Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in posting. I am afraid I am having technical difficulties (my home computer has died:(). this leaves me with only my iPad and work computer to do any writing, editing, and posting. As of yet, I have not figured a way to post from my iPad. So, posts from here on out may be sporadic.
I do want to thank everyone who has read and commented so far, and if I have't responded to your comments, it's only because life has gotten far too crazy for me to keep up. However, I appreciate every comment, so please continue!
Thanks, as always, must go out to my betas, Arnel, Brennus, and seekers_destiny! If there are any mistakes in this chapter, ther are mine alone. Enjoy!
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Vernon Dursley's livid face, deep maroon in colour, appeared at the bottom of the tree Harry was perched in. Grabbing the trunk with his meaty hands, the large man shook the tree vigorously in an attempt to dislodge his nephew.
"Boy," he seethed, his low, angry voice more frightening than when he was yelling and spitting in vexation. "Come down from that tree this instant and clean up the mess you caused in the kitchen."
Marge Dursley's ugly bulldog, Ripper had chased Harry through the kitchen and dining room after he had accidentally stepped on the dog's paw. Aunt Petunia had been in the middle of clearing the dinner plates and the dog, running under her feet had caused her to drop the gravy boat, splattering the carpet and walls with the thick, brown gravy. Harry had quickly scrambled outside and up the tree out of reach of Ripper's vicious claws and teeth, and spent hours shivering on the branch. Slobber had dripped from the dog's jowls and tongue as it continued to snarl and bark as it jumped at the tree, scratching the trunk with its claws.
At midnight Aunt Marge had finally called the beast off, with Dudley laughing uproariously behind her. Vernon had stood in the doorway of the sunroom simmering, and Harry knew he was in serious trouble when his uncle did not disappear back inside after his sister and son.
Swallowing, Harry began to extricate himself from the branch he had wrapped his arms and legs around, finding it more difficult than he would have imagined. After having clung to it for hours, he had lost feeling in his limbs and they were stiff and sore. The electric tingles of his nerves coming back to life did little to enable him to move at the pace his uncle required and before he was half-way down the trunk, Vernon grabbed Harry's right ankle in a vice-like grip, yanking him the rest of the way.
Harry landed badly on his left foot, and he felt his ankle twist painfully. Grimacing, he attempted to keep his balance, but toppled over in a heap at his uncle's feet; a dangerous position for him to be in. Harry attempted to scramble out of the way, but his uncle's foot found its target in Harry's side. He grunted in pain as Vernon's heavy loafer connected with his ribs.
"Get up," Vernon snarled.
Severus stood in the shed at the Burrow, his black eyes blazing with fury as he gazed down at the dark-haired boy sitting hunched on the stool before him. He had yet again been subjected to another torturous vision of Harry's dark past and Severus was of half a mind to storm out of the shed immediately in order to run away from facing the boy and to rain retribution down upon the head of Petunia Dursley nee Evans. Bile rose in Severus' throat; she had no right to bear that name, there was little of Lily in her loathsome sister. Silently, he withdrew a small vial of Reinvigorating Draught and handed it to Harry, who took it with a trembling hand.
"The Dark Lord will take such memories and twist them in your mind mercilessly until you are slowly driven insane," Severus said quietly, looking past the boy's shoulders to gaze out the grimy window. The Weasley garden was beginning to blossom and the cheerful sound of birds chirping in the trees sharply contrasted with the pallor in the shed.
The Potions Master had decided to work with Harry alone hoping the distraction of Ginny's nearness would allow him to focus on blocking such visions from Severus. However, it seemed to have had the opposite effect and, if anything had only lessened Harry's ability to channel his thoughts. Severus knew the girl lurked just outside the door, and was somewhat surprised she had not burst in, outraged.
Harry lifted the vial to his lips and drank the contents quickly. "Why do you speak about Voldemort as if he were still alive?" he asked, twisting the flacon in his hand. "Everybody else seems to think he is dead."
"And that you defeated him," Severus couldn't help the faint edge of derision that laced his voice. The fresh vision of a mere Muggle getting the better of Harry entering his mind. "Do you think you possessed the power to defeat the Dark Lord when you were merely a baby?"
Harry shook his head mutely.
"Then I do not think he is dead, and neither should you," Severus informed the boy. "He is biding his time, awaiting the right moment to return to power, and you must be ready. For I can assure you, he will be looking for you especially. You must learn to guard your deepest secrets."
"Why can't I put those memories behind me?" Harry asked, lifting his head to look at Severus, and the elder wizard was pleased to note that the sight of Lily's eyes gazing out at him from James' face no longer tormented him quite as much as when he had first met the boy.
"I do not know. It is as if some part of you relishes reliving them. Perhaps we are going about this the wrong way. You are trying to suppress the memories in order for me not to see them," Severus continued, "When I touch upon something Ginny does not want me to see, she produces another, trivial memory to replace her treasured one. Perhaps you should do the same."
"How?" Harry asked.
"I suggest thinking of something that is directly opposed to these torturous memories," Severus remarked and Harry grimaced.
"I don't particularly want you to see my treasured memories either," he stated, his cheeks reddening, and Severus could deduce that Harry's friendship with Ginny was, so far, the only good thing to have happened in his unfortunate life.
"You are fortunate to now have the opportunity for a different life," the elder wizard counselled, "and that you have found such a good friend in Ginny. You are right to guard the moments you share with her, but if we are to have any hope of you progressing and learning to guard all of your thoughts, you must be willing to attempt what I ask."
Severus paused, reflecting upon the boy's budding friendship with Ginny, and how when Severus arrived at the Burrow they were usually sitting underneath the large oak tree in the garden. Sometimes they were playing a game of Gobstones on a dry patch of earth near the base of the tree, or sitting with their heads together conversing softly. In those moments, Severus was reminded of his time with Lily, when they had first met and he would spin tales of wonder about the magical world she knew nothing about.
"I, too, had a friend like Ginny, and she meant everything to me," Severus murmured, visions of Lily's beautiful, smiling face swimming before his eyes.
"What happened to her?" Harry asked.
"I allowed my dark thoughts to consume me and I lost her forever," Severus answered. "Do not allow the same thing to happen to you."
Glancing back out the window, he could see the sky had darkened and a faint scuff by the shed door indicated the growing impatience of the little girl waiting on the other side. Looking back at Harry, some colour had returned to his cheeks, but Severus noted the dull look in the boy's eyes and knew he was thoroughly exhausted.
"It is late and I do not think you are up to another attempt today," he stated. "During your meditation this week, sift through your memories and select one or two positive ones you think you will be able to readily draw upon when we resume next Saturday. The simpler, the better, Harry. Do not overthink."
"Yes, Professor Snape," Harry said as he slipped off the stool and handed him the empty vial. Severus pocketed it within his robes as they headed towards the door of the shed. Before they had reached it, Ginny pulled it open to peer in expectantly.
"Mum wants to know if you will stay for dinner tonight, Professor Snape?" Ginny asked. "She won't take no for an answer this time, I don't think."
He had been about to decline as he had on all the previous occasions that the Weasley matriarch had offered a dinner invitation, however, there were no pressing matters to attend to at Hogwarts, and he would like to observe how the children interacted naturally. Perhaps it would aid him with understanding how better to teach Harry.
"Then I will acquiesce to your mother's wishes," Severus replied as she took the boy's hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly. He observed as the girl's eyes flashed with concern before she turned away, drawing her friend out into the waning sunlight.
Severus followed slowly behind them, as they walked towards the house. Molly appeared at the kitchen window and waved at him, and he waved absent-mindedly back, continuing to watch the children. At the sight of Molly, Harry quickly withdrew his hand from Ginny's tight grasp and the young girl turned her brown eyes upon her companion, her displeasure evident. Harry's small shrug of resignation caused her face to contort in annoyance, but she made no move to reclaim what she clearly thought was her right. Harry's eyes flicked back towards the window where Ginny's mother still stood, and the girl diverted her annoyance to the true source of her pique.
Severus found himself fascinated by the brief exchange, as it was becoming clearer to him the children had found a far more intimate way of communicating than by using words.
Supper was a subdued affair, with Molly and Arthur inquiring after their other four children at Hogwarts and how they were fairing in Potions. Severus attempted to keep his disdain for the twins from his answers, but it was clear that both elder Weasleys understood all too well his feelings upon the matter. They were, however, delighted to hear affirmations that Percy was excelling in Potions and would no doubt receive high marks when he took his O.W.L.s. It was too early to tell with their youngest son, Ron, as his Potions partner, Seamus was not very gifted in the art. Severus had since separated the two boys to save the class from any further explosions, but his efforts had not been received well; being perceived by the two boys as bullying. Of course, he left that part out of the story and was relieved to see that Arthur and Molly seemed to agree with his actions.
Ginny and Harry contributed little to the dinner conversation, although it was clear that Harry especially was paying attention to the exchange. Severus wondered if he would take after his mother in regards to Potions, and was surprised to find that he was somewhat looking forward to finding out in the upcoming school year when the two children began their careers at Hogwarts. Throughout dinner he observed several more occasions where he thought the children were communicating silently, but their actions appeared to go unnoticed by the girl's parents. Legilimency, Occlumency, and telepathy went hand in hand. If their telepathic skills were strengthening, then perhaps Severus could use it to enhance Harry's disadvantage he had over his partner. With time, the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Muggles would hopefully fade, but for now the boy was still struggling internally with his own feelings of inadequacy and it was severely affecting his progress. If he could learn to harness Ginny's innate ability in the meantime, then maybe Harry would have a bit of a breakthrough and gain more confidence.
While Harry's lack of presumption in his magical abilities reminded Severus of Lily when she was her son's age, and allowed him to exhibit none of his father's undesirable traits, the cause of that inhibition made Severus' blood boil. He hated to think what Lily would think of her sister's betrayal, and again he was reminded that it was his initial betrayal of his friend that had caused it all to spiral so wildly out of control.
With these sobering thoughts, Severus excused himself from the company of the Weasleys soon after the dessert of trifle was served. He quietly thanked Molly for the supper, reminded his pupils to practice, and soon found himself in the cool quiet of his dungeon office, at his desk staring at a ripped photo he held in his hands. Despite her green eyes which looked profoundly sad, the woman with dark auburn hair was still beautiful. She wandered in the picture looking in the portion of the door frame that appeared in the picture and under the sofa. The expression on her face was so similar to the one Lily had given him at their last meeting, that his heart clenched in his chest, knowing once again he was the cause of her pain.
She'd just exited St. Mungo's, a dreamy smile gracing her lips, her creamy ivory skin glowing in the late afternoon light. It had been providence than he had happened to be on his way to pick up potion supplies when he bumped into her.
"Severus," she said in shock as she stopped short. Her auburn hair was neatly pulled back in a half pony-tail, and the diamond on her ring finger flashed as she shielded her eyes to see him better. "What are you doing here?"
"Picking up potion supplies I need," he answered. "And you? Are you ill?"
She shook her head. "No. Just a check-up," she said succinctly, and he knew she was keeping a vital piece of information from him. She had never been good at lying.
He studied her. He had not seen her since their final day at school, and that had only been at a distance. He had heard that she and Potter had married not long after and joined the forces fighting against the Dark Lord. Voldemort had set his sights on domination of the magical world and all those who stood in his way would fall. Potter, Black, Lupin, the Longbottoms, and countless others had been instrumental in several attacks against the Death Eaters, undermining the Dark Lord's attempts at gaining a foothold in the Ministry. While he had not had official verification that Lily had been at any of the battle scenes, he had no doubt she had been involved. She was too powerful and strong-willed a witch to simply stay behind while her husband and friends entered into the fray.
"Your life will be forfeit if you stay with Potter," Severus warned.
"You gave up the right to counsel me the day you threw our friendship away," Lily sadly replied.
"Please, Lily," Severus implored. "I have spoken to him. He will spare you if you turn your back on Potter and come with me now."
"He's a monster," Lily spat. "And you're insane if you think he will spare a Mudblood like me."
"Don't call yourself that," Severus remarked harshly.
"Why?" she asked. "You did once."
"And I have regretted it every day since," he softly replied. "Lily, I lo..."
She shook her head violently. "Don't say it," was her cold reply as her eyes filled with disgust. "You were my first true friend and I loved you once, but you turned your back on me and our friendship. James was there for me when you weren't. He championed me when your friends were harassing anyone who wasn't of pure blood. It's too late. I'm in love with him, not you."
"Look what has already happened to your parents because of him," Severus implored. "Lily, please…"
"My parents," Lily gasped, her eyes widening in horrific surprise. "Did you know?"
Severus' heart clenched and not bearing to look into her pain-filled green eyes, he averted his gaze to study the grimy brick wall behind her.
A small sob caught in Lily's throat. "You knew he had targeted them and you said nothing! My mother took you in. You sat at her table. She fed you and treated you like one of her own, as your own mother never could. You let him KILL them!
"My sister, who already despised me, won't even talk to me now!" Lily railed. "She blames me for their deaths." Her eyes filled with tears. "I blame myself. You were my best friend, Severus. My best friend!"
"Lily," he said dumbly.
"We're through," she whispered. "I don't ever want to see or hear from you again." She pressed her hand against her belly as she pushed past him, breathing heavily, her eyes swimming with tears. He said nothing as she moved past him and walked down the lane. Never once did she look back, but he watched her until she disappeared around the corner.
He had never seen her alive again, and had spent the next months hoping everything would turn out all right until that fateful night he overheard the prophecy. Stupidly, he had told Voldemort, not realizing the danger he was putting Lily in until it was too late. The Dark Lord had ignored his pleadings to spare her, and Severus had stumbled blindly away after his master had finished 'conditioning' him. His body still trembling from the Cruciatus Curse, Severus had gone to the only other wizard he could think of who may be able to save Lily, his former headmaster, Dumbledore. The anger that had alighted in Albus' eyes that night was like nothing Severus had ever seen from him, and had given him renewed hope that in this man, Voldemort would finally meet his match, but it had not been enough. Albus never engaged the Dark Lord, and his attempts to hide Lily and her family away had failed.
Severus had spent the past ten years grieving for her and now here he sat, looking at the only picture he had left of her. He had acquired it when they had searched the treacherous traitor, Sirius Black's house for evidence of his betrayal. Unfortunately, none had been found, but Black had been sent to Azkaban, where he belonged for delivering Lily to the hands of the Dark Lord. Potter had always been a fool to trust Black and had received his just desserts, as far as Severus was concerned.
Potter, the bane of his existence since they had first set foot at Hogwarts and still to this day, Severus could not be rid of him. Harry's pinched and drawn face came to him, and how at one point in time Severus would have liked nothing more than to see Potter put in such a position his own son had been forced to endure.
A knock came to his office door before it was nudged open and Albus appeared in the doorway. He wore his favoured deep purple robes covered in stars and moons. Severus had always despised those robes, as they were the epitome of the stereotypical robes one would expect a wizened mage with a long white beard and hair to wear. He said nothing as the headmaster entered the chamber, as he had come here deliberately to avoid having to see the old man.
"You did not stop by to see me, as you normally do, my friend," the headmaster stated unnecessarily. "How did things go today with Harry and Ginny?"
Severus did not answer at first, and instead gazed out the window of his office, observing how the pale light of the moon reflected off the murky waters of the lake. His hatred of Potter waned as images of the Dursleys' cruelty towards their nephew played over again in his mind, and how the headmaster must have known. How could he have not? Surely, after leaving Harry on their doorstep, he must have checked in from time to time to ensure the child was faring well. Otherwise, why would he care if Severus assisted him in keeping Harry safe while he attended Hogwarts? Albus waited patiently beside him, an irksome trait the man had of not pressing a matter, knowing full well his intended target would cave eventually under his piercing blue stare.
"How could you have let Harry stay in that house all these years?" he finally asked.
"What do you mean, Severus?" Albus responded, knitting his white brows in confusion.
"Don't begin to tell me you didn't know what those Muggles were like," Severus spat. "What they did."
Instead of continuing to pretend he didn't understand what Severus was talking about, Albus' face fell and he sighed. "I knew."
"And you did nothing?" Severus whispered in shock. "They abused him, belittled him, treated him worse than a house-elf and you stood by and allowed it to happen for ten years, Albus. Lily would be most displeased."
"The only other guardian Lily had appointed for Harry before she died was unfit to care for him," Albus reminded him. "Sirius Black betrayed Lily and James. Had they known of his treachery before their deaths, I am sure they would have made other arrangements for Harry. However, they did not, and it was left to me to do what I thought best for him.
"The blood ties he shared with Petunia Dursley kept him hidden from the Wizarding world," Albus said. "Harry was protected from Tom and his followers there."
"But you did not deem it necessary to protect him from the hands of those Muggle monsters," Severus hissed. "He would have been protected here. You are always touting how strong the wards are here at Hogwarts. How they can never fall. Here he would have been protected from the Dark Lord and them." This last was filled with the extreme venom he felt for the Dursleys.
Albus sighed again and sat in one of the chairs that faced the Potion Master's desk.
"I marvel at the change in you these past few months," Albus observed as he studied his friend. "You had resigned yourself to loathing him, and now you have become his champion. Have you found a kindred spirit in young Harry; perhaps one that reminds you of yourself at his age?"
Severus clenched his jaw in anger. "I would wish what I suffered at the hands of my mother on no one, save my vilest enemies. To see Lily's child treated much the same or worse even is unconscionable. Had I known -"
"You would have done nothing," Albus admonished. "I did not remove Harry from the Dursleys' care for to do so would have robbed him of the strength of perseverance he now possesses. The abuse he suffered has made him stronger. Have you not gained a sense of his will? It has not been broken by them.
"If he had been raised here, he would not know what it means to fight to survive. Everything would have been easy for him. He would be weaker for it," Albus explained.
"I cannot begin to fathom how you can justify that case," Severus responded, appalled.
"It was not a decision I made lightly, I can assure you, Severus," Albus replied. "You could have taken it upon yourself to check on Harry, as well, but you did not because you had already decided to despise the boy before having even met him."
"And you knew of his nature and did nothing to protect him!" Severus venomously retorted.
"Believe me when I tell you, I was most unhappy to have to sit by and do nothing, Severus," Albus sighed greatly. "However, it was and is for the best. Tom suffered much as Harry did and by the time he was Harry's age, was already well on his way down the Dark path he had chosen. Yet, within Harry, despite Vernon and Petunia Dursley's best efforts, there remains a conscience, worthy and pure. I seriously doubt the bond between himself and Ginny would be so strong or have held if that were not the case. What have you observed of that?"
Severus again paused to collect himself, taking deep breaths to clear out the anger that had arisen in him over the injustices Harry had already suffered in his life. Blowing his breath out slowly, he found his composure and once again became the calm, cool persona he usually exhibited.
"Their connection appears to be strengthening," he informed Albus. "As you had hoped it would."
"Have you revealed any of your past to Harry yet?" Albus pressed, no doubt hoping that the Potions Master would have decided to open up a bit to the young boy.
"No," Severus replied, bristling, "And I would wish that you would stop pressing me on that matter."
"Very well," Albus remarked, "but I think you are making a mistake by not doing so. However, I will not mention it again and leave you to decide how you wish to proceed on the matter."
He brushed his long beard as he contemplated his friend. "There is another matter we need to attend to."
"What is it?" Severus asked, noting the way Albus' eyes had narrowed in concern.
"Hagrid has brought to my attention the fact that it appears something is attacking the unicorns in the Dark Forest," the headmaster informed him. "He would like to take a party to investigate tomorrow morning, and I would like you to be a part of it."
"Does he have any idea what may be the cause?" Severus asked.
"None, and it is most unsettling," the aged wizard before him said. "You and I both know unicorns are among the most revered of magical beasts. There is nothing neither Hagrid nor I know of that resides in forest that would be capable of the mutilation our grounds keeper has witnessed."
The Potion's Master nodded his agreement. "I will be sure to make myself available to you."
"Thank you, my friend," Albus said, rising from his seat. "I will leave you now." He paused in turning to leave and looked Severus over. "Please, try not to dwell on what was, but on what may be. We cannot change the past, but we can choose paths for the future that may lead us to how we wish it to be."
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Even though Albus had asked Severus to keep an eye on Quirinus, he had decided to pay closer attention, as well. Since he had rehired him he hadn't given much thought to the man, aside from occasionally observing that he seemed even more skittish than usual. Albus had charged Quirinus with procuring and handling a troll to help protect the Philosopher's Stone, hoping that would ease the man's misgivings, whatever they may be. Instead, he had allowed the troll to escape and run rampant in the school. It had been extremely fortunate that a student had not been injured and Hagrid had been able to subdue the troll.
It didn't help matters that Severus, having the foresight he was known for, had checked on the third floor corridor to find Quirinus pacing in front of the entrance muttering to himself. When Severus had confronted him the Defence professor had confessed to having the same idea as Severus and was merely ensuring the Stone was safe. Of course, Severus had not believed him and had practically insisted that Albus sack him immediately and destroy the Philosopher's Stone before another incident similar to the troll occurred. However, Albus was hesitant to destroy the Stone as it belonged to his good friend, Nicholas, and for now the stone was still hidden away in Hogwarts with five trap rooms standing between it and anyone foolish enough to attempt to steal it.
This led Albus back to the fact that Quirinus appeared unable to control a troll, so what would he do if faced with truly Dark Magic? It was too late in the year to replace him as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, but Albus thought perhaps he should begin looking for someone else to take the position for the following term, and reinstate Quirinus in his former position as the Muggle Studies professor. The current Muggle Studies professor, Charity Burbage had mentioned taking a sabbatical to study Muggles closer, so perhaps something could be arranged for the upcoming year. In the meantime, they would muddle through with things as they were.
However, Albus had even more pressing matters to attend to today than who would be on staff for the upcoming year. The spring term was well underway when Hagrid had reported to him that he had found evidence that unicorns were being attacked, and was naturally concerned over what creature would do such a horrendous thing. Albus had summoned Severus to meet him at Hagrid's, and together along with Hagrid he intended to investigate the matter further. He had already sent word to the centaurs and was hoping they would be able to shed some light on this mystery.
Walking swiftly down the path towards Hagrid's hut, he was surprised to find not only Severus and Hagrid with his boarhound, Fang, standing by the blazing fire in front of the hut, but Quirinus, as well.
"Quirinus," Albus said in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you to join us this morning."
"He was headed to the forest, Headmaster," Severus responded, casting a suspicious glance towards the Defence professor. "I informed our dear colleague of the present danger in the forest and he insisted on accompanying us on our investigation."
Albus raised an eyebrow at this. "Is that so, Quirinus?" and the timid Defence professor nodded his head in acquiescence. "Well, then," Albus continued. "We could certainly use your help and expertise. Have you been fully apprised of the situation by Hagrid?"
"Y-yes, Headmaster," Quirinus answered, his turbaned head shaking with nerves, fear, or both.
Nodding, Albus turned to the groundskeeper. "Are we ready, Hagrid?"
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid gruffly said, picking up a large lantern from the ground beside him and calling for Fang. "Come on, Fang. Let's find the poor thing."
The three professors lit their wands and followed after Hagrid and Fang. Both Quirinus and the boarhound trembled in fear as they entered the forest. Stepping over thick tree roots that snaked across the ground, Hagrid pointed out places where the silvery unicorn blood had dripped on leaves and branches as the wounded animal attempted to escape its attacker.
"Only the vilest sort kills an innocent like a unicorn," Hagrid muttered as they moved deeper into the forest. Quirinus tittered beside Albus and Severus shot him a stern glance.
"Are you feeling nervous or guilty over something, Quirinus?" he whispered. "Is there something, perhaps, you wish to confess?"
"Severus," Albus warned and smiled encouragingly over at Quirinus. "There's nothing to fear here, Quirinus. I am sure the four of us can handle whatever we encounter."
Hagrid moved a few large branches aside and allowed the others to enter a small clearing. Albus stepped through and immediately saw the pale flank of a unicorn lying behind a fallen tree. Moving around the dried, crumbling roots, he saw the beautiful creature, its neck shredded and drenched in its own blood as it feebly gasped for air. He moved to its side and the unicorn's frightened blue eyes rolled in its head as it saw him and the others standing behind him.
Kneeling, Albus placed his hand gently on the creature's muzzle to calm it. Its breath rattled in its lungs and it closed its eyes in resignation as its life passed. The final breath of the unicorn exhaled, sending a small puff of vapour into the cold air. Hagrid sniffed behind him, and turning, Albus saw the groundskeeper pulling a large red handkerchief with white polka dots out of his pocket.
"I am sorry, Hagrid," Albus said, rising. "We are too late to help."
"It deserved a better death than that!" Hagrid exclaimed.
"Indeed," Albus agreed, waving his wand to levitate the body.
"M-may I?" Quirinus asked, stepping forward and raising his wand arm to take the body from Albus. "P-perhaps the attacking c-creature left a c-clue. I'd b-be happy t-to s-study it, Professor D-dumbledore."
"That is kind of you, Quirinus," Albus said. "Please do and let us know immediately if you do so."
"It looks as though it has been drained of its blood. I know of no creature in these woods that would harm a unicorn in this way. Do you, Hagrid?" Severus asked concernedly.
"No, Professor Snape," Hagrid sniffed, wiping at his eyes and nose. "Like I said, unicorns are the gentlest, purest animals. Revered by all the others."
"Obviously, not all," Severus acidly remarked.
"I am sure Quirinus will not rest until he finds the answer he is looking for," Albus soothed. "
"Y-yes," Quirinus interjected.
"Perhaps, I should aid you in your investigation," Severus suggested.
"I w-was h-hoping H-hagrid would assist me?" Quirinus asked, looking over at the groundskeeper hopefully.
"What are you humans doing with that unicorn?" an angry voice called, accompanied by the sound of hooves angrily pawing the ground.
Albus turned towards the entrance of the clearing to see a large, black centaur standing there, his face etched in fury.
"Good morning, Bane," Albus called. "I assume you received my message?"
"You have no business here, human," Bane spat, cantering forward.
"Now see here!" Hagrid called. "That's no way ta speak ta Professor Dumbledore!"
"Release the unicorn," Bane commanded, ignoring Hagrid. "We will not have you butcher it further."
"Stand down, Bane," a calmer, melodic voice ordered, and another reddish brown centaur joined his brother in the clearing. "I apologize for his behaviour, Professor Dumbledore. We are… unsettled by the disturbances in the forest these past few moons."
"That is quite all right, Firenze," Albus stated.
"Do not apologize to these humans!" Bane exclaimed. "It is they who should apologize. They come uninvited to our forest and wreak havoc on the cycle of life here."
"Is there anything you can tell us?" Albus asked, hoping perhaps the centaurs had seen something.
"My brothers and I have been watching the stars," Firenze continued. "What they portend has confused us."
"Venus and Mars are bright," Bane muttered, his attention moving to gaze at the sky, as if seeking out the unseen planets mentioned. "More death is coming."
Quirinus visibly trembled beside Albus and his hold on the unicorn faltered. Albus quickly intervened, levitating the beast before it could fall to the ground.
Firenze's nostrils quivered, "I smell a foul stench." He looked over the humans standing before him and took a small step towards them. Quirinus stumbled backwards away from Albus and the unicorn as the centaur approached.
"S-stay back, centaur!" the Defence professor cried as he tripped over a large tree root and fell to the ground.
"Prejudice!" Bane growled, his face darkening and he stepped closer.
"Now," Albus began, intervening between them, "Quirinus did not mean it as it sounds, I assure you."
"You defend this creature?" the black centaur asked in disgust, his nose wrinkling as he angrily pawed the ground. Quirinus attempted to push himself to his feet, his ridiculous turban askew upon his head. A foul aroma filled the clearing, evident even to the humans and half-giant present.
"You have brought a monster among us," Firenze whispered, his flanks trembling as he nervously pawed the ground and gazed at Quirinus. "It is here."
"Of what do you speak, Firenze?" Albus asked.
"Nothing!" Quirinus shouted, scrambling over the ground in an attempt to get away from the agitated centaurs. "He speaks of nothing, Headmaster!"
Severus stepped between the clearing exit and the escaping Defence professor, his wand appearing in his right hand as he stared the man down.
"Move, Severus," he demanded, his wand now in his hand, as well.
"What happened to your stutter, Quirinus?" the Potions Master asked, his dark eyebrow arching over his eye.
"You cannot stop me!" Quirinus cried, sending a curse hurtling towards Severus. He dodged out of the way, sending a Blasting Curse towards his attacker. It hit the ground where Quirinus had been standing, sending dirt flying through the air. He was running towards the other side of the clearing, looking behind him to cast another curse at the men remaining in the clearing. Bane galloped to intercept him, rearing on his hind legs. Sending another curse towards Severus, Quirinus turned in time to see Bane just before the centaur's hooves battered him about the face and chest. Pushing the man to the ground, Bane continued to maul him. The Defence professor cried in pain even as he levelled his wand upon the enraged centaur.
"No, Bane!" Hagrid bellowed, charging across the clearing towards the duo.
"Avada Kedavra!" came a strangled cry from Quirinus as a sickly green light emerged from the tip of his wand.
"Expelliarmus!" Albus roared angrily, and the Defence professor's wand soared through the air to land firmly in the Headmaster's outstretched left hand, but it was too late. The Killing Curse hit Bane squarely in the chest and he crumpled to the ground, falling atop the wizard who had murdered him.
"Bane!" Firenze exclaimed, as cries of agony filled the clearing.
Quirinus flailed beneath the fallen centaur, his eyes widening in alarm as his body went rigid. The turban about his head had come unravelled in Bane's attack and Albus could see the man's complexion beneath was pasty white and he was completely bald. His head turned from side to side, and his body shuddered in agony. In all Quirinus' thrashing, Albus caught an appalling glimpse of a ghostly visage embedded in the back of the man's skull.
"Tom," he whispered as he took a step closer to gain a better vantage point of the spectacle. A roar of anger filled the clearing upon his approach and a ghostly shadow swiftly departed the Defence professor's body. It swept towards Albus, nothing more than a black filmy mist with glowing red eyes before dispersing over the heads of the disbelieving bystanders left in the clearing. A fierce wind followed in its wake and dark storm clouds rolled over the sky after the apparition.
With the departure of the parasitic being, Quirinus' body stilled completely. Albus knelt beside him, and gently rolled the wizard to his back. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the trees above him.
"You were right," Severus gasped from where he stood rooted to his spot. Albus merely nodded, knowing to what his friend was referring. Voldemort was attempting to return, and it appeared Quirinus had been his first victim. Thankfully, the Philospher's Stone still lay hidden safely away within the castle, but it would have to be destroyed.
"Darkness is upon us all," Firenze murmured, gazing up at the black clouds that were clearing as suddenly as they had appeared. "Only the light can save us."
hghghghg ghghghgh
The previous evening, after Professor Snape had left them and they had cleared the table and tidied up the kitchen, the Weasleys and Harry settled in the sitting room as had become the norm over the winter. Mrs Weasley pulled her knitting from the basket that sat by her chair and set the needles to continuing the afghan she was currently working on. Mr Weasley sat in his favourite armchair and pulled a book called Learn to Drive in 10 Easy Stages he had picked up in a Muggle bookshop around the corner from the Ministry.
As Ginny had predicted, it hadn't taken much to convince her father on the idea of a drive to Godric's Hollow, but her mother had been more reticent. After ensuring her father was on board, the children and he had spent the better part of the winter dropping subtle hints and complaining of suffering from severe cabin fever. It was true they hadn't gone anywhere since their trip to Ottery St Catchpole for the Bonfire Night celebration, and it hadn't take much acting on Ginny's and Harry's part. However, Ginny thought it was the sight of Harry pouring over the few pages in his History of Magic book containing information on his parents that had finally convinced her mother they should take the trip. She had glimpsed a look of worry light her mother's eyes on occasion, which was a sure sign she was wavering. Meanwhile, her father had spent most of his spare time tinkering with the car and studying maps, and no doubt Mrs Weasley wanted to please him, as well.
So, it was with some trepidation she had agreed to the trip, which had resulted in broad smiles from Mr Weasley and the two children. She couldn't possibly back out after that reception. She had informed them that they would not go until all the snow had melted and spring was well under way, but that was something they all could readily agree upon.
The weather had since turned and spring was definitely upon them, and they were to set out early Sunday morning in order to give them plenty of time to reach their destination and allow for a wrong turn or two along the way. While Mr Weasley was confident in his driving ability and had assured his wife he had been practicing every weekend since the snow had melted, she was still nervous about the planned adventure.
That evening, after looking over the driving manual one final time, Mr Weasley announced that he was more than ready for the trip and suggested they retire to bed early in order to get an early start the next morning.
By the time Ginny and Harry arrived in the kitchen upon awaking, Mr Weasley was already outside getting the car ready and Mrs Weasley was packing up their lunch of corned beef sandwiches. Turning from the hamper, she greeted the children and proceeded to make them a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. They settled into the routine that had become the norm, with Ginny retrieving the orange juice from the chiller and Harry setting the table. He found he didn't mind at all assisting Ginny's mother with chores and actually found the moments they spent together working silently to be quite pleasant. He was just placing the final piece of cutlery when Mrs Weasley turned from the stove with two heaping plates of food and smiled over at him.
"Thank you, Harry," she said and Harry felt his cheeks burn and his eyes widened at her acknowledgement. While she had never treated him like his aunt and he had always sensed she appreciated his efforts, this was the first time Ginny's mother had ever actually vocalized her feelings.
"You're welcome, Mrs Weasley," he managed before taking his place before the plate she set in front of him.
Mr Weasley returned from pulling the car out of the shed, announcing that the automobile was in tip-top order, and sat at his place just as his wife set his breakfast before him. They ate quickly, as they all were eager to be off, and quickly washed up.
The drive to Godric's Hollow was uneventful. Mr Weasley handled the car as well as any Muggle, which led Harry to suspect he had practiced more than he had let on to his wife. The rolling hillside was just beginning to green with the coming spring, and occasionally they spotted a few sheep dotting the landscape.
They arrived in the sleepy village around ten o'clock and headed down the Main Street to the town square. It was similar to Ottery St Catchpole, but on a much smaller scale. The street they drove down was lined with Tudor styled cottages and it appeared that most of the few shops the village possessed were located in the circle that ran around a tall obelisk that sat at its centre. As they drew closer to the structure, the air shimmered around it to reveal a statue of a family; a man and woman sitting on a bench holding a small child between them.
Harry shook his head and closed his eyes as Mr Weasley slowed the car. When he opened them again, the statue remained and he peered out the window to gain a closer look.
"It's enchanted to only appear to witches and wizards," Mr Weasley explained, answering Harry's unspoken question. "Muggles, of course, see the obelisk, as we did before we drew nearer."
"Perhaps we should park and stretch our legs a bit?" Mr Weasley suggested, pulling the car around the statue and parking at a spot by the curb.
They exited the car and walked back to the statue to stand before it. There was a simple plaque at the base that simply said "In Memorium". Harry studied the likenesses and found them to be close to the pictures of his parents and himself that had been taken not long before the tragic affair. Whoever had sculpted the work must have taken care and studied whatever pictures that were provided. He couldn't find a name inscribed anywhere on the statue. The idea that some unknown person had created a statue to honour his parents and himself made him somewhat uncomfortable.
"It's a lovely tribute," Mrs Weasley sniffed, dabbing lightly at the corners of her eyes.
Ginny remained by his side, saying nothing, but offering her silent support, while Mr and Mrs Weasley murmured quietly to each other. It was clear they weren't sure what to say, but Harry didn't mind. He would rather they didn't try, and having stared at the sad sculpture enough, he turned away to study the streets that led away from the town square. A short distance down one he spotted a church spire and became aware of the faint sound of pealing bells. The street sign leading towards the source of the sound was aptly named Church Street.
"Do you…?" Ginny began, trailing off.
"I do," Harry affirmatively answered her unfinished question.
They made their way down the street passing a few shops that were all closed for the day. There wasn't anyone about, and Harry assumed with all the shops being closed there wasn't much reason to be in the centre of town. However, as they approached the church, they caught sight of a few stragglers making their way inside for the service. The bells had stopped ringing and had been replaced by the strains of organ music.
A gated path led down the side of the church, past arched stained glass windows that depicted the martyrdom of one saint or another. The corners of a few small mausoleums could be seen situated behind the church, and taking the path, the quartet made their way to a modest-sized cemetery. Many of the gravestones at the front were crumbling and in various states of neglect, but the ones further back appeared to be newer and in better condition. Heading towards that section, they began to silently search for the one pair of graves that held any interest to them. After a few moments of walking up and down the narrow paths between the tombstones, they found it, a headstone of gleaming white marble that shone in the morning sun. Other than their names and dates of birth and death, there was only one simple inscription: The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. It was a simple tribute to a couple whose lives had been anything but.
Their grave was neat and there were fresh flowers placed on Lily's side. It was clear that the site was well-tended by someone who must visit often. Harry looked around to see if anyone else was about, as the evidence of the flowers suggested someone had been here not long ago. However, they were the only ones present in the cemetery. He sighed, it was yet another piece to add to the puzzle of his disjointed life. He would very much like to know the person who cared enough to leave his mother flowers, and wondered if he would ever have that chance.
A heavy sadness overcame him, as he realized that a small part of him had still been hoping there wouldn't be a grave to mark their untimely demise. He now wished he hadn't been so adamant about coming here. No tears came and he was ashamed to admit that the brief sadness he had been feeling was quickly turning to anger. He was angry that his parents couldn't cross-over from the celestial plane they now lived on to comfort him and he mourned the life he could have had with them.
So much of his life was still a mystery to him, especially since everything his aunt and uncle had ever told him had turned out to be lies. He had no idea who he was, only that he had been thrust into a fantastical world his parents had always been very much a part of. If it hadn't been for Ginny, Harry was certain he would have been lost.
"As I live and breathe," a shaking female voice sounded from behind them, "Harry Potter, is that you?"
They all turned, Mr Weasley pushing Harry and Ginny slightly behind him as they did so, and saw an ancient and stooped woman standing there. She supported her weight on a twisted willow cane and wore thick steel grey woollen robes. Her hair was nearly the same colour as her robes and was pulled up in a loose bun atop her head, with stray strands slipping out to blow across her face in the breeze. Her watery blue eyes stared unblinking at Harry and she took a small step toward him, as her face broke out in a broad smile that revealed several missing teeth.
"I never thought I'd live to see you again!" she exclaimed.
"Have we met?" Harry asked, stepping to stand at Mr Weasley's side.
"Oh my, child," the woman said, "I doubt you would remember, you were only a babe at the time. Your mother and father lived just down the lane from me, and I would share tea with your mum at least once a week."
"Really?" Harry couldn't believe the luck of meeting someone here who actually remembered and knew his parents. "Who are you?"
The old woman smiled, "I apologize for my rudeness. I'm Bathilda Bagshot."
"Bathilda Bagshot," he repeated, knowing he had heard or seen that name before and then it came to him. "You wrote A History of Magic."
"Guilty as charged," Bathilda said.
"And you really knew my parents?" he asked in disbelief.
"I did," she affirmed. "My, you do remind me of your father, except you have your mother's eyes."
Harry said nothing to this, as he had seen enough pictures of his parents to know that what the elderly lady stated was the truth. He was curious as to why, if she knew his parents as well as she said she did, so little of them had been mentioned in A History of Magic. He didn't even know why Voldemort had ever thought to be threatened by a young child or why he had decided Harry was that child. It appeared to him his parents had died senseless deaths, and he was disappointed that seeing their graves had done little give him any real closure.
"Have you seen your house yet?" Bathilda asked, studying Harry intently, and he wondered if she was as experienced in Legilimency as Professor Snape was and had captured a glimpse of his dark thoughts.
"Not yet," Mr Weasley answered before Harry could.
"I'd be happy to show you," Bathilda offered, "but I'm sorry we haven't been properly introduced."
"Yes," Mr Weasley said, "My name's Arthur Weasley, this is my wife Molly, and our daughter, Ginny."
Ginny stepped to Harry's side as her father introduced her and Bathilda's eyes lit up. "Oh, aren't you a pretty girl!" she enthused, causing Ginny's cheeks to turn bright red and duck her head so her hair would fall over her face. "No need to be modest, dear," Bathilda continued before turning to Mrs Weasley, "Lovely to meet you all."
"And you," Mrs Weasley replied.
Bathilda nodded, "Well, if you'll follow me. I'll show you the way to your home."
She turned and slowly made her way back up the path that would lead them out to Church Street. Turning right, she continued past the church and onward down the lane, past a grocer and a few homes. They soon left the town proper, and the houses were spread further apart. Reaching a crossroads, Bathilda pointed to a quaint little cottage.
"My home," she stated. The chimneys were choked with running ivy that was slowly making it's away across the eaves. The garden was filled with every wild flower imaginable, a small dirt path twisted to an oaken door with large lead-paned windows on either side. An immensely fat tabby cat sat in one of the windows, its amber eyes staring intently at them.
"And yours is right down here," she continued, turning left away from her home. The one or two houses they passed were empty, and it was clear no one had lived in them for quite some time if the states of the gardens were any indication. It was a lonely place and it possessed a sense of eeriness that sent a small shiver down Harry's spine. He was uncertain if it was the anticipation of seeing the scene of his parents brutal murder or if there was something else lingering in the air. He glanced over at Ginny and she appeared to share his apprehension, but neither of her parents seemed disturbed.
A few more feet down the lane, Bathilda stopped in front of a neglected fence in advanced stages of disrepair, The overgrown garden had claimed the dirt path that led up to the front door, that hung off its hinges. The windows on either side of the door were broken, and the little that could be glimpsed of the inside showed walls and floors blackened with mould and the residue of long ago cast spells and curses. The roof had collapsed, leaving the upstairs rooms open to the elements and there was a gaping hole on the upper left-hand side of the house, with only a few crumbling walls remaining.
A small gasp escaped Ginny's lips upon seeing the wreckage and she took Harry's hand in her own, gripping it tightly. Even without words it was easy to sense her dismay at how easily things could have gone differently on that awful night nearly eleven years ago. Her mother, also stared at the house and a tear trickled down her cheek. Her husband placed his arm about her shoulder and pulled her close to him.
Bathilda nodded solemnly, "It's not a pretty sight, I'm afraid to say. I'm sorry."
Harry couldn't say what he was feeling upon seeing his first home and the ruin that had been wrought upon it. He had no memory of that fateful night except perhaps in dreams, where he sometimes saw a blinding flash of green light. He didn't remember his parents, and all he had left of them were the pictures in a photo album. In those pictures they had appeared happy and to love him very much. That thought made his heart ache knowing he would never know what it was like to be raised by two loving parents who would do anything for him, and looking at the house, anger burned within him. Anger at the man who thought he could simply kill them all in order to achieve what he wanted. Anger for the life that had been robbed from him.
"Oh my," Bathilda muttered, her eyes averted to the horizon beyond the house. Dark clouds were quickly rolling across the sky, obscuring the bright blue sky. "I don't recall hearing about storms for today."
The trees surrounding the house bowed under a fierce wind that suddenly blew about them. Ginny's long tresses whipped around her face, and her parents pulled her and Harry closer to them as they were buffeted about. Harry stared at the darkness approaching them and felt a pull within him towards the storm. The wind wailed and moaned, sounding both inhuman and human and a shudder ran through him.
"We need to get inside," Mr Weasley shouted above the squall.
"We should retire to my cottage," Bathilda ordered and began heading back down the lane towards the village.
The Weasleys followed, pulling Harry and Ginny along with them. Harry looked back over his shoulder. The clouds were gathering above his parents' ruined cottage and he saw a dark shadow swoop down from the sky towards him. He opened his mouth to attract Mr Weasley's attention when Ginny's shriek of terror rang out.
"Harry!"
A ghostly shadow tore through him, sending pain searing from his scar to radiate out through his body. An angry scream of rage filled his head as Harry felt his body falling, black spots dotting his vision. Mr Weasley caught him before he crumpled to the ground, kneeling down with him.
"Harry," his call echoed in Harry's ears and the last thing he saw before the darkness completely took him was Ginny's frightened face looking down at him.