Summary: Harry thought the prophecy would be the last revelation about his life. But it wasn't. The largest was yet to come. Harry always thought he and Draco Malfoy had nothing in common. But after a hectic summer, they find there's something they do share … their parents.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR
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Chapter Two: The Snake and the Lion
Professor Severus Snape's quarters were not, as most people assumed, in the dungeons. In fact they were on the first floor in a corner separate from the rest of the school. They were guarded by a portrait of a scene resembling Shakespeare's witches in Macbeth. It had been chosen by Severus out of his love for old literature.
Minerva gave the password and entered. The living-room had several doors off of it: a kitchen, a study/potions lab, bedroom and bathroom. She knew which was which and knocked hard on the right one.
"Severus!" Pause. "Severus, you're late for class!"
When she got no reply, Minerva pushed the door open. Severus looked like he was still asleep. She moved round the bed, bent over him and prodded his shoulder.
"Gerrof," Severus mumbled.
"You're late. Get up."
He pulled the covers over his head. "'S'Saturday."
"It is not Saturday, it is Friday. You still have a day of lessons before the weekend. And your first class started five minutes ago."
Severus groaned loudly. "'Kay, 'kay, getting up." He yawned. "Who d'you think y'are anyway, m'mother?"
"Very funny. Up!"
He dragged himself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to wake him up. "I hate Fridays."
"Join the club."
"Shouldn't you be teaching your own class?" Severus asked, glancing round at Minerva.
"Albus is holding the fort. Hurry up. You've got the sixth-year snakes and lions waiting."
Severus groaned. "Did you have to remind me? That class is even worse since those boys both got through the OWL. Why couldn't one of them have failed?" he said miserably. "Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have been at each other's throats all bloody month. And they're getting worse every lesson."
"If the other teachers can put up with them, I'm sure you can, Severus," Minerva rebuked. She handed him a cup of coffee and bread roll. He gulped the drink down in one and burnt his mouth. "Ouch!" Severus bit into the roll, shooed Minerva into the next room and pulled off his nightshirt.
"It's not a question of putting up with them. I've given out ten detentions, taken two hundred points from each house and somehow resisted the urge not to bang their heads together when they're trying to sabotage the others' cauldrons all lesson. Draco nearly killed the whole class on Wednesday." Severus shuddered at the memory, wolfed down the rest of the bread and finished doing up his robes. "Ready."
"Well, maybe we should find a more effective way of punishing them than taking points and making them scrub cauldrons." Minerva brushed off the front of his robes. "Go on, get to your class."
Severus groaned but accepted the kiss on the cheek before rushing off, hoping he wouldn't arrive to find the classroom had been blown up.
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It was worse.
In the ten minutes waiting for their teacher to turn up, The Boys had started an all-out duel, Slytherins versus the Gryffindors. Hexes were flying everywhere when Severus arrived. Some of them he recognised to be dangerous.
"ENOUGH!" he bellowed. The class fell deadly silent. And the other teachers wondered why he lost his temper so much with this class. Theory and wand-waving didn't invite half as much mischief. "Wands," he instructed, holding out his hands. The class all slowly handed them over for confiscation. "You two," he pointed at the two team leaders. "Follow me. Now."
The black-haired Gryffindor and the blonde Slytherin followed in silence. The first was limping and the second had a cut on his head. Fortunately, when Severus' eyes had swept the class, the others didn't seem to be hurt. Not knowing where else to take them, he led them up to the Hospital Wing. Poppy would keep them both in overnight which would give him time to think how to deal with them.
"In," he instructed. "Madam Pomfrey!"
Harry looked like he wasn't sure whether to be relieved he wasn't punishing them and dismay at being back in the Hospital Wing for the hundredth time. Draco just looked at the floor. Poppy emerged from her office and immediately started fussing.
"Duel in the corridor," he told her. "Keep them in until they receive notification of their punishment. That might not be till the morning," he threatened to them, "so if I were you I would behave until then if you don't want me to extend it." He nodded to Poppy. "I have a class to get back to. Good day, Poppy."
With that, he swept off towards the dungeons.
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It wasn't fair. Malfoy had started every single one of their confrontations. All Harry was doing was defending himself, and often his friends. So why was he being punished?
Maybe he should appeal to his Head of House, Harry thought, punching his pillow. Professor McGonagall was strict but she was also fair. And after last year, he suspected that she had a soft spot for him. Perhaps she would listen, because Snape certainly didn't.
Madam Pomfrey had cut off a section of the Hospital Wing just for the two of them. It was just him and Malfoy, who was already settled in bed with his back to him. Having had their wands confiscated, there was no danger of any more hex exchanges. Harry felt strange out the dormitory. It was too quiet. His hand went up to the chain round his neck.
He'd had it ever since he could remember. It had been in a box among the blankets when he was left with the Dursleys. They couldn't open it and just left it gathering dust in storage till he found it. It was a fine gold chain with an engraved semi-circle hanging from it, like a gold half-moon. There was what looked like half a crest, consisting of a tiny serpent and a bolt of lightning superimposed on top of it, with a few tiny words below which he could only make out a few letters of. Although he could tell they were Latin, he had no idea what they meant.
According to Hermione, most pureblood families (at least the ones that could afford it) gave their children chains like these when they were born. Ron didn't have one, but he knew some of his cousins had them. Normally the Latin engraving would be the family motto. Hermione had also told him that normally the pendants were a full circle. The only time they were Harry's shape was if the wearer was a twin, or at least had once been a twin.
Harry had never asked an adult who knew his parents to confirm this was the reason why his was different. A part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he inevitably found that his hand went up to finger the chain if he felt lonely.
Looking up at the ceiling, Harry wondered what it would have been like if he'd been a twin. He might have had someone who didn't hate him with the Dursleys. Someone to share the fame with, and the pain of losing Sirius. Someone who was always there when his friends couldn't be. Someone who saw him as a brother rather than the Boy-Who-Lived.
A snore emanated from the bed next to him and Harry had to stifle a chuckle. If only Ron could hear this, he thought. He sighed and closed his eyes. If Snape was thinking up a particularly nasty detention, it wouldn't pay to be tired during it. He pulled the covers over his head to try and shut out Malfoy's snores.
It must have worked, because not long afterwards Harry found himself drifting off.
"If anyone deserves it, it's
her." Dumbledore surveyed the bitterness in his voice and
said sadly, "Do you really think so, Harry? Do you think anyone
deserves the Cruciatus?" The tone in his voice made Harry
think. "I … don't know." He slumped back on his pillow. "I
don't know what to think anymore." Sirius … falling
through the veil … the look of glee on her face … "Yes,"
he said firmly a minute later. "Who can really judge?"
Dumbledore pressed. "Harry, how do you know Bellatrix was even in
control at the time?" Harry looked at him in surprise, and he
continued, "Plenty of Death Eaters pleaded that they were under
control of the Imperious. Just because the Malfoys, for instance,
lied doesn't mean they all did." "Bellatrix Lestrange
didn't plead innocent," Harry spat. "I saw her trial, remember?
In your Pensieve. She was proud of what she'd done. If she'd been
under Imperious it would have fallen when Voldemort lost his
power." Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Not if it
wasn't the Imperious she was under." Harry stared at him.
"Professor, are you seriously trying to tell me something here?
Apart from not to judge who deserves to be tortured, I mean." This
time Dumbledore nodded.
It was easier to upload blame of Sirius' death onto the person who had killed him. But now there was a complication. Harry didn't know how to feel. He wished Dumbledore had never told him.
The face of Bellatrix Lestrange in the Pensieve, openly declaring her loyalty to Voldemort; her estranged madness from the years in Azkaban looking up at him from the newspaper; the look of glee on her face as Sirius fell through the Veil …
Harry punched the wall in frustration. All it did was hurt his fist. Sucking it, he looked around at Malfoy and was surprised to see him awake, staring at him.
"What are you looking at?" he snapped. Quietly.
Malfoy didn't move. Ouch, that had hurt. Harry rubbed his fist with his other hand, waiting for his roommate to speak. "Well?"
"What did you do that for?"
"The wall insulted me," Harry said sarcastically. "Go back to sleep, Malfoy."
He rolled over and pulled the covers back up. There was silence in the room for a moment before he heard Malfoy climb out of bed and make his way over to the window. Harry lay listening to his attempts to open it for a while before he couldn't stand it any longer.
"Got a problem?" he asked, sitting up. Malfoy, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, shot a glare at him.
"It's hot. Help me open this."
Harry didn't think it was that hot, but not being able to sleep and having nothing better to do he put on his glasses, slid out of bed and joined in Malfoy's attempts to prise the window open. After a moment of combined struggling, the window suddenly shot open and Malfoy nearly fell out. Harry instinctively grabbed his arm. "Careful!"
"I was," Malfoy grunted, pulling away. "Let go of me."
"Fine," Harry muttered, letting the ungratefulness pass him by. As he turned to go back to bed, he spotted something and stared.
"Now what's your problem?"
Harry pointed. "You've got one too?"
Malfoy looked down as the fine gold semi-circle on his chest. "So?"
"It's half a circle."
"I know," Malfoy said in a tone he might use to address someone thick. "It's called a Venustus Ortus– a Birth Charm. All the purebloods receive them the day they're born," he said in his I'm-so-perfect-because-I'm-a-Malfoy voice. "Something I wouldn't expect a Muggle-raised Gryffindor to know."
"No they don't," Harry said in reference to his second sentence, ignoring the last remark. "They get full circles. You're a twin."
Malfoy's face hardened. "I was once," he snapped. "He died. End of story. Get lost, Potter."
"Can I see it?"
"Why?" Malfoy asked suspiciously.
Harry shrugged. "Well, if you think it's not good enough to show me …"
Malfoy scowled and handed him the chain. Harry peered closely at it. The half crest contained nothing more than a Snitch, and the Latin words at the bottom were incomplete, like on his.
A strange, crazy idea coming to him, Harry pulled his own charm out of his pyjamas. Malfoy started.
"You've got one too? … Oh yeah, I guess your father was a pureblood …" He trailed off. "What are you doing?"
Harry was holding the two semi-circles close together. Malfoy's went a different way – put together, they made up a full circle. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the tiny words engraved seemed clearer – clear enough to read.
"Una nos sto," Harry read from his own, then from Malfoy's, "tribuo nos cado." He looked up at Malfoy. "What does that mean?"
"Er … Together we … something …" Malfoy frowned. "I don't know, I can't remember all my Latin. So?"
"It just … sounds like … it should go together … like it's two parts of one phrase … doesn't it?"
Malfoy pulled away. "So? Maybe your father's family had a similar motto to mine -"
"The markings," Harry pressed, "round the crest – look -" He pulled on Malfoy's charm and brought them together again. "Look, they're identical. It's the same crest."
"Don't be -" Malfoy started in annoyance, but broke off with a gasp – As Harry had touched the charms together, a burst of magic seemed to jolt through them both. Harry also gasped, but not because of the shock – Malfoy's face was changing before his eyes.
Harry let go of the chains and stumbled backwards, staring as the sleek blonde hair gave way to messy brown, and the grey eyes turned green. Malfoy's chin became less pointed, his nose longer, his cheekbones more prominent. He was turning into someone else.
"What?" Malfoy asked him, puzzled. Harry pointed at is face as the last changed took place.
"You might want to look in a mirror," he said shakily.
There was a long one at the other end of the ward. Malfoy pushed Harry aside and raced to get there – then, once he saw his reflection, he froze in horror and all blood drained from his new face.
"I – I – I -" he stammered, before finally, "I l-look like you!"
Harry swallowed. His brain seemed to have stopped functioning.
"I don't believe it!" Malfoy gasped, drawing nearer to the mirror. "Oh my God!" he yelled. "What have you done to me???"
"What is all this noise?" a sharp voice snapped from behind them. "Really, boys, I'm going to have to deduct -" Madam Pomfrey broke off mid-sentence as she saw Malfoy. "Oh," she said quietly.
"Oh?" Malfoy copied her, his hysterical voice questioning. "Oh?? Is that all you can say?? What's Potter done to me???"
"Mr Mal – Draco, be quiet!" Madam Pomfrey snapped.
It was the correction that seemed to shut Draco up more than her raised voice. Harry just stared, trying to put two and two together. Somehow, the pieces wouldn't fit into place. Draco looked almost exactly like him, only with brown hair instead of black, and no glasses.
It didn't take a genius to put two and two together, but Harry had gone completely numb. It couldn't be – it couldn't be …
"Sit down, both of you," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. She looked more tired than Harry had ever seen her, and she was wearing a dressing-gown with her brown curls loose instead of pinned back like usual.
Harry and Draco sat. And Madam Pomfrey explained.
TBC … AN:
Review Responses (sorry, I forgot to do these last chapter):
something-like-love: Yes, it does look like that; and yes, the point of a good fanfiction is to keep readers guessing …
ImSoMMAD: Well, I like to think Albus was tempted to kill him … interesting point, maybe I should raise it in a few chapters. Well, you now know what Albus said to Harry. When you say what Albus did, you mean Bella 'escaping'? And he told the truth because it's related to the other revelation in this chapter, which he knew Harry would have to know soon so he was letting him know a little to prepare him a bit more for the rest … You write lovely reviews, keep it up!
Thanks also to mrs-estabella-potter, XxmychemicalromanceisawesmexX, Chris Ann, joy, kazalvr, rosiegirl and WhiteGreen for reviewing