Changing of the Winds
Disclaimer: This story is all mine, but is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Ch. 10 The Prodigal Returns
A/N The title of this chapter is taken from an incredible story by Lachesis called 'The Return of the Prodigal." If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it! It can be found on the Ink Stained Fingers Archive.
Severus finished his meal and sat back for a moment, gazing over the Great Hall. The noise level was beginning to increase, signaling that most of the little delinquents were cramming the last few bites of lunch into their maws. He looked up as a small white form flew in through the owl window. Potter's owl, still carrying his letter, so we've failed to locate him again, he thought, the disappointment he'd kept at bay for the past few days causing his heart to sink a bit. Of course, he wasn't feeling the absence of the maddening Boy Who Lived, he was just becoming frustrated. He had used every potion and spell that he thought would be even remotely appropriate to find the infuriating little idiot, he and the headmaster had used Fawkes, and had even tried an arcane, maddeningly-involved location ritual that required it being performed at Privet Drive. They'd had to Stupefy the brat's relatives, which Severus had enjoyed immensely, then spent the requisite six hours waiting in the brat's dank, dusty bedroom, which Severus had most definitely not enjoyed at all.
He did find it most interesting that the headmaster had been suitably quiet after viewing the boy's living conditions and meeting those repulsive wastes-of-flesh laughingly dubbed his relatives. Potter's disappearance and its attending revelations seemed to rip off the headmaster's mask of omniscience, leaving Severus with a deepening sense of disquiet as they attempted one fruitless spell after another.
Severus interrupted his musing to watch as the owl swooped to the headmaster's chair and perched on the back of his chair whilst he gave her a few tidbits from his plate. To Severus' eye, she looked as if she had traveled wide and far to discharge her responsibility. Her flight feathers were still fine and glossy, but she moved wearily, with less than her normal innate grace. Though it was only apparent to someone with Severus' keen observational talents, Professor Dumbledore's determinedly cheerful look was belied by the tight lines around his mouth and a decided lack of twinkle in his eyes.
It was no wonder. The press had had a field day with Potter's nonappearance on the Hogwarts Express. The Weasley boy and Granger—after careful coaching from the headmaster—were able to truthfully say that Harry had been in communication with them and that he was safe. Though it was 'leaked' that the Boy Who Lived was delayed because of special training, and that he would be attending school, the headlines varied from "Harry Potter—In Special Psychological Counseling?" to "The Boy Who Lived Training to Become a Killing Machine!" As the days grew shorter and the school term moved into its fourth week, the rumors became more and more frenzied, melodramatic and absurd, and articles reporting special interviews with 'undisclosed sources' had Potter anywhere from the jungles of the Amazon to the frozen tundras of Siberia.
The remaining two-thirds of the Golden trio was also growing more agitated with each passing day, and Weasley, never known for his emotional control, was becoming more volatile, once almost drawing his wand on a group of Slytherin boys as they taunted him about the 'Boy who Skived.' The Weasley girl had become an almost tragic figure, somehow transforming herself into the heroine waiting patiently for the return of her love. Severus snorted at that image—he didn't think the boy was even aware of the little redhead, but never having paid much attention to the vagaries of teenage romantic angst, he had no idea what the Gryffindors were up to when it came to emotional entanglements.
At that moment, Severus stilled as a surge of magical power flowed swiftly through the castle. Looking around, he saw the staff staring at one another, while an uneasy shudder passed over the students. Trying to find the source, he met the headmaster's questioning eyes, but before they could speak, the heavy oak doors to the Great Hall sprang open. Though they could be seen quite clearly from the head table, few of the students noticed two small figures slipping in through the doors, which quietly closed again.
There had been no alert from the castle wards, so the entrance was not immediately seen as a threat by them. Nonetheless, Dumbledore and McGonagall stood, while Severus, wand in hand, waited to see what was about to transpire. Before anyone could move towards the two people who had made it almost halfway towards the front of the hall with barely a ripple from those around them (Disillusionment Charm? Severus wondered), the snowy owl, with the letter still around her leg took off with a vast sweep of wings, gliding smoothly towards the strangers.
"Hedwig!" One of the figures cried, and the owl swooped to land on his outstretched arm. With a shiver, the figure came into focus, revealed to be none other than Harry Potter. There was a hush for several seconds before pandemonium broke out. In the noise and flurry of bodies immediately leaping up from the Gryffindor tables, Dumbledore and McGonagall moved quickly towards the disturbance, while Severus moved more slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the figure that had been pushed back, away from the knot of bodies surrounding Potter.
Severus could see a marked difference between the quiet, pale boy who had left on the Express in June and the tan, comfortable youth that stood before them. Instead of the old, baggy clothes he'd worn when not in his school uniform, Potter was wearing tight-fitting jeans, quite nicely tight-fitted jeans, Severus thought before he caught himself with a sickening lurch in his abdomen. Denying he was thinking about the arse of one of his students, Severus quickly scanned the long hair flowing in waves down to the lad's shoulders, the earring, and the filled-out muscles rippling under the golden skin. While still holding one arm out, carefully balancing his familiar, the Potter whelp was joyfully hugging the Granger girl with his other, eyes closed and a satisfied smile on his face.
"Hermione, I have missed you so much. You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you," he exclaimed in a warm tenor voice. His eyes alighting on Ron, he gently let go of Granger and gave the Weasley boy a half hug. "You, too, mate. How are you doing?"
"Great Harry, now that you're back! I can't wait to hear about—"
"Perhaps Mr. Potter would like to come to my office and tell us all about his training," interrupted Dumbledore smoothly, who had made it over to the group. "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, you are welcome to join us. I am sure that I can convince the teachers of your afternoon classes to allow you a little time to catch up."
Potter looked at Dumbledore calmly, though there was an appraising gleam in his eye. "Ah, certainly, Professor Dumbledore, I would be happy to talk about my time away. But first, I would like to introduce you to someone." His eyes passed over the crowd until they found those of his companion, who stepped lightly over to the group.
Severus noted the woman's attributes quickly. She was short, her head barely coming up to the boy's shoulders, with warm, dark skin, and long curly black hair. Like Potter, she was wearing close-fitting jeans and a leather jacket over a silky shirt. Sensing his gaze, her chocolate brown eyes met Severus, and he stood motionless as he felt her measuring him. He did a momentary check of his Occlumency shields, wondering why he felt so exposed before her.
After the considerable amount of time she had accorded to assessing him, Severus was surprised that she barely glanced at Dumbledore or McGonagall. The boy continued, " Nylrebmik, this is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration Mistress, Minerva McGonagall, and the Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master, Severus Snape. Professors, this is my mother, Elëassa lur-Durondel."
Severus, Dumbledore, and McGonagall, initially shocked speechless because the normally-bumbling boy not only remembered, but managed to announce all of their titles, were staggered by the last part of the boy's statement. In the silence, Severus could actually hear the owl cooing as she nipped gently at her master's ear. Eyes gleaming at apparently rendering the headmaster thunderstruck, Potter continued, "I guess I should say, my adopted mother, hmm?" he crooked his free arm, and the woman gracefully rested her hand on it, "You'd mentioned your office, sir?"
"I've read and heard a great deal about you, Professor Dumbledore."
"Then I am afraid that you have quite the advantage, ah, Miss…" Dumbledore paused delicately.
"Lady Elëassa will do, Headmaster."
They had managed to make it up to the Headmaster's office. As they ascended the moving spiral staircase without a sound, Severus could see the gears whirring in the old man's head as he sorted through the implications of Potter's declaration. Severus knew that Dumbledore would not take lightly anyone staking a claim in the Boy Who Lived, unless they were chosen specifically to guide and control the boy. That was quite clear to the Potions Master, who held no illusions about his employer. This unknown woman, who had the power to ward Potter behind protections unassailable by even Dumbledore's arsenal, who could breach the wards of the Burrow and Hogwarts to deliver the wretch's communications, and more importantly, who apparently had the influence to entice the boy to extend himself in his studies where his previous teachers had failed, and who could counsel the boy to grow into this enticingly compelling young man, was an individual with whom one had best tread carefully.
They had all been seated, Harry had joyfully taken possession of his trunk and belongings, and tea had been served. It had been determined that Potter and his companion had been travelling all morning, and after they had served themselves sandwiches and tea, everyone settled themselves in chairs before the fireplace. Though the inhabitants of the castle had just had lunch, Severus was disgusted to see the longing with which the Weasley boy eyed the cakes. Severus was startled to see both the woman and Potter sniff their drinks and food, look at each other, and then nod before eating. Had they thought they might have been drugged? Interesting, he thought, resolved to continue watching them carefully.
"Perhaps we could begin with Mr. Potter's statement that you are his mother?"
The woman eyed Dumbledore thoughtfully while she sipped her tea. Seemingly coming to a decision, she put the cup down, and leaned back in her chair. "You know, Headmaster, let's just cut to the chase. I have adopted Harry James legally, both in the UK and the US, in the magical and the mundane worlds. If necessary, you may check your own Ministry of Magic, and you will find all of the requisite paperwork properly filed."
"Indeed, Madame?" Dumbledore was taken aback. His eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm surprised that such an important legal procedure could have been undertaken without my knowledge. Please forgive me, but you seem very young yourself. Might I ask how old you are?"
"No, you may not." She stopped, then smiled. "Or rather, you may ask all you like, I have no intentions of satisfying your curiosity. I am old enough for the magic of the adoption rite to have accepted my claim, the non-magical British and American legal systems have approved the adoption, and your own ministry accepts it. That is enough for the legal systems under which you are governed, and that is all you need to know."
"But Mr. Potter's relatives—" McGonagall interjected, appalled at how the woman was addressing the revered old wizard.
"Have relinquished their connection with Harry James," the woman grimaced. Severus, remembering Petunia Dursley almost shivered in sympathy. "They gave their permission for his adoption in what you call the Muggle world, and Harry James and I filed the remaining paperwork this morning."
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore turned to Potter, his eyes slightly disappointed at the turn the conversation was taking. Severus knew that expression, one that would eventually twist its recipient into agreeing with whatever Dumbledore was proposing. "I must say that I am surprised that you would leave the blood protections of your aunt's home without telling anyone. I would hope that you might explain—"
Potter interrupted, his face set and determined. He bit out, "Professor, I'm not sure I can explain so that you would understand. All I can say was that I was cutting myself, I was spiraling downward into a depression from which I couldn't seem to pull myself. Within a few weeks, I wouldn't have cared about anything, the least of which whether I lived or died."
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione sobbed softly. "I thought that's what you meant by your letters. I am so sorry that I didn't write you, that I didn't check to make sure you had someone to talk with about Sirius!"
"Hermione, hush," Potter turned towards his friend, his hand gently rubbing soothingly on her arm. "You didn't know, you couldn't have, since we weren't writing. I told you that I am much better, can't you see that?"
"Nevertheless, Harry, while I am sure that Lady Elëassa," he inclined his head towards the woman, who gazed back blandly, "Had only your best interests at heart, to leave the safety of your relatives' home to go off with a stranger is not the most responsible of behavior." Severus snorted quietly at that.
"See, Professor, that is what I mean about your not being able to understand. Let me see if I can speak more plainly. I… Didn't… Care! I was not quite suicidal—I didn't actively want to die, but I saw no reason to live." There were sharp gasps around the room. Potter looked around at everyone grimly, then continued. "I was cutting so that I could feel anything but the dull, numbing pain that was soaking my days and nights. The closest thing I had to an adult that actually cared for me had just died.
"Yes, I know, professor," here, Potter looked sharply at Severus, "I know that he was far from behaving like an adult. I know that he was not a responsible person who could probably ever take care of me, but he was the closest I had." Severus, remembering the Dursleys, conceded the point with a small nod, and Potter, though surprised, carried on with a glance that showed he recognized that his apology to the Potions Master had been accepted.
"I had just found out that there was a prophecy that I was to either kill Voldemort or be killed by him."
"But Harry," Ron jumped in, "The prophecy was destroyed!"
"Yes, but it had been related to the Headmaster. He replayed it for me the night we returned from the Ministry. He'd known it all of those years when I'd asked why Voldemort targeted me."
"Harry," Hermione asked slowly, horrorstruck, "It says that you have to kill him yourself?"
"Yes, Hermione," Harry said softly, looking at his two friends. "It says that he will kill me, or I will kill him." The three of them gazed at each other quietly.
Squaring his shoulders, Harry continued. "Then, when I arrived back at the Dursleys, I found out that the Headmaster had, in all of his wisdom, told them that Sirius was dead."
McGonall interrupted this time. "Mr. Potter, I would ask that you keep a civil tone whilst you are in conversation here with adults."
"Of course, Professor McGonagall." Potter smiled, a slow dark smile that seemed to drop the temperature in the room several degrees. "The problem was that my family was abusive. They forced me to clean the house, do all of the outdoor chores, and prepare the meals. If any one thing was not done to their liking I was usually punished by being deprived of meals or locked in my room."
"But, many parents—" McGonagall sputtered.
"I cannot speak for other parents, as I only know the Dursleys, but I would often go up to four days without any more food than I could scrounge from the rubbish, I would be locked in my room and only allowed out to use the bathroom once a day when there were no chores for me. I will not even speak of the verbal and physical abuse. Why am I even trying to explain this to you! You never listened before, why would I think you would listen now? I don't even know how I got so sidetracked!"
The boy stopped and took a deep breath, obviously gathering his thoughts. "Right. OK, I was just trying to explain my depression. The only thing I could hold over the Dursleys was my insane, criminal godfather who would come down on them hard if they mistreated me. Then the headmaster took that away. The first few days of the holidays were hell." He paused. "Then I just stopped caring."
In the silence that fell, broken only by the sniffles of the Granger girl, his words dropped like bits of ice. "Everyone knew. The Weasleys came to rescue me the summer after my first year, and they saw the bars on the windows. Madame Pomfrey gave me nutritional potions every year for the first month back at school. I had to send Hedwig away so that they wouldn't starve her to death. I realized that everyone knew but no one cared. So," his voice dropped until it was almost inaudible, "I stopped caring, too."
He cleared his throat, then looked up, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but determined to make himself understood. "Then, someone came and told me that they wanted to help. They knew I was hurting and that they could teach me how to make it stop. I know that you think I was gullible, going off with the first person who was nice to me, but you're wrong…. It wasn't that I was gullible, in fact, I was quite suspicious, I thought they might have been Death Eaters luring me away from the safety of the protections, and I… Didn't… Care.
"I was prepared to give up, to just let someone do what they wanted with me, but instead, I found a reason to care. I found people who made me a priority, who took care of me, and even more important, helped me to learn how to take care of myself. They liked me enough to help me, and they loved me enough to make me a part of their family. And while they could keep me safe back home, they knew that I missed my friends and so my family was happy to ensure that I would be safe back in the wizarding world so that I could come back."
"And that is where I come in, Headmaster." Elëassa chimed in silkily. "I am not here to re-hash the past. Let it suffice to say that the conditions of my son's childhood with those horrid people, the fact that he was left with them with no oversight, and the fact that he has been exposed to danger every year in which he has attended this school which is supposed to be so safe, has convinced me that whatever your purpose is here, ensuring the safety of Harry James was not a part of it." She paused, then continued, smiling thinly, "Or at least, it would seem that fitting him to be a part of your battle with this dark lord was more important."
"How dare you!" McGonagall trembled indignantly at the implied insult towards her employer.
"I dare because Harry James is my child, and nothing and no one is more important to me than he is!" The dark woman retorted. Severus wasn't sure, but it seemed the air in the room was swirling. No, looking around, he was sure that several pieces of parchment were stirring on the headmaster's desk. The air around the woman seemed to glow with pale streaks of gold, pink, and silver.
"You have many students here, plus you have other responsibilities, I recognize that. Harry James is just one other student. You cannot be expected to make him your priority over the rest of the students here, in fact, your judgment would be suspect if you did. As his mother, my only goal is his continued emotional, physical, and mental growth and well-being. That, and only that is my priority, and I am here to make certain that such things as unruly goblets and ravenous basilisks are no longer a part of my son's education here. The only way our family was convinced that it would be safe for him to return was if I were to live nearby. I will reside for the remainder of the school year in the nearby forest. Harry James has told be a great deal about it, and I think it would be perfect for my purposes."
"The Forbidden Forest! That's impossible!" McGonagall retorted, aghast. "There are all sorts of dangers there!"
There was an insouciant smile on Harry's face as he replied, "Don't worry, I've told her all about the dangers, and she'll be alright. She has a special affinity with animals, particularly magical beasts." He and his mother exchanged fond smiles, but something tickled the back of Severus' mind as he put together a few clues: her power, her ability to both transcend wards and create protections unassailable by wizarding methods, the way the air seemed transformed angrily around her, and her professed affinity with animals. With a wash of warmth over his body, the clues clicked into place.
"You're an elemental!" Apparently, he and Minerva had come to the same conclusion, as they blurted at the same time. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry smiled and said, "Well done, professors! I told you, Mom, they are quite brilliant!"
Brilliant? Harry Potter thought that he, Severus Snape, was brilliant? That thought almost drove his initial revelation from his head, but it returned. Harry Potter had been adopted by an elemental.
Elementals had returned to the wizarding world. Harry Potter had brought them there. This was going to take some getting used to.
"An elemental… t-t-they really exist?" The Weasley boy stammered. Severus snorted at the boy's gormless expression. Next to him, Granger turned her head from one person to another, trying to glean information from their expressions. Finally, obviously frustrated that everyone else in the room seemed to know something she didn't, she burst out, "What is an elemental?"
"My lady," Minerva began, kneeling quickly upon the floor. Before Severus could join her, however, Elëassa raised a hand.
"No, Professor McGonagall, since I will be here for awhile, this kneeling could become quite tedious—"
"No, you don't understand!" Minerva bit out. "I have wronged you, and I must ask your forgiveness." She bowed her head, shaking slightly.
"I don't understand! What is an elemental? Why is the professor kneeling?" Granger whispered angrily to Weasley, who brushed her off, his own eyes widened at the sight of his professor on the floor. Severus sneaked a quick glance at Dumbledore, who appeared mesmerized by the sight as well.
The elemental gently lifted an eyebrow, then asked meaningfully, her voice soft. "I barely know you, professor, how could you have possibly wronged me?"
In the stunned silence that followed, this time broken only by Granger's muttering, Minerva looked up at the other woman, then Dumbledore, then Potter. Severus could see in her eyes the exact moment when understanding dawned. Turning slightly on the floor, she bowed again, this time to Potter. Everyone in the room—except for the beautiful woman standing and the elderly witch on the floor—gasped as she bowed so low to Potter that she was almost prostrate.
"Professor!" Potter exclaimed, scandalized. He was stopped by a subtle gesture from his mother, but Severus could see his hands clenching and unclenching with shock.
"Harry Potter, I beg your forgiveness. I have offended both you and my sense of honor. I allowed you to be left with people whom I knew would treat you badly. I did not check on you with that knowledge in mind. I did not inquire after your well-being when you returned to school. I did not do what is required of me as your Head of House, as a teacher of children, as a friend of your parents, and as decent human being. I offer to you my sincerest of apologies, my humble assurance that my behavior will be different in the future…" she concluded with a soft sob, "and my magic in recompense."
Severus was staggered. Minerva had confessed on her magic? If Potter wanted, he could strip it from her, leaving her even less than a squib! He turned to watch the boy, shaken at the comprehension displayed on Potter's face. Not only was he aware of the ritual of absolution, he seemed to recognize the sweeping nature of his professor's apology.
Severus remembered all of the wrongs he'd done the boy. He knew how much he had relished each cutting remark, each humiliation he'd visited upon Potter during potions classes, Occlumency lessons, and every interaction between the little wretch and himself. Part of it was to maintain his position with the children of Death Eaters, but part was his own resentment of his treatment at the hands of his Gryffindor bullies. He knew that the Potter spawn could do little to him, so the favored victim of the Marauders vented his ire with impunity. Now he knew that the teen was the adopted child of an elemental, and that the longer he allowed their enmity to continue, the less and less his magic would support him. Severus knew that Minerva's confession demonstrated her own grasp of that concept, and he knew that he should do the same. If she had wronged the boy, how much more had he trespassed the rules of good conduct with the son of James Potter?
Potter's quiet voice cut into Severus' deliberations. "Professor, I accept your apology. I accept your assurance, and I accept your magic."
Almost beside herself with indignation, Granger leaped up and interjected, "Harry, how can you say that? How can you do that to Professor McGonagall?" Weasley pulled her back into her seat, whispering furiously, just as Severus snarled at the hapless girl. "Do not interfere with things you do not understand, Miss Granger!"
Harry waited until it was quiet in the room again. "I give you your magic back and in return, ask you to spend several hours reviewing some memories of mine that I will leave in a Pensieve."
Minerva winced, and Severus was impressed. The brat could not just forgive her, as the magic of the rite she'd invoked wouldn't allow it; there would have to be some sort of reparation. The type that Potter had requested seemingly required his head of house to view the times she'd ill-treated him, this time with the background that would give her the proper perspective. It was a highly appropriate, yet not too painful, punishment, and it would satisfy the magic of the rite.
Severus was heartened. Perhaps in time, he could consider doing the same. He caught himself, appalled. He couldn't believe that he had actually been considering approaching a Potter like some kind of supplicant begging pardon! Loss of magic or not, he had more important things to concern himself with, one of the most important being how he was going to handle informing the Dark Lord of the return of the Boy Who Lived.
Almost as if mentally connected, Severus found his inner discourse interrupted by Potter's obviously carefully chosen words as he helped his professor back to her feet. "Hermione, I'll explain all of this to you in a bit." He looked meaningfully at Severus and the headmaster, then sat down between a fuming Granger and a rather stupefied Weasley. "Right now, perhaps we should talk about how we are going to handle the information that I'm back?"
Dumbledore, clearing his throat after a somewhat uncharacteristic silence, reasserted himself, with a quick, "Yes, that would be an excellent idea."
Minerva seated herself without a sound in a chair by a window, while the three teens began to occupy themselves talking quietly in a corner. Severus, Dumbledore, and Potter's adopted mother gazed at each other momentarily in the stillness before gathering around the headmaster's desk to discuss the best way the spy could alert his master to the return of his prophesied rival. As they talked, surprisingly agreeing on many terms, Severus wondered if the headmaster was thinking of his own role in the painful past of Harry Potter.
TBC