Hermione and Ron sat with Tonks at the breakfast table, smiling and cheery and laughing at things that weren't even that funny, when Harry walked in. He was with someone, and it took all of ten seconds for the others to realize that it was Sirius Black.
Hermione's fork clattered to her plate. Ron's mouth dropped open, and Tonks' spoonful of porridge was frozen in mid-flight.
"And good morning to you three! How did you sleep?" His smile seemed to light up the room, and his eyes were twinkling as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
"W- what happened to you?" Ron asked, staring at him in shock.
Sirius seemed to be gliding with is movements, and his shoulders were no longer hunched. They seemed broader, and his face bore a perfect goatee and his hair was shiny and sleek, hanging easily to his shoulders.
Harry sat down next to Sirius. "Evie."
Tonks grinned. "Does a body good, obviously."
Sirius smiled at her. "I honestly thought she'd hexed me, or poisoned me, but I don't know when I've ever felt as good as I do now." He shook his head. "Ten years gone, just like that." He snapped his fingers.
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Wow. She must be amazing."
Hermione rolled her eyes to him. "She gave him a potion, Ronald."
Ron's face took on a new understanding. "Oh."
Sirius seemed to find this hilarious, and his bark-like laugh filled the room. "Actually, now that you mention it.."
"Sirius," Harry interjected, shaking his head, "no."
Sirius shrugged, and bit off a slab of ham and was chewing away heartily when Remus joined them, looking a bit peaked. He sat, seeming to be rather troubled, and Hermione frowned.
"Are you alright, Professor Lupin?"
He shot the girl a smile. "I'm not your professor, Hermione. And yes, I'm alright. I just have to have a word with…" he looked across the table at his best friend, and his smile dropped, "…Sirius."
Sirius smiled at him, grinning like a snake, and gave him a wink. He had leaned back and had his arms outstretched. "Nice, eh?"
Lupin guffawed. "I… what happened? You look…"
"Mature? Handsome? Pre-Dementor-ish?" He rolled the r's dramatically, then picked up his goblet. "Yes, I know. It seems our hostess possesses quite the talent for mixed beverages."
Lupin could do nothing but stare. "That's amazing. You look... well, like you father."
Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Well, you're not the young pup you once were, either, Moony."
Harry giggled, and took a swig of his goblet. Sirius seemed to have dropped the previous exterior of fear and brokenness and now radiated the sly, wisecracking demeanor that Harry had heard so much about.
Lupin didn't seem as thrilled about it as Harry did. "Evie. She gave you something to… do this?"
Sirius nodded. "Last night. She told me I'd feel like a new man." He laughed. "And damned if I don't!"
Tonks and Ron were now smiling, but Hermione was looking at Lupin hard. When he met her eyes, he knew that she realized that this could create problems in the very near future.
Cyrus was in the doorway, smiling as always, and came in to clap a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Feeling better, Harry?"
Harry nodded. "Much." He watched Cyrus circle the table and sit down next to Lupin, then shifted.
"What happened to me?"
Silence fell around the table, and Lupin looked up from his plate. "What do you mean?"
"Last night. Something happened, I know it did. I can't remember exactly, and I know that she's charmed this place so I wouldn't care, so I want to know what happened."
Sirius met Lupin's eyes nonchalantly, and then looked at the boy. Harry glared at him.
"Don't lie to me Sirius," he said, "you'd never lie to me."
Sirius looked uncomfortable, and even with his newfound carefree spirit he was feeling a little nervous. He swallowed. "You were upset," he said softly, "after you saw the Pensieve, and Evie was trying to calm you down…"
Harry seemed to go white, and tried to speak, but found with frustration that he couldn't. Sirius was explaining, and he could see his lips moving, but no sound came out, flooded away by the memory he was suddenly reliving, about Evie and Dumbledore talking so nonchalantly about Dumbledore's death, his coming death, and Evie telling him exactly how to get Snape to do it…
And Snape, he was here, in the same place…
Lupin's arm was suddenly on his shoulder, and Harry realized he was sagging to the floor. A slicing pain was shooting through his temples, and his heart was thudding as if wrapped in pillows, unable to race wildly.
Cyrus was over him, taking a bottle from his pocket. "I'll never understand some people," he was saying, "they feel the effects of the charm, and they truly want to succumb to it, but then they fight it, and all that hatred tries to work its way out, but it gets trapped inside, and it does this." He nodded toward Harry in irritation, and put the bottle to his lips. "Drink it," he commanded, and poured some into the boy's mouth.
Harry felt the warm brew trickling towards the back of his throat, and immediately felt his heart slow, felt a peace starting in his chest and moving into his neck and arms, and then remembered that he didn't want to forget, he didn't want to be happy, and under no circumstances wanted to believe the lies that were being pumped into him by these people and this place.
He spit, and the concoction covered Cyrus and Lupin, and Harry was on his feet and out the door in a second. He heard Sirius calling his name, heard footsteps coming behind it, and bolted to the stairs.
He practically jumped down the first flight, turning to the next, and barely missing two house-elves that were carrying up laundry. They said good morning to him, but he ignored them, fearing that if he did stop for anything the calm would take him over, make him want to forget his pain, and he did not want to do that.
It was raw, fresh, and violent, and he found with a hint of fear that he wanted to act on it.
He was on the second floor, and knew then and there that this was the reason he'd been ordered to stay upstairs, these were the paths that were not supposed to be crossed, and he sped down the hallway, taking only a second to glance into each room.
There was no sign of his target, and he spun and ran for the other wing, his feet slapping the floor as he ran. He saw Miguel and Porter coming up from the first floor, and Cyrus and Lupin from the third, and knew he had to make this quick.
He rushed down the hall, slinging an accent table down behind him and hoped it would slow them down. His heart was pounding in his ears so loudly that nothing else made a sound, not even his escalated breathing. He rushed between rooms, then noticed that one on the end was closed.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and burst in, heart and mind ready to do what he ached.
It was empty.
He cursed, and turned to go, when a figure launched from behind the door and caught him by the throat, crashing to the floor with him. Harry felt his glasses fly off somewhere, and squinted up to see who his attacker was.
All he could make out was a mop of white-blonde hair, and heard a voice that made his anger explode.
"You stupid bastard!" Malfoy yelled. "Thought you'd ambush me, did you?"
Harry let out a roar of rage and rolled Malfoy to the side, pinning him. Soon after a crushing pain entered his skull and he realized that Malfoy had hit him with something blunt and heavy, and his vision blurred even more, but his rage intensified.
"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!" Harry was reaching for anything, anything he could find, to strike back with, and his hand locked around something hard, and he tried to pick it up, then looked over to see that it was a shoe, and as his eyes rose he saw that it contained the foot of one Severus Snape.
Hatred rushed through him in an icy wave, and he suddenly lunged at the man's legs, but Snape took him by the collar and hauled him up.
He felt his punches connecting, heard a grunt as his fist withdrew blood from Snape's mouth, but the man continued to hold him, just hard enough to restrain him, and did not seem to wish to fight back.
Hands took his shoulders and pulled him away from Snape, who just stood there, his face empty, blood trickling from his lips. He stared at Harry with no emotion, and looked away only long enough to help Draco to his feet.
Lupin was handing Harry his glasses, and he smacked his hand away. "Get away from me! LET ME GO!"
Miguel and Porter were holding him, he was sure of it, because no one else could have kept him back. Sirius, Tonks, Ron, and Hermione stood in the doorway, and Evie had entered, looking between the two and then taking Snape's face and investigating his lip.
"You. You liar! You've been helping him this whole time! You knew! You could have saved Dumbledore! YOU LIAR!"
She was ignoring him, muttering an incantation that mended a gash on Draco's mouth. She then took Snape's face gently, dabbing at the blood on his chin with a small towel from the dresser.
"LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME YOU BITCH! IT'LL BE YOU NEXT! AFTER I'M FINISHED WITH HIM, I'LL GET YOU NEXT! YOU FILTHY, STUPID BITCH!"
Evie still paid no heed to Harry's words, simply put the towel down and smoothed back her hair, giving a glance to Cyrus that conveyed the message to take Draco out of the room. He obeyed, and Harry exploded again.
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! HE KILLED ALBUS DUMBLEDORE! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? HE'S A MURDERER! HE'S NOTHING BUT A COWARD AND A MURDERER!"
Suddenly, Evie's hand lashed out and she slapped him across the face with a stinging smack.
Silence was so thick on the room it seemed hard to breathe, and Evie lowered herself to Harry's level, meeting him with her eyes. They were large and cold, and no delicacy mirrored in them like he'd grown accustomed to.
"Don't you ever," she said in a low voice that seemed to penetrate his bones, "ever call him that again."
Harry was stunned for a moment, then found a new rage that made him want to claw at her, flail at her until his body gave out, and he struggled against the guards even harder than before.
"YOU TRY TO PROTECT HIM! YOU TRY! I'LL MAKE SURE YOU GO STRAIGHT TO HELL WITH HIM! I WILL NOT REST UNTIL THAT TRAITOR IS DEAD!"
Again, her hand contacted with his face, this time knocking him- and the two men holding him- to the right a few steps.
Sirius had started forward, but to his surprise, Lupin's hand fell on his chest, holding him back. Sirius's eyes shot to him, and Lupin gave him a look that clearly told him to stay out of it.
Evie grabbed his shoulders, and righted him. Her hand took his face, not at all like she had done Snape's, but hard and rough, making his lips scrunch together in a crooked pucker.
"Quiet, Harry."
He tried to struggle one last time, but her hand tightened on his lips and the shock of pain stilled him. She spoke slowly, her voice an eerie hiss and her eyebrows raised.
"I am tired of this. I am tired. I am tired of your foolishness, and your utter disregard for our rules. I am tired of your stubbornness. I am tired of you setting your own reality in your head and your determination to interpret the world as only you see it. I know you are hurting. I know you are frightened. I know that you feel that you are all alone in your despair. But I have only tried to help you, and it has been at the cost of my patience." She swallowed, and her tone became softer. "I knew your mother. I knew her well. And if she were to see you as you are now, ready to kill a man that you know to be innocent-" his eyes flinched at this, and she held him even tighter, "-and you do, you saw with your own eyes, Harry, you know he did nothing but what he was asked to do. But threatening the life of one who has saved yours on countless occasions, screaming accusations that you know are false," she shook her head, "your mother would turn from you in shame. You are no better right now than the ones you wish to destroy."
Harry had begun to tremble, and he looked at her with eyes that seemed so much like his mother's that Evie felt her heart fall. She released his face, her fingers leaving white imprints on his flushed skin. She took a deep breath. "Let him go."
Miguel and Porter backed off slowly, and Harry didn't move. His eyes had fixed on the floor, and his breath was making his shoulders rise and fall visibly. Evie watched him in silence, then stepped to him and took him in her arms, speaking into his hair.
"I know," she whispered. "I know what you feel. I know what you've been through. But please, please do not fight us. No matter what you believe, we are on your side." She sucked in a sharp breath. "We have been all along."
Harry looked to the doorway, and saw Tonks and Lupin, Ron and Hermione, and Sirius all looking on, their faces tight and eyes filled with mixed emotions.
And there, still behind Evie, was Snape, who was staring at him as he had been at first, his eyes still and empty. It seemed an eternity they locked gazes, and Harry suddenly felt vulnerable and looked away quickly. Evie held him out.
"He only wants to help you, Harry." She forced a tight smile. "But he can't if you won't let him."
Harry seemed to shrink, his shoulders falling, and forced himself to meet her eyes. "I have to go outside. I… I want to be alone."
She swallowed, then nodded. "Very well. Porter will accompany you. At a distance, of course."
He nodded, and turned to the door. Lupin handed him his glasses again, and this time he took them, giving him an apologetic look. But the werewolf's smile told him there was nothing to be sorry about, and he stepped aside to let him leave. Porter joined him as he walked down the hall, falling into step a few strides behind him.
Evie let out a breath, and turned to Severus.
"Excuse us," she said to the group in at the door. They moved away, and she waited until they were gone before stepping towards her cousin.
"Are you alright?"
He gave a nod.
She smiled at him weakly, and then took his shoulders. "Thank you."
He let his lips tighten into a wan imitation of a grin, and she pulled him close.
"He still blames me. After all he has seen. I told you that it would make no difference."
Evie stared at the floor, her head against his shoulder. "I know. But it's still fresh for him. Time is all we can give him now."
Severus swallowed. "And Black?"
She pulled back to look at him. "Has he shown any sign of hostilities toward you?"
"He just saw me for the first time."
She raised her eyebrows. "And how many times has he seen you for more than a second and not taken advantage of the opportunity?"
He raised an eyebrow back at her, and she smiled. "Nothing will happen to you here, Severus," she said. "I won't let it."
Harry had been in the garden for hours, it seemed, and the quiet had melted away some of the rage, but his face still stung from Evie's hand.
When she had turned on him, when she had stared him down, his blood had chilled. There had been so much of Severus Snape in her at that moment that her previous kindness had melted away, replaced by an anger that crackled with energy.
He had only felt rage like that once before, not that long ago, the night that Albus Dumbledore had died.
He'd only seen rage like that in one Severus Snape.
Maybe it had been her anger, her frustration bringing it to the surface, but he knew that she was more than just some special Healer that knew things the Ministry didn't want anyone to know.
"Hi."
He turned, and Ron and Hermione were behind him, tight smiles on their faces, looking afraid to approach. He lifted his chin, and looked back to the flowers.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione dared to slide onto the brass bench beside him.
"Should I be? He's here, right here under my nose, and I can't do a damn thing about it."
Hermione stole a glance at Ron, and he joined Harry's other side. "Well… you know that he… Harry, you saw what happened…"
"Shut it, Ron. If you're going to take his side, maybe you should go back inside and have him to tea."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "Harry, how thick are you? He didn't do it on purpose, no matter what you think. You saw in the Pensieve. You heard what Dumbledore said."
Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder as he jerked his head at Ron's statement. "Harry, Dumbledore said that Snape had told him he'd die before raising his hand to him."
"Well, then, he should have!" He rose from the bench, storming in a circle around it. "He should have never killed him! Not for anything! Not even if he begged him. No matter what he promised!"
"Then you would break a promise?"
Harry whirled. Evie stood against a tree, her arms folded. She was staring at him hard, and waited for his answer with an expectant look.
"I don't want to talk to you," Harry growled.
"Look at me." She walked across to them, her black dress swaying in the light breeze.
Harry turned. "No."
She had grabbed him, whirled him around, and was staring into his eyes, hard and cold. And to his dismay, he saw memories starting to fly in front of his mind.
The cave. Swimming in the ice cold water. The lake. The basin. Dumbledore drinking, looking at Harry and begging him to stop, he didn't want any more, please, don't, and Harry relived his voice saying, it's okay, almost done, just a little more…
He closed his eyes, and she lifted her chin, pushing him away. She crossed her arms, and circled him like a shark, watching him carefully.
"You hated yourself."
He opened his eyes, cutting them to her.
"You hated yourself for doing that to him. You were torturing him with every sip of that potion. And yet you did it anyway." She raised her eyebrows. "Why?"
Harry suddenly felt so much hatred for the woman in front of him that it filled his very being. But in the back of his mind, in the place where he knew he was wrong, he realized what she was getting at.
She stopped in front of him. "Why did you do it, Harry?"
He grimaced. "Because I promised him," he mumbled.
"Say it louder. I can't hear you."
"Because I promised him," he said, and looked at her squarely.
She nodded. "Right. And you knew that it could have killed him? You knew that whatever it was it could have taken his life?" He nodded. "And yet you forced it on him. Why, Harry? Tell me again why you tortured Albus Dumbledore."
He clamped his eyes shut. "HE MADE ME PROMISE!"
When he opened his eyes, she was so close to him that their noses were almost touching.
"Exactly," she whispered. "And tell me, Harry, do you know what it was that you forced on Albus Dumbledore? Do you know what potion shattered him?"
Harry shook his head. Evie smiled, and Harry cringed as he realized it was much like Snape's chiding grin.
"Of course you don't. They don't teach that kind of thing at Hogwarts. It was the Dark Lord's specialty- a poison, if you will. Ceretortulem, it's called. Not only does it cause excruciating physical pain, but also brings on frightening hallucinations. You see, Harry, Ceretortulem can only be made with the memories of those that the maker himself has tortured- not only is the physical pain absorbed, but also the mental anguish of the memory of being tormented, or perhaps seeing your family tortured and killed- it's not a pick-me-up, believe you me. So now, Harry, do you realize what you did to him? Do you realize what he went through at your hand?"
Harry was shaking. She had to be right, she had to be. It all fit- Dumbledore's cries of pain, his statements of 'it's my fault, kill me, not them', it all made sense… he'd longed for death, had even asked Harry to kill him, and now… it all made sense.
He met Evie's eyes, and saw that they housed no pity for him, no sorrow, just cold, hard scrutiny. He swallowed. Ron and Hermione were facing the other direction, still on the bench and not willing to get into the middle of what was unfolding.
Evie looked unsure of what to say next, and dropped her arms. "Just so you understand that Albus did know what was happening, Harry. And he knew that you would serve him, maybe when no one else would. It took courage to do what you did. I dare say I couldn't have done it myself." She turned to walk away, and then stopped. She looked back at him.
"And one more thing. Ceretortulem is incurable. There's nothing you can do to stop its effects. It's a long, slow painful death, sometimes takes weeks."
He looked at her, and felt a surge in his chest as he realized what she was saying.
"If Severus hadn't killed Albus Dumbledore, Harry," she said, "then you would have."
