by Harry Potter
“Actually, I’m kind of hungry myself,” Harry stated as his stomach growled.
“I smell fish and chips,” Ron said as he sniffed the air. “Over there!” the red haired wizard said and pointed down the street.
Sure enough, past the crowd of Muggles walking on the sidewalks was a fish and chips stand.
“All right fine, we’ll grab a snack,” Hermione assented.
The four friends began walking down the street when Harry saw someone exit the crowd of people ahead of them. Something in the pit of his stomach told Harry that he should hide. Listening to his instinct, Harry pushed his friends into a shadowy alcove.
“Harry, what-” Hermione began.
“Hush,” Harry ordered.
The man’s black robes billowed out behind him as he walked briskly. He continuously looked around him; trying to see if anyone was following him. His large hooked nose gave him the appearance of a bird of prey. Thankfully, the shadows concealed Harry and his friends from the approaching man’s vision.
Harry watched silently from the shadows. The person walked down the other side of the street and slowly came into view. Harry heard both Luna and Hermione gasp and he felt Ron tense up.
“Snape,” Harry hissed. Chapter Twenty-Four: Snape reveals the truth that everybody already knew. “What’s he doing here?” Ron spat through clenched teeth. Harry’s blood was boiling with rage as he watched the man who had betrayed and murdered Dumbledore walking just a few feet away. Harry wanted to rush up to Snape and hex the traitorous bastard into oblivion. Before he could react, Harry saw Snape pull a small knife out of his pocket. He watched as Snape cut open his own hand, much like Harry had done shortly before. The greasy git wiped his hand, smearing his blood onto the hidden doorway. The young wizard watched in bewilderment as the door magically appeared, and Snape vanished into the hidden hallway. “What d’you think he’s doing?” asked Ron, in a more confused than normal tone. “Maybe he is checking on the Horcruxes for You Know Who,” suggested Luna. “Why would he?” returned Hermione. “Voldemort’s never checked on his Horcruxes before. Why should he start now? Unless... unless Voldemort has figured out we’re destroying them and he’s having his minions check on the remaining ones! But why would he send one of his followers to do it? This could be bad,” the brunette’s voice grew worried. “Oh, no. What if Voldemort found out what we’re doing and is using his minions to move all of the Horcruxes to a more secure location?” “Well if that does happen, all you have to do is rub another one out of Harry and track them down again,” Ron offered off-handedly. “Ronald, don’t use such crude language,” chastised Luna. “‘Rub one out,’ how low. The correct phrase is ‘wank him off.’ And you forgot to add ‘and take it in the face.’ That’s the proper language for this situation. I thought you knew better than that.” “What are we going to do, Harry?” Hermione asked, clearly trying to ignore Luna and Ron’s exchange. “We capture him, that’s what,” Harry said flatly. The three friends stared at Harry for a full two seconds before Ron stated in an overly sarcastic way; “Oh, just capture him. That should be easy. Bloody easy I should say.” “Harry, Snape is an experienced duelist and a master Legilimens,” informed Hermione. “He’d take us out with little effort. The four of us wouldn’t be much of a challenge, even allowing for both of our power boosts. He’d be able to see our moves through his Legilimency and block them or even stop us before we finished our incantations.” “If we play our cards right, we won’t have to duel him,” Harry said as a sly grin stretched across his face. For the first time since Snape appeared, Harry turned and faced his friends. “We set some traps and snatch him. Hermione and Luna, you two know more traps than Ron and I do. Lay as many traps right outside the door as you can. Leg-Lockers, Binding Jinxes, Disarming Traps, anything you can think up.” “Do you think that’ll work?” asked Luna. “Why not?” returned Harry. “For all Snape knows, he’s disarmed the traps outside the exit. He won’t be expecting any new ones when he comes out.” Without another word, Luna and Hermione dashed toward the hidden entrance and immediately began twirling their wands about, casting trap after trap on the area just outside the door. Every few seconds one witch would suggest a trap to cast to the other; “Try Finnegan’s Folly right there” or “How about Carmen’s Bumbler, it’s an oldie but goody” to name a few. As the two witches worked as quickly as they could, Ron and Harry had their wands out and leveled at the door, ready to launch hexes and jinxes in case Snape were to come out while their witches incanted. A few minutes later, Hermione and Luna, satisfied that enough traps were laid, rejoined Harry and Ron in the shadows across the street. All four stared at the invisible door in silence, almost willing Snape to come out so they could capture him. Thankfully, the teens’ patience was not tried too much. The door popped into existence less than a minute after Hermione and Luna had completed their task. Harry could almost hear the old hinges of the door creak from across the street as it slowly opened. A sour and disappointed looking Snape was framed in the dark doorway. He glanced to his left and then to the right, sneering at the empty space in front of him. Satisfied that no one was watching, the Potions Master stepped out of the doorway. The moment his foot touched the ground outside the door a loud bang echoed through the air. Two things happened at the exact same time. First; Snape’s feet were tugged backward, as if an invisible rope had pulled violently on the limbs; making the surly wizard pitch forward. Second, Snape’s wand sprung from his hand and soared through the air. It clattered on the ground a dozen feet away from the greasy wizard. As Snape continued to pitch forward, he tried to break his fall by placing his hands in front of him. This attempted act of self-preservation only triggered two of Hermione’s and Luna’s traps. A Body Bind hex caused Snape’s limbs to snap together while Levicorpus hoisted the wizard into the air by his ankles. A victorious smile appeared on Harry’s face. “We did it!” cheered Hermione. “You doubted my plan?” the bespectacled wizard said with a false air of disapproval. “Oh, will you ever forgive me for my transgressions?” returned Hermione with an equal helping of irony. As the four friends moved in a group to the immobile and inverted villain, Ron added to Harry’s and Hermione’s interchange. And Ron, being Ron of course, missed his friends’ tone and spoke with sincerity. “Of course we beat him. We knocked his arse out in our third year, remember? And all we used was just an Expelliarmus; a simple charm we learned in our second year.” A few feet away from their dangling detainee, Ron gasped, as if an epiphany came to him. “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if you defeated You Know Who with an Expelliarmus, Harry.” “Don’t be asinine, Ron,” Hermione glared at Ron the way an instructor stares at a lovable dim-witted child. “Voldemort’s the most feared and powerful dark wizard in a century. A simple Expelliarmus can’t defeat him. It is a disarming charm; it doesn’t really do much to an opponent if one is able to think on their feet.” “But, what if-” he began to defend himself. “Ronald, Hermione is right,” Luna said softly and kindly... like the way an instructor speaks compassionately to a lovable dim-witted student. “To even think that such a childish spell could defeat someone like You Know Who is just plain dumb, my love.” Ron’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Feeling sorry for his best mate, Harry patted the red haired wizard on the back. “If my life wasn’t in mortal danger during a duel with the most powerful and feared wizard of our times, I would definitely try to cast an Expelliarmus on him, Ron.” “Thanks, Harry,” Ron smiled. Turning his attention away from his lovable dim-witted friend, Harry stared angrily at his former potions professor. “Looks like justice will have its day, you bastard,” Harry threatened. Snape’s fathomless black eyes narrowed on Harry’s. Harry knew that the git was using Legamcy to probe his thoughts, but the young wizard didn’t care. In a few moments, he’d bodily haul Snape to the Ministry so they could chuck his arse in Azkaban. “You destroyed the Horcrux,” stated Snape. “Yeah, I did,” the raven haired wizard said in a dismissive manner. “And a few of the others as well. Your master’s time is run
ning short,” he finished boldly. “Wait, you found the cup?” Snape asked. “Yep, found and destroyed. Including the diary, ring, and the anvil, that means Voldemort is down four Horcruxes,” Harry gloated. “How did you find them so quickly?” the greasy wizard demanded. “A simple searching ritual,” he answered proudly. “The Dark Lord has dozens of wards against any form of magical searching,” Snape argued. “How could a wizard as feeble as you bypass them?” “I have my ways,” Harry said and his mind drifted back to the wonderful han - err - ritual that he and Hermione performed. Which was a mistake. Snape’s eyes bulged and he began looking between Harry and Hermione in disbelief. It was at that moment that Harry made a mental note not to recall intimate moments in front of a master Legilimens. Again, Snape’s eyes narrowed on Harry. “I thought you looked at Granger like she was your sister,” the villain said with clear disgust. “My ‘sister’?” Harry shot back with mirrored revulsion. “How the hell would you think that?” “It was an impression I got,” answered Snape. “I assumed that you felt that she was nothing more than a sister to you. It is obvious to me that is how you acted in regards to your feelings for Granger.” “How I acted? I’m an only bloody child. How the fuck would I know what having a sister felt like?” retorted Harry. “So, how could I have acted like I felt that Hermione was a sister? That makes no sense at all. Not once since I met Hermione have I ever thought of her as a sister, not even in passing. So it would’ve been an uneducated assumption on your part to conclude that I had brotherly feelings for her. As a best friend, yes; as a sister, no! Besides, if I thought of anyone like a sibling it would’ve been Ron. And that’s only because I looked at Mrs. Weasley as a surrogate mother; especially after the fiasco that was the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard.” For some inexplicable reason, Hermione snorted a chuckle. “What?” Harry turned, asking his girlfriend. “Oh, nothing,” she said. The twinkle in her eyes told Harry it was indeed something. But before he could press the issue, a thought occurred to him; something just a little bit more important than finding out why Hermione laughed. “Wait. How’d you know about the Horcruxes anyway?” he demanded of Snape. “I thought Voldemort would’ve never told anyone about them.” “Just as slow as ever, Potter,” Snape said snidely. “Ask yourself why would the Dark Lord willingly divulge such a vulnerability?” “I just asked you that,” Harry snapped. “You can’t ask me my own question back. You’re the prisoner and I’m the one who captured you. It’s not proper.” Snape smiled his greasy, crooked tooth smile in response. “I can hex you, you know,” threatened Harry while waving his wand in front of Snape’s hooked nose. “Because Voldemort didn’t,” Hermione answered Snape’s question. “At least, not knowingly.” Harry turned and faced Hermione once again. The witch had an expression somewhere between understanding and confusion. As if what she had said had seemed clear but had brought up a bevy of other questions. “Ah, I can practically hear the gears turning in your puny little minds,” mocked Snape. It infuriated Harry that even though Snape was bound and defenseless, he still seemed to have the upper hand. “I say we disregard his motivation and just drag his bottom to the Ministry,” Luna threatened, although her tone wasn’t very intimidating; the way she spoke sounded like she was offering to bake biscuits and share them with the potions master. “I agree with Luna,” Ron said. He glowered at Snape before turning to his wife and whispering in her ear, “Don’t use the word ‘bottom’ when threatening someone. It ruins the effect.” “You’re... you’re working against him?” speculated Harry. “Very good, Potter. It seems the Headmaster’s faith in you wasn’t completely wasted,” Snape said scornfully. “I think he’s still lying,” Ron snapped. “He’s just playing us. Trying to distract us so he can escape.” “Yes, you’ve discovered my brilliant plan, Weasley,” the greasy wizard glared at Ron. “You killed Dumbledore. I saw it with my own eyes,” Harry snarled. “Why should I believe you when you say you’re working against Voldemort?” “I have a vial of Veritaserum in my left robe pocket,” the greasy git stated. “Feed me three drops, and you’ll know I am speaking the truth.” “It’s a colorless and odorless potion, how the hell can we tell if it’s Veritaserum and not just water?” demanded Hermione. “I still fail to see why so many people consider you a brilliant witch, I have always known you to be just slightly above average for a Gryffindor, which is not saying much,” Snape said. “A child could tell you that you can easily verify the potion by using it on one of yourselves, and then ask something that the test subject wouldn’t normally reveal.” “What if it’s a poison?” Luna asked. “If one of us takes it, we could die.” “And how would killing one of you dolts be helpful to me? If it was a poison, I would’ve suggested that all four of you take it, not just one,” the former Head of Slytherin snapped. “If it was a poison and I did trick one of you into taking it, I’d still have to deal with the other three. And in my current predicament, frozen, dangling upside-down in mid-air without a wand, the three of you, despite your lowly skills, would make short work of me. What good would it do if I poisoned only one of you?” The four friends shared a look. Harry was hesitant, what he really wanted to do was drag the son of a bitch down to the Ministry so that they could chuck him into Azkaban. But a part of the young wizard was wondering if Snape was telling the truth; what if he truly was working on bringing Voldemort down? What if Snape was still a spy for the light? “I’ll do it,” Ron offered, his voice hesitant and soft. “I’ll test the potion.” “Are you sure?” asked Harry. “Yeah,” Ron replied and took a step toward Snape. “Um, how about we make a Portkey to St. Mango’s, just in case it is a poison, though?” Luna toed off one of her shoes. Bending over at the hips, she tapped her wand against her discarded shoe and incanted, “Portus.” As the shoe trembled and glowed, Ron stood in front of Snape. “The vial is in my front left pocket,” the captured wizard said. While Ron dug around in Snape’s robes, Harry asked his former instructor “You always keep a vial of Veritaserum on you?” “Yes, among a number of other potions, including several antidotes,” Snape stated arrogantly. “I find it best, unlike others whom I won’t mention,” he glared directly at Harry, “to be prepared.” Finally, Ron tugged a small glass vial out of Snape’s robes. “Put three drops on your tongue, Weasley,” the Potions Master commanded. Uncorking the tiny bottle, Ron nervously asked Luna “Is that Portkey ready?” “Yes, Ronald,” replied Luna. Her eyes were wide (well... wider than normal) with anxious worry. The red haired wizard opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. With a steady hand, Ron tilted the vial and cautiously dropped three dollops of the liquid on his tongue. He swallowed, placed the stopper back in the vial, turned to face his friends and said “I don’t think it wor-” That’s when Ron’s expression went blank. His eyes glazed over and his mouth hung open and slack jawed. Out of the corner of Harry’s eye, he saw Luna run her hands over the front of her robes. He asked “What are you doing, Luna?” “Checking to see if my breasts are exposed,” the blonde witch answered lightly. “Ronald gets that same expression whenever he sees my breasts. I was worried that they had popped out accidentally. They do that sometimes, you know.” “Really, his expression changed?” Hermione asked no-one in particular under her breath. “I can’t tell. He looks like he always does to me.” “It’s the Veritaserum, you fools,” Snape spoke slowly, as if Harry and his friends had difficulty understanding such a basic concept. “Ask Weasley your questions so you can verify the potion.” “Okay, Ron, tell us something you don’t want us to know,” Harry asked. If the potion truly was Veritaserum, Ron would answer truthfully. In a daze, Ron stated “I really liked it when Luna stuck her finger into my bottom.” Harry, Hermione, and Snape balked at Ron’s admission while Luna giggled happily. “So much so that I want her to do it again,” the red haired wizard continued, unfortunately. This caused the three who balked to take a step back - which was rather difficult for Snape seeing that he was bound in place and hanging upside-down. But Luna only seemed encouraged. In fact, Harry assumed by the eager look in her eyes that she
was willing to acquiesce to Ron’s request right there in the alleyway. And knowing her past history, such an event was a definite possibility. Harry’s assumption was confirmed when the blonde witch held up her index finger and began to wiggle it about. “I know I acted shocked and hurt when she did it that one time,” Ron forged ahead. “But really, I was just surprised at how much I liked it, to be honest.” “Um, that’s enough Ron, we know it’s Veritaserum. You can stop,” Harry implored almost desperately. He was terrified that Luna, encouraged by her husband’s revelation would bound over to Ron and jab one of her digits up his bum. Not wanting to see that, he begged Ron. “Please, stop.” “In fact, I’m hoping she’ll use two fingers next time,” Ron added. “Stupefy!” Hermione cried out frantically. A bolt of red magic leapt from her wand and struck Ron, squarely in the chest. The gangly wizard collapsed to the ground unconscious. “Hermione, I won’t be able to fulfill Ronald’s wishes if he isn’t awake,” Luna said in her usual dreamy tone. With her left hand she caressed her right index finger, as if warming it up for the nefarious purpose. “That was the point,” Hermione said with a desperate edge to her voice. “Well, I suppose I could still do my wifely duties, even if he is unconscious,” the blonde said, taking a step toward her unconscious husband. Hermione pointed her wand at Luna and warned, “Don’t make me use this on you.” With the brunette’s wand leveled at her head, Luna took a step back, albeit clearly disappointed. “If I still held my position as professor at Hogwarts, I might’ve considered giving Gryffindor points for your actions, Granger,” Snape said to the brunette witch and then reiterated; “Might have.” “All right, let’s get this over with,” Harry said. Hermione nodded and walked over to Ron. While she picked up the vial of Veritaserum Harry waved his wand at Snape. The Potions Master slowly pivoted in air, turning right side up. “Open your mouth,” Hermione, whose voice showed no sympathy for the magically bound wizard, commanded. Snape opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue as far as it could go. Even with this contortion of his features, the git still looked like he was sneering at Harry. Carefully, Hermione measured out three drops of Veritaserum onto Snape’s tongue. He swallowed and a second later his face went blank much like Ron’s had. Knowing that the Veritaserum would make Snape answer nothing but the truth, Harry asked “Why are you here?” “I am on a mission to retrieve the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes so that they can be destroyed and he can be finally defeated,” Snape spoke in a flat and emotionless tone. “Who gave you this mission?” asked Harry. “Headmaster Dumbledore,” he replied. “Due to the injuries he received when he destroyed the ring-Horcrux and his advanced age, the Headmaster was dying. Dying painfully. He had come up with the plan for me to carry out Draco’s mission of killing him for the Dark Lord. That way I’d save Draco from any evil act... well, murder at any rate. And I’d show a great man who was suffering immensely mercy. My actions would also entrench myself in the Dark Lord’s ranks. The Dark Lord would herald me for killing his hated enemy. He would reward me by making me his most trusted servant. And with that trust, I would be able to gather information on the whereabouts of his Horcruxes.” “How’d you do that?” inquired Harry. “I don’t imagine he’d ever divulge the secret to his immortality to anyone.” “I am a Potion Master,” he answered. If it wasn’t for the effects of the Veritaserum making him speak in a monotone, Harry was positive that Snape would have been overly arrogant and degrading to the younger wizard. “I used a combination of Sleeping Draughts and Veritaserum to pry the information out of him as he slumbered. If he had remembered divulging any of his secrets, which was unlikely, it would’ve seemed like he had done so in a dream.” Recalling the missing Horcrux, the one they couldn’t find through the han - err - ritual, Harry asked “How many locations have you gotten?” “Just this one, Gryffindor’s useless wizarding anvil,” Snape replied. “I’ve had to work slowly, only taking small pieces of information from the Dark Lord, asking about traps and wards along with the location, night by night. I feared that to ask more than one question a night would alert him to my mission, and I’d be killed.” Harry cursed silently. At this rate, he’d never find the missing Horcrux. Pushing that depressing revelation to the side, Harry returned his thoughts to Snape. The git was telling the truth, he was still working for the light. The bespectacled wizard was still angry that Snape had killed Dumbledore, despite the fact that it was an act of mercy that Dumbledore had not only welcomed but encouraged. Then a question came to Harry; why was Snape working for the light? As far as Harry knew, Snape was a bigot and pure blood elitist even though he himself was of mixed heritage. Curiosity got the better of the young wizard and he asked, “Why did you join the Order?” “I am in love with your mother,” was his answer. “Even to this day.” Harry was floored. Snape betrayed his master out of love. And love for Harry’s own mother. Yet, Harry recalled how Snape had cruelly called Lily a Mudblood in the Pensive memory. How could he have called her such a foul name if he was in love with her? “Even though she was a mudblood, I still masturbate ferociously to her memory,” Snape continued. At that moment, Harry lost control of his bladder. The concept of Snape pleasuring himself over anything was highly disturbing. The fact that greasy git was doing so to the memory of Harry’s mother made it downright terrifying for the young wizard. As his warm urine flowed down his trousers, he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Hermione’s complexion had gone a sickly green, and Luna had blanched and held her hands in front of her mouth, apparently to stop the vomit from erupting from her lips. They too were just as disturbed by Snape’s admission. “It is truly disgusting just how often I abuse myself with the thought of Lily, even now, but particularly when I was still a student,” Snape forged ahead. “By my seventh year, my right forearm was twice the size of my left.” Silently, Harry begged Hermione to stun Snape like she had done to Ron, because fear had paralyzed Harry and he couldn’t do it himself. Unfortunately, the same fear that had rendered Harry a statue had claimed Hermione as well. “In my third year, I cut holes in the pockets of my robes,” the elder wizard regrettably persistent. “Whenever Lily spoke to someone... I constantly followed her, lurking in the shadows just to hear the mudblood’s angelic voice as she talked with the other students... I would discreetly slip my hands through those holes and fondle myself. Just the sound of her sweet voice was enough to get me hard as steel. I had gotten so skilled at defiling myself under my robes that I could carry on a conversation with another student while that gorgeous mudblood red-head had her own private discussion. I could pleasure myself, with no one the wiser. Many, many times did I ejaculate in my own shorts while imagining actually speaking to her, be it about schoolwork, the weather, politics, or whatever other topics came up. “One time, while Lily was studying in the Library, she had turned her back and, seeing my chance, I slinked out of the nearby dark alcove where I was hiding and defiling myself - which I did often - and nicked her Charm’s notes. That night I stripped naked and rubbed her delicious parchment all over my bare and sensitive flesh. The words she had written danced over my taught nipples. In a way, I was cleansing myself with her essence when I did that. That night, that wondrously glorious night, I came so much that I lost consciousness,” Snape spoke. “When I anonymously returned her notes, I heard Lily asking her friends how the recovered parchment could have gotten so badly crumpled. I fantasized that if I ever had the nerve to talk to that wondrous mudblood, I could tell her the truth and that she would see how much I loved her and in turn she would do her duty as a non-pureblood and fall madly in love with me. I dreamt about bending her over a table and slapping my manhood against the milky white flesh of her buttocks.” Just when Harry thought it couldn’t get worse, Snape uttered sixteen disgusting words. On their own, these sixteen words were far from revolting. But strung together and said by Snape in reference to Harry’s mother was what made it truly horrible: “I often imagine what Lily’s beautiful green eyes would look like framed with my white seed.” Thankfully one of Harry’s limbs broke free of the par
alyzing fear at that moment. And even more satisfying, it wasn’t his wand-arm. Instead, his right leg sprung up and kicked his heel directly into Snape’s groin. It was as if a part of Harry was subconsciously punishing Snape for thinking of his mother in such a disgusting manner. If Snape had not been under the effects of a Body Bind, he would no doubt have ended up on the ground of the alley, curled up in a tight ball. Having been denied the privilege of doubling up into the fetal position, all the wizard could do was roll his eyes into his skull. A high pitch whine, like steam escaping from a kettle, sounded from Snape’s thin and crooked lips. “Kick him again,” Hermione prayed in a small voice. Luna, still pressing her hands against her mouth, nodded her head passionately in agreement. “I deserved that,” Snape groaned out, his voice still a note higher than normal. Harry took solace in the fact that the dirty pervert who stalked his mother even after her death was still under the effects of Veritaserum which meant that what he said was true and he did deserved to be kicked. Of course, even if Snape had not made this statement, Harry would’ve still felt justified in his actions. For the next few minutes, Harry fought the urge to give into Hermione’s suggestion and beat Snape into a pulp; particularly around the groin region. Harry knew that he would feel better if Snape was bruised and bloodied; especially around the groin. He paced back and forth in front of the bound wizard, every now and again, Harry’s leg twitched, aching to kick the stalker, mainly around the crotch. But the disgusting perverted stalker was helping to bring down Voldemort. And since he was one of Voldemort’s trusted lieutenants, Harry could use him; not only to help find the missing Horcrux, but to gain relevant information on Voldemort and his followers. So, unfortunately, Harry came to conclusion not to beat Snape to within an inch (mainly on and around the groin region) of his life for the greater good. After Harry canceled the Body Bind, Snape fell to his knees and vomited on the ground. While Snape tried to regain his composure, Harry asked Hermione to revive Ron. Snape stood and locked eyes with Harry. Judging by his lack of a dazed expression, Harry assumed that the effects of the truth potion had worn off. There in the black pits of his eyes, Harry could see that Snape still loathed him, probably even more now that Harry knew his secrets. But underneath the abhorrence was a hint of compliance; Snape knew he had to team up with Harry in order to bring down Voldemort. “I can assume you know the locations of the other Horcruxes through that... ritual?” Snape asked in an even tone. “One of them yes,” Harry replied. “Slytherin’s locket is with a bloke named Zardoz. He lives at a place called Founders’ Cove.” “I’m familiar with him,” the elder wizard stated. “I know about Voldemort, but he’s under the Fidelius and I can’t track him down,” continued Harry. “There is one other Horcrux, but I can’t find it for some reason.” The potion master became lost in thought for a moment. Then, after some silent consideration, Snape spoke “I will deal with Zardoz.” “We can do it!” snapped Harry; offended that Snape didn’t think he could get the Horcrux away from its current owner. “I can retrieve the item with subtlety and tack,” Snape said contentiously. “And we can’t?” Hermione heatedly returned. “Did you not notice that you left a fifty foot corpse of a mutilated Basilisk back in that chamber?” Snape asked rhetorically. “Because if you consider that to be tactful or subtle then you have more to learn than I had thought. “What were you planning on doing? Asking Zardoz to hand the locket over? From what I’ve heard about the man tells me that he would never part with such a prized possession,” Snape jeered. “I can take the Horcrux right out from under his nose and Zardoz would never know.” “You won’t hurt him will you?” asked Harry. He hated to admit it, but Snape was a damn good spy and could probably do what he had just boasted. And if Snape was able to deal with Zardoz and the locket, it would be a weight off of Harry’s shoulders. “Of course I won’t,” Snape replied angrily. “You and your girlfriend can busy yourselves with finding the missing Horcrux.” Apparently satisfied that the conversation was over, Snape swirled his black robes around in a theatrical manner before Apparating away with a crack. “What a wanker,” insulted Ron. Referring to Snape as a “wanker” was clearly too much for Luna. With Ron’s comment, the blonde witch was obviously reminded about Snape’s revelation of masturbating habitually, causing Luna to lose control. With a loud gurgling and splashing sound, Luna emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of Ron. Her vomit splashed and flowed down his belly, groin, and legs, pooling around his feet and in his shoes. “Um, did I miss something?” a bewildered Ron asked looking at the great globs of partially digested food and bile dribbling down his trousers. “Just be thankful you did,” Harry said with a frown, trying to erase the memory of what Snape had said from his mind.