important to him. First his parents, then Sirius, and now... now he was taking Snape away.
Every time it seemed that everything was changing for the better, Voldemort's dark shadow suddenly appeared, destroying everything, cutting that thin thread of connection, blowing out the glimmering fire, trampling down peace and joy.
Harry still remembered how Snape had thrown him out because of the summons he’d received from Voldemort. And now this... This would have never happened if not for that murderer! No one would have died, people wouldn't have lived in constant fear, and he and Snape could have been together...
He had to do something about it! He was sitting by for too long. He wouldn't allow Voldemort to destroy his dreams!
Enough of this!
"I'll kill him," he said suddenly, staring at the fire with eyes burning as much as the wood in the fireplace. Severus turned his head sharply in his direction, looking at Harry in surprise. "I'll kill Voldemort," the Gryffindor explained, slowly shifting his vehement gaze to the man.
Snape threw Harry a very long, thoughtful look. He looked at him as if he wanted to break through his body and read everything straight from his very soul. Harry felt as if he was being assessed, and Snape's eyes were burning his skin, trying to explore his thoughts. He began to fidget uneasily, feeling very uncomfortable under the influence of that look. After some time, Severus took a breath and asked:
"And how are you going to do it?"
That's what Harry hadn't had time to think about.
"I don't know yet," he admitted quietly, but seeing the mocking smile that appeared on the Potions Master's face, he added quickly "I'll find a way, though. Voldemort will pay for everything, even if it is the last thing I'll do!"
The ferocity in his voice made Severus stop looking at him with mockery and frown.
"Am I to understand it as your willingness to sacrifice your life in order to kill the Dark Lord?"
Harry tightened his lips and looked away.
"I know that there is little I can do, and he is extremely powerful. But I'll try and if I die... " he looked into Snape’s eyes; eyes that seemed as black as a starless sky. "At least I will take him with me."
He watched Snape's face suddenly turn ashen, and his eyebrows rose. For a moment, Harry saw ... fear in his eyes. And a kind of ... anxiety. When the boy blinked, everything was gone. Snape looked as though he was completely plunged into his thoughts. He stared straight ahead, eyes absent, as if Harry suddenly became invisible. After a few moments he suddenly shook his head.
From the Gryffindor's point of view it looked as if the man answered himself some question negatively. But maybe he had just driven some anxious thoughts off? Harry didn't know it, but he had no desire to think about it now. He was now troubled by something completely different. He sighed and said in a dim, sad voice:
"I don't want to die, but I know that fighting Voldemort is my duty. And I have to do it. If I don't defeat him, then nobody will. And it doesn't even compare to how much I'd rather be with you... " he wasn't looking at Severus. He wasn’t able to. "...but I have no other choice. "
After some time the silence was interrupted by a snort. Harry looked up with surprise at Snape, whose face expressed only harsh mockery.
"Of course. You love to play the hero, Potter. The truth is that you are an ordinary fool," Severus's voice was sharp and stinging. Hammering at his heart like the sharpest knife. "Fame has so rushed to your head that you yourself don't know what you're saying."
Harry bristled. He wouldn't allow Snape to offend him like that!
"I am the Chosen One!" he almost cried, but seeing Severus' face, he immediately realized he had gone too far and really regretted he'd said it. For Snape those words were like a red rag to a bull, and at this moment his face expressed only deep contempt.
"Oh, I forgot about this detail. The Chosen One," the Potions Master seemed to spit out those words as if it they were burning his tongue. "You'll go to war, shouting to the Dark Lord that you are the Chosen One, the earth will tremble and everyone will fall dead."
Harry winced. The spiteful mockery which the Potions Master had thrown that in his face acted like a bucket of cold water over him. He felt like Snape had surpassed himself. But he couldn't respond because the man continued in a malicious, raging voice:
"You wouldn't be even able to hurt the Dark Lord. You can't do anything. He'd kill you before you could make a sound. Regardless of how noble the motives are that drive you, if you try to do anything, you won't stand a chance in a battle with him."
After the initial shock Harry felt like his heart was being touched by the cold fingers of anger.
"Thank you very much," he snarled. "Your faith in me is touching."
"And your idiotic Gryffindor self-confidence is pathetic," Snape replied immediately, looking at Harry with eyes darkened with anger. "You want to go kill the Dark Lord, and yet you can't cast even the simplest curse."
"Last year I cast the Cruciatus on Bellatrix," Harry growled.
"Oh, and you think that the Cruciatus will be enough for the Dark Lord and his legions of faithful Death Eaters?" the Potions Master's voice was dripping with cynicism.
"I will learn other spells," the Gryffindor retorted. "For example ... Legilimens Evocis."
Snape looked surprised. He paused, as if for a moment he lost the thread of discussion.
"How do you know about this spell?" he asked, frowning menacingly.
"Tonks told us about it during Defense lesson. She said that Voldemort uses it, so why can’t I? You could teach me ... " he suggested timidly.
Snape's eyes narrowed so much that they seemed to turn into two burning slits.
"It's out of the question," he cut sharply.
"Why not?" Harry didn't give up. "Apparently if someone can throw this spell, it's easier to defend against it. And how can I if I don't know it?"
"You couldn't learn how to defend against the ordinary Legilimens, and you'd like to deal with something like this? Don't make me laugh, Potter," the man snorted, turning his face towards the fireplace.
Harry bit his lips and clenched his fists. He felt boiling anger under his skin, scorching him, making it difficult for him to control himself.
"I don't want Voldemort to cast this spell on me. I'd rather die than live in a nightmare!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking as the image of his own hands soaked with blood appeared before his eyes, and a hoarse laughter sounded in his ears.
Why did Snape have to be such an asshole? What could he lose? Why didn't he want to help him? Didn't he believe in him at all?
Severus looked at him, pressed his lips and stood up.
"The Dark Lord won't cast this spell on you, Potter," he drawled in a cool, distant voice, as if wishing to cut this discussion.
Harry blinked in surprise.
"How... " he began, but the man interrupted him:
"I don't have time for this nonsense, Potter. Go back to your dorm and do something useful. For example, study Potions."
"But... " Harry didn't want to go back. Why was Snape so sure? How could he know?
"I won't repeat myself. Get out!" he hissed. His eyes were icy cold. It seemed that the frost had burnt all the feelings that Harry'd seen in them before. Now he didn't see anything. He shivered as the chill emanating from Severus touched all his senses, but he was clever enough so as not to resist any longer.
Harry closed his mouth and clenched his fists. He stood up suddenly, shaking with anger, and went out quickly, slamming the door.
While returning to the Tower, there were so many thoughts swirling in Harry's head that he went the wrong way for a several minutes. He tried to analyze everything that he had learned and discovered today, but information was too abundant, and he was too nervous.
He was sure only of one thing - if Snape chose to be a jerk who didn't want to teach him anything, then Harry would find a way and learn everything by himself!
And he would kill Voldemort!
* Dangerous by Depeche Mode
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