Nightmares and Daydreams
By Teacherbev
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.
Chapter 7: The Message
Snape had turned so quickly he seemed to be just a black blur, his robes swirling out behind him, his wand already in his hand, a curse upon his lips before he stopped, recognizing the Headmaster's Phoenix before he blasted it into bits.
"Fawkes, you need to stop that! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me, or do you wish to be forced into another burning day?" Snape snarled as the bird seemed to smirk at him. Harry thought to himself, 'Again? Has Snape blasted Fawkes before?' He moved his eyes toward his professor as he watched him take a rolled parchment from the sharp talons. Fawkes trilled a haughty little tune at the man before gliding over and landing on Harry's chest. Harry was thankful that Fawkes was being so careful with those deadly claws. The Phoenix turned his head this way and that, as if he was evaluating the boy lying so still in the oversized bed. With a soft and soothing trill, the swan like bird bent his long neck and rubbed his head against Harry's cheek, pearly thick tears slowly sliding down the red and gold feathers and onto Harry's face as the beautiful bird cried over the damaged child.
Harry felt so warm and comfortable that he stopped fighting to keep his eyes open any more and slipped back into the peaceful blackness, the soothing lullaby being trilled so softly making all his worries and cares melt away with his consciousness.
Snape had read the short note before striding across the large bedroom to the massive oak desk that stood in an alcove in front of an oversized bay window and began pulling open drawers, looking for parchment, quill and ink to answer the Headmaster's note. He found what he needed quickly and sat down in the massive leather chair, thinking how to best word his answer.
He called Dobby to bring the softly trilling bird a handful of green and red grapes to reward him for safely delivering the missive. Fawkes was an omnivore, phoenixes could eat almost everything, but the Headmasters familiar preferred fresh fruit above any other food, particularly grapes and cherries for some reason. He would eat nuts and berries if no fruit was available, as well as grains. And since he was firmly ensconced in Hogwarts, he never had to resort to insects and small vermin as a non-bonded phoenix might have to. He read the note over again rubbing the end of the quill through the rough stubble on his chin as he pondered, trying to discern if there was a hidden message contained within it.
Severus and Harry,
I am hoping that Fawkes has been able to find you as other methods have failed. Things are unsettled here, but we stand ready to assist you.
Please, Severus how is Harry? Have you been able to isolate the poison and counteract it?
Albus
It seemed straight forward and he could recognize none of their prearranged code words, but he was still reluctant to commit more than basic information to parchment no matter how secure the messenger. He chewed on the end of the quill as he mentally composed the note. With Fudge and Umbridge loose in the castle, he would have to be very careful. He thought back to the last time he had been spying and dredged up the proper words to use just in case Albus was unable to keep his message secret.
Albus,
Got message safely, home is filthy, can't see out the windows so I don't know where we are. Feed Fawkes some green grapes for me, I don't have any. Red grapes were badly damaged, but I could salvage some for him. No other fruit here.
SS
Snape rolled the missive up tightly and cast a person specific spell upon it so that only the Headmaster would be able to open it. He walked over and reached down to pet the large bird still trilling softly on Potter's chest. He let few people know, but he was actually quite fond of the Phoenix, and it seemed to be mutual, which was one reason that Albus had been willing to listen to his confession and then his offer to spy for the light side. Someone still in true service to the Dark Lord would never gain the confidence of a Phoenix after all.
After crooning a soft noise at the glorious bird, Snape held the tightly rolled missive out to him. Fawkes gave a final rub to Harry's cheek, rubbing in the last of his tears before turning and nipping gently at the hand being held out toward him. He rubbed a fond caress before grabbing the letter in his talons and launching himself into the air. With a flash of red and gold flames, the bird and the parchment disappeared. Snape snorted, "Bloody show off!" he muttered with an audible touch of fondness before settling down once more into the armchair with his potion's grimoire to continue his vigil until Potter woke up once more.
Draco had never spent a more miserable night, he hurt all over, and he was hungry, cold, wet and scared out of his mind about what would happen next. That, and the imbecile of a minister was still singing about a spider in the next cell, did the man never shut up?
He sat up and scuttled back against the cold stone wall behind him as he heard footsteps echoing down the long corridor toward his cell. His forced his hands underneath him to hide the shaking and clamped his jaw tight to keep himself from screaming in panic when the approaching footsteps stopped right outside his door and the scraping of a key in a rusty lock make a horrible shrieking noise that echoed down the slimy and dim corridors.
The glare of light from the hallway was harsh on Draco's eyes as he squinted painfully, noticing two large and bulky shapes entering his dismal cell. Without a sound, he was roughly grabbed by each arm and pulled to his feet. His legs refused to bear his weight, as the returning circulation shot agony up and down his legs from toes to knees. The two behemoths simply dragged him out of the dank space and then down the long hall. Draco had managed to get his feet working again before they reached the narrow and slippery stone steps or he might have been dragged up them.
He could feel his heart pounding painfully against his sore ribs as his guards drug him closer and closer to a square of light that spilled out onto the filthy and worn carpet from an open door. He blinked rapidly several times, trying futilely to clear his blurry vision before he was shoved roughly and unceremoniously through the door to sprawl in an inelegant heap at the feet of the Dark Lord once more.
"You may leave us-s-s-s." Voldemort hissed at the two burly, black robed men, their white masks flashing in the flickering torchlight as they bowed respectfully before turning and hastily making their way out of the room.
"S-s-s-o boy, you thought to act without permis-s-sion. Your reckless-s-s act has-s-s cos-s-st me greatly. And I shall exact payment for that loss-s-s-s from your very hide, boy." The sibilant hissing coming from the lipless slit on the inhuman face made Draco lose what little self-control he had managed to hang onto so desperately and the filthy and bedraggled Slytherin began to sob, pleading incoherently for mercy from his father's Lord and Master as a large wet puddle spread into the carpet underneath him.
"Crucio!" Voldemort's wand held steady as he laughed at the inhuman screams that filled the night, the other occupants of the Riddle Manor that night giving silent thanks that it was not them under the wand as the sounds of torture and insane laughter seemed to last for hours in the blackness of the long night.
Harry pushed himself toward the lightening area as quickly as he could managed from the black void he was floating in and eagerly anticipated seeing his mother and father once again. He opened his eyes…and then opened his mouth and screamed. 'Wormtail! How had the miserable traitorous rat got a hold of him?' he thought, his mind whirling madly as he tried to think of some way for his toddler body to escape. He screamed louder, his cheeks wet with tears, his face bright red as his baby instincts took over his fifteen year old mind and he hit the startled little rat man with his chubby clenched fists as hard in the chest as he could manage.
He felt the strong hands of his father grabbing him under his arms and closed his mouth in mid-scream, his chest still heaving as his breath caught in short hitches. He turned as quickly as he could and buried his face deeply into his father's robes, barely registering the vibration of the man's chest as his comforting tenor voice spoke soothingly to his young son.
"I've got you Harry; everything's going to be all right now, son." James was repeating this phrase over and over, one arm holding Harry securely while the other patted the still trembling and softly sobbing child.
As the meaning of the words washed into Harry's mind, an overwhelming sense of loss battled with the welcome warm feelings of love and Harry began to sob harder, the pain of losing his parents now more real and devastating than it had ever been before. He could hear his Dad calling to his wife, "Lily, can you come here for a minute, I don't know what's wrong with Harry. He just won't stop crying and he's really upset." The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps heralded Lily's entrance and she immediately rushed to her baby's side, scooping him up expertly and into her embrace. She turned her head just enough to make sure the comfortable rocking chair was standing directly behind her before she sat down, gently beginning to rock the still crying Harry, her worry plain upon her face.
"I'm not sure what's wrong, Hun. Why don't you and Peter go downstairs for a bit, and make sure that Sirius doesn't ruin dinner. I left him grilling the steaks, but you know how raw he likes to eat them." The two men looked at each other before nodding at the now quieting boy in his mum's lap and tip-toeing out of the room.
"Hush little wizard, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a fwooper bird, and if that fwooper bird just dies, Mama's gonna buy you a broom that flies…" the gentle sound of his mother's soft singing eased Harry back into the darkness, his last coherent thoughts about ways a toddler might be able to warn his parents not to trust the filthy little rat faced traitor.
Snape sighed and swished his wand to turn his comfortable armchair into a small bed, Potter had managed to slip back into sleep while he had been sending off the short parchment to Dumbledore and he was oddly reluctant to force the boy to wakefulness without a pressing reason. Besides, he told himself, he needed to sleep some more before beginning the immensely complicated job of brewing precise nerve regeneration potions for the now sleeping brat.
He rubbed his gritty and tired eyes with a potion stained hand, absently noting that he needed to trim his fingernails, he had broken a couple in the last few manic days somehow without even noticing. He was still exhausted, but his mind was churning with too many thoughts for sleep to come easily, and even his formidable Occlumency skills weren't helping tonight. He knew he would have to take time soon and sort out exactly what he knew about the injured teen and what he only suspected….and plot some way to know the answers to all the unanswered questions that were plaguing him and keeping him in such mental turmoil.
He rolled over; trying to get comfortable but finally gave it up after a long forty-five minutes of tossing and grumbling. He checked the boy's vitals once more before settling himself at the large oak desk, pulling parchment; quill and ink close before beginning to list the potions he might need in the next couple of days and then meticulously listing every ingredient and its quantity for them. He would give the list to Tippy to make sure that everything was ready to begin as soon as he could test the boy's nervous system. Finally satisfied with actually doing something, he settled down once more on the conjured cot and managed to go to sleep.
Early Monday morning, shopkeepers and clerks on Diagon Alley were startled by a bizarre spectacle. The Minister for Magic, who had been missing for the last one and a half days, was sitting in a puddle in the middle of the ancient cobblestones, apparently happily making mud pies while singing to himself about the "Grand Old Duke of York" or something similar. He was oblivious to the huge crowd gathered in a large circle around him, everyone shocked silent until the flashing of the camera from Bozo, the Daily Prophet's staff photographer, broke the frozen spectators. Mr. Olivander and Tom, the barkeep from the Leaky Cauldron, each grabbed one of Cornelius' filthy arms and helped the poor man to his feet. Since they were right in front of the wand makers' shop, the two wizards took the bewildered and befuddled man into Olivander's and out of view of the now madly talking and laughing crowd.
Tom left the ancient craftsman to keep watch over the incoherent former Minister while he stuck his head into the floo, calling for Aurors and a Healer from St. Mungo's. As he turned back into the shop, he blinked slowly, his mouth open and gaping as Mr. Olivander helped Minister Fudge into a small cot and covered him gently with a blanket that the old wand maker had in the back room of his shop. Cornelius was sucking his thumb and smiling up at the two wizards with a huge smile, before he closed his eyes, humming softly to himself as he drifted off to sleep.
As the Aurors and the Healer arrived, the morning crowd in Diagon Alley dispersed, each returning to their interrupted business, the chuckling photographer almost skipping as he headed to the Daily Prophet building, mentally thanking his wife for yelling at him for breaking her favorite teacup this morning, for if she hadn't yelled at him, he wouldn't have left fifteen minutes early for work, now would he?
Dumbledore had finally convinced Minerva to go to bed, promising her repeatedly that he would send word to her as soon as he knew any information, no matter how minor it seemed. But she refused to leave until she had extracted a promise from him to sleep too, so it was a very groggy Headmaster who was awakened just after dawn, the Monday morning after Harry and Severus had gone missing after Saturday afternoon's ill-fated Quidditch match. He was somewhat relieved to have an eyewitness to the identity of the elf that had managed to kidnap the two moments before Fudge had them sent to St. Mungo's, but he still wished he had received word directly from Severus that they were still both alive, if not particularly well.
He sighed as he reached up and absentmindedly ran his long, crooked fingers through the thick plumage on Fawke's head, just the way the phoenix liked it. His eyes widened with surprise when his brain finally registered what his fingers were doing and he sat bolt upright in his oversized four poster, dumping the poor bird off of his chest in his haste. A sharp angry trilling sounded from under the heavy duvet he had dumped on the poor bird and Albus hurriedly unburied the madly spitting phoenix, who let his displeasure be known by biting Dumbledore's thumb as the poor man tried to untie the parchment roll that was tied to one sharp claw.
"Ow, ow that's enough Fawkes, I am truly sorry for dumping you like that, but I must read this missive, it's very important. Shush, I will send an elf for a whole bowl of grapes and cherries for you if you just let me have the note." Dumbledore was pleading with the still spitting Fawkes over control of the parchment, but the phoenix caved into the obvious bribe, he just loved the fruit too much to stay angry with his wizard.
Dumbledore scanned the short missive and cussed softly at the brevity of the spidery scrawl. "Well, Severus, you could have given me just a little more information. Minerva is going to scald me when I tell her you are okay, but I don't know where you are, how Harry is doing or how you got to wherever you are…or how we are going to get the two of you back." He sighed deeply and threw the warm covers the rest of the way back, there was no use trying to go back to sleep now, too many people were waiting for this news.
Harry's friends hadn't wanted to leave the common room, and none of the other Gryffindor's had the heart to insist, so the Weasleys', Hermione and Neville had camped out on the squishy old couches around the fireplace for the last day and a half, hoping every time the portrait hole opened that it would be word on their missing friend. Early Monday morning, the portrait hole opened to an almost cheerful McGonagall telling the group to go get cleaned up and changed before she was to escort them to the Headmaster's office. When they pressed her, she admitted that they had received news but that the Headmaster had extracted a promise from her not to tell them anything until they reached the security of the Headmaster's office.
The six teens muttered as they left to go up to their dormitories to clean up and change, knowing they would get no more information out of their tight lipped Head of House than that and the faster they reached Dumbledore, the faster they might be told more information.
Amelia Bones was reading a very disturbing report about the fugitive Sirius Black. How the imbecilic Fudge had managed to squash all of this information was beyond her, but she vowed that heads would roll, and not just in the Ministry! She had found evidence of huge sums of money being deposited into Fudge's Gringotts account only to be dispersed through very shady transactions to several Aurors, Wizengamot members, and even the editor of the Daily Prophet. And that was just what had been uncovered since Saturday. No telling what more corruption would be uncovered with a very thorough investigation. But for now she had the transcripts of multiple meetings between Dumbledore and Fudge as well as reams of recordings of supposedly private meetings between Fudge and his cronies.
Apparently Fudge had been as stupid as she had always suspected. Not only did the idiot forget about the recording spells imbedded into the Minister's desk and the copies of all of his meetings where the transcribing spells had not been temporarily suspended, he had kept a meticulous journal of all of his transaction at Gringotts, including who the donation came from, what it was used for, and who he had paid from it. The man really was too stupid to be allowed out without a keeper!
She looked up sharply at the solid rap on her door and spoke, "Enter." She smiled at Kingsley before the solemn expression on his face registered. She sighed as she put down the parchments she had been reading and squared her shoulders for the bad news she was sure was coming. "Okay, Shack, what's happened now?"
Dumbledore's office should have been crowded, but the huge group now gathered in plushy armchairs seemed to fit just fine. Dumbledore was trying in vain to interest anyone in a lemon drop, as the door opened and Remus Lupin entered with a large and shaggy dog trotting comfortably at his heels. Dumbledore clapped his hands and stood up, saying "It's all right Sirius, everyone here knows about you." A wave of the old man's wand produced three more chairs in a space that couldn't possible have held them and the last three men sat down.
Albus looked around the group, Minerva, Poppy and Filius, the four Weasley children, their mother and father, Hermione and now Remus and Sirius. He pulled a much crumpled parchment out of a deep pocket in his robes and began to read:
Albus,
Got message safely, home is filthy, can't see out the windows so I don't know where we are. Feed Fawkes some green grapes for me, I don't have any. Red grapes were badly damaged, but I could salvage some for him. No other fruit here.
SS
The group looked around in stunned silence, Sirius started to sputter under his breath as Remus looked pensive. "Headmaster, is that some kind of code…perhaps a hidden meaning of some kind?"
Dumbledore slapped his forehead before turning to look at a small bookshelf behind his desk and summoning a small, leather bound journal into his hand. He quickly flipped through the pages. "I apologize, friends, it has been so long I had forgotten. But of course, Severus would not have. Ah, here we go…now let me see…ah, yes." He looked back and forth between the page of the journal and the parchment in his other hand. "Let's see…message safe means they are safe in their location. Can't see means he is under some kind of heavy warding, possibly unplottable since the next phrase means he can't tell us where he is. The grapes are he and whoever is with him. The red grape reference means that Harry, the red is for Gryffindor; is badly damaged, but he is able to help him….that's the part where he could salvage some. The no other fruit here means there are no other people around him. So it is just the two of them wherever they are."
Minerva pursed her lips tightly together before she began to recap what the Headmaster had said. "So Severus is alone with Mr. Potter, who is badly injured, but he is able to help him. He doesn't know where he is but they are under heavy warding and there is no danger. Is that everything?"
"That's what I am getting from his rather cryptic message, yes." Dumbledore was nodding his head in agreement with her assessment.
Remus looked over at a smugly preening Fawkes, "Could Fawkes take someone to them, perhaps Madame Pomfrey?" He asked.
Everyone in the room looked at the red and gold bird that was now looking very regretful, his head hanging in apology. "Ah, I guess not." Remus sat down once more and began rubbing Sirius' shoulders, comforting his old friend.
Hermione started bouncing in her seat in excitement. "But could we send things to them to help in Harry's recovery? Maybe a two way mirror or something likes that. I read about them in the library and though they might be useful…" She broke off as Sirius' head shot up and he looked at Remus. "I still have them both…they're in my bedroom at Grimmald Place. I was going to give his dad's old one to Harry at Christmas." He jumped up, heading for the large fireplace, looking over his shoulder at the Headmaster for permission.
Albus nodded, speaking quickly, "Password to return is 'Firebird' and hurry, Sirius." The group sat, nervous but too keyed up to make small talk for barely ten minutes before the fire flared green once more and Sirius stepped through, two square mirrors clutched tight protectively against his chest. He leaned against the huge oak desk, catching his breath as he held one out to the Headmaster now standing beside him. Albus snatched a cloth sack out of a drawer, scribbled a quick note on a scrap of parchment and stuffed it into the bag with the mirror, holding it out to Fawkes, who grabbed it tightly in his talon before disappearing once more in a flash of brilliant flames, leaving a much more hopeful and relieved group of people behind.
Harry recognized the room as the small study in his parent's house as he became aware of his surroundings once more. He seemed to be slightly older than the last memory; he could stand up without wobbling any more. He looked quickly around; just his Mum and Dad with another pair of people about the same age all sitting around on chairs talking earnestly to each other. He looked around the rest of the room and spotted another child about his own age, asleep in a thick blanket on the floor. He carefully walked over to see the sleeping baby's face and fell over onto his padded bottom as he recognized a much younger Neville Longbottom sleeping peacefully in his Dad's study. He looked back at the two talking to his parents and focused his attention on their conversation.
"But if we go into hiding together, James, he might be able to find both boys. I'm sorry but I think we will be safer if we hide in two places, not one."
"I understand your concern Frank, but we would be able to help each other and there would only be one place for the Order to protect, they wouldn't have to spread themselves out so much." Lily was nodding her head at her husband as he tried to convince the Longbottom's to go into hiding with them.
Alice Longbottom spoke up, her voice clear and strong, but still a lot like Neville's. "I appreciate the offer, we really do, but Frank's mother is adamant about us staying in the Longbottom Manor. She has hired the best warding specialist in the British Isles to come and update the wards. I know that you are concerned about both boys safety, but I agree with Frank. At least this way they won't get both boys at once."
She leaned her head over onto her husband's shoulder as he continued. "I know you are trying to find the 'fidelius' warding, but there is no guarantee that you can find it in time…it's been lost too long and even if you find it, who is really strong enough to actually cast it? My mother has contracted for the warders to come next month; we will be safe until then. Now Alice, why don't you gather up Nev and we'll head for home, you know how Mum gets worried if we're out of her sight any more. Damn, I wish the old coot hadn't insisted my Mum know the prophecy too. Sometimes that woman smothers me; you would think I was still four instead of twenty-four."
The two women stood up and hugged briefly while the men shook hands. Lily scooped up Harry from where he stood beside his friend while Neville's Mum wrapped him up in the thick blanket before picking him up, still sleeping. Another round of good-byes, the women almost tearing up and the Longbottom family left through the floo.
James came over to Lily, dropping his head and shoulders until his forehead rested on top of his wife's head. "Are we doing the right thing, Lils? Maybe we should just head back to Potter Manor and upgrade the wards; it's been unplottable for centuries you know."
"James, we've been through it before, it's too big to hide under a 'fidelius' and too many people have visited it over the years. It didn't keep your parents safe, did it?" She looked pained at her husband's involuntary flinch, his parent's murder still too raw for the man to comprehend.
He laid his head down on Lily's shoulder, his face buried in his son's hair as a shudder made his shoulders shake with emotion. He whispered, almost too soft for anyone to hear, "I just can't bear the thought of losing you too, babe. Promise me, you will take Harry and run, don't stay around to help me if he finds us."
Lily started to shout, "I will not leave…"
James lifted his head, took one hand from where it had been encircling his son and wife and put a finger in front of her mouth, forcing her to listen. "Promise me, Lily. No heroics…you must save Harry." The poor man's voice was cracking with emotion as he pleaded huskily. "I can't fight knowing you are in danger…please…" His voice cracked and he was unable to continue, soft tears beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.
Lily kissed her husband and then gently rubbed the tears away. "I promise, James…I don't like it…but I promise."
The memory faded once more and Harry let his consciousness go into the darkness once more.
AN: Sorry for the long delay but RL has been a real pain lately. Hope to update again soon.
