The Unbreakable Vow 35
by
Ash Darklighter
It all belongs to JK Rowling and I thank her for her inspiration – There are no galleons to be made from me or by me. This little story is my first Harry Potter fic. It is AU and of course comments are welcome. I am also grateful for all the people who have read and reviewed this story. I am quite stunned by all the positive comments. I know I do not update as swiftly as everyone would like but life and work and everything that goes with it just slows me down. Thanks again for your patience.
"...but do not try to control me." Harry snapped his seatbelt into place, his breathing and his heartbeat returning to something approaching normal. "Deliver it to the headmaster, Prongs," he said softly, then watched the silvery stag disappear and slipped his wand back into his sleeve.
The car picked up speed as it left the town, heading south towards the more isolated areas of the region. The atmosphere inside the vehicle was decidedly frosty. Harry, his communication sent, risked a glance at his wife's set face as the speedometer increased above the thirty miles per hour acceptable in a built up area.
"Ginny..."
"Don't say anything," she snapped, her gloved hands tightening on the steering wheel. "I'm driving, I'm angry at you and I'd like to stay angry at you for a bit longer and don't you dare say anything about my hormones being out of kilter."
Harry closed his mouth. He had been going to say something about hormones. "Ginny..."
"You did something incredibly stupid by continuing to go into work this week and I was even more addle-brained by letting you go. I'm almost as angry at myself as I am at you. Note that I said 'almost'." She threw an anxious look in the rear-view mirror but was relieved that the road behind them was dark. "Harry, what were you...what were we thinking?"
"Afraid they're following us on brooms?" he said mockingly and immediately regretted saying it.
"They could well be. Oh, Harry," Ginny wailed. "You sent a Patronus..."
"A message only..."
"I only hope they didn't get a tracking spell on you."
"They didn't," he said, his voice apologetic, as he noted the worry in her voice. He hadn't meant to snap. "I would have felt it."
"Felt what! Don't go all Star Wars on me. You're no Luke Starkiller," Ginny muttered and forced herself to relax. He was probably right – the escape by car had not likely been anticipated. Dumbledore, for all his brilliance was a wizard, not a muggle.
"Skywalker, Gin," he mumbled for the umpteenth time. "It's Luke Skywalker." She could never remember the name of the hero of his favourite film. His magic was strengthening every day and he somehow knew if there was magic in the air - he could feel it. But this didn't excuse the risks he was putting them all through and he knew he'd been wrong.
"You knew that Remus told Dumbledore about that meeting you had in Aberdeen. He may be protecting you for the moment but as a werewolf he owes Dumbledore too much. The Order may be slow to react at times but the members aren't stupid. You know Moody has caught more dark wizards than any other auror and he would have focused his attention on you as soon as you left him a clue. I shouldn't have allowed you to leave the house."
"You couldn't have stopped me," Harry retorted mildly.
"Oh couldn't I?" bit out Ginny. "I need only say two words. Sofa instead of bed."
"That's four words," he couldn't help but say and winced as his wife angrily changed gears. The car roared unhappily around a sharp bend "I'm sorry, Gin. I was going to say that you're the most wonderful, amazing..."
Ginny's lips twitched against her will and Harry risked a smile. "I'm mad at you," she said but the words lacked heat. She couldn't remain mad at him for any length of time.
Harry's smile broadened a little with relief. "I know and you have good reason to be but they were short-staffed and..."
"And nothing, Harry," Ginny's voice rose again, the anxiety easy to hear. "This is our lives and freedom we're talking about and you risked us... You risked Jamie and the new baby."
"Oh!" The smile disappeared and his face flamed in the dark. She was right and they both knew it. "I'm sorry," he offered again, his voice husky. "I just wanted to help and I didn't think."
Ginny sighed. "I know. Thinking things through has never been your strongest point. You've been very good lately but you're you and bound to lapse. That reckless Gryffindor streak can't be kept down for long."
"Hey!" he protested. "You're a Gryffindor, too."
"Harry, Harry, Harry," crooned Ginny softly. "I may be a Gryffindor but I lack your hero complex. I also have the Weasley pragmatism to temper the rash Gryffindor within."
Harry stifled a snort of laughter. "Yes, dear," he murmured obediently.
Ginny rolled her eyes. She really couldn't stay angry at him for long. All he had to do was give her that look from his green eyes and she forgave him. She loved him.
For the next few miles there was silence as they both took stock of their situation. They'd had a respite from danger, a wonderful, private fulfilling time of peace and happiness but they knew they'd been living in their own little non-magical bubble and it was going to burst. The past two months had shown them that the world they loved, the one that they had unwillingly left, still needed them.
And they still needed to live within it.
"In a way I'm still glad I went today," Harry said eventually, breaking the quiet. "Yes, I know we were nearly caught but Hermione..."
"You saw Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "And?"
"Yes, I saw her. Spoke to her, in fact." Harry grinned. "We made peace – of sorts. She was there to persuade me to return with the Order and as I was working in a bank, she decided to cash a cheque. I suspect she changed her mind about forcing me to go back with them. She wasn't there when I came out of the bank at day's end. I saw Moody, Albus and I think it was Hestia. She could have been hiding somewhere out of sight but I think she left as I couldn't sense any others nearby. I get this prickling on the back of my neck."
Ginny exhaled a noisy breath. "Well, it could be your Jedi or Spiderman sense. Either that or you have fleas."
"Thanks." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I think, or at least I hope, she decided to support me this time. She asked for you."
"She did?"
"I was wrong, Gin. I should have been in touch with Hermione and Ron before now. But I was so angry with them – completely out of proportion to anything that they had done. My anger went beyond any blame that could be put on them. I was angry at everything and everybody. My magic was gone, I was losing you and we couldn't trust anyone to do the right thing for us. We've been hiding from both sides and I guess that now has to stop. It's so unimportant in the grand scheme of things now."
"Or Dumbledore's 'greater good'," muttered Ginny.
"Or that." The words emerged through suddenly gritted teeth. "I don't seem to find it so easy to forgive Albus."
"Harry, do you want to...?"
"Invite Ron and Hermione for Christmas? Yes. Forgive Albus? I don't know. I feel rather ambivalent where he's concerned."
"That's a rather fancy word for you to use, Mr. Potter."
"It means..."
"I know what it means." Ginny flicked on the indicator as they turned into the narrow, twisting road that led them to the Sheilhill gates. "I would like Ron and Hermione with us. The twins will have a contact number."
"I have it," Harry admitted. "I asked Hermione for her phone number. It would be good to have the entire family together again before I return to see Dumbledore and whatever destiny he's cooked up for me to fulfil. I know he's not evil, Gin, but he used me like a...a... thing. We would have both been sacrificed for his bloody 'greater good' and I can't forgive him for that."
Ginny gave Harry a sympathetic glance out of the corner of her eye. "Mum will be pleased that you're trying to patch things up a bit. She hasn't been happy that Ron and Hermione have been left out."
"No, nor was Remus."
"Jamie won't know what to do with himself. He's going to be so spoiled with another aunt and uncle fawning over him." Ginny flicked the indicator again. "Open the gates, Harry," she said.
"With magic or the electric gate-opener-thingy?"
"With the 'thingy'. The less magic we use outside the wards, the better."
"Your wish is my command." Harry dug into the glove compartment and pulled out the remote, aiming it at the gates. He pressed the button several times. "It's not working."
"It should be." Ginny drew the car to a gentle stop just in front of the entrance. "I put new batteries in yesterday. It was...oh!"
"What?" Harry was now hitting the button continuously with some force but without any obvious result.
"Harry! Stop doing that!" she exclaimed in exasperation.
"You did put in new batteries?"
"I said so, didn't I?"
Harry gave the remote control another shake and pressed the button a few more times for good measure. "It's fried."
"Do you think there's too much magic here?" Ginny asked worriedly. "Will they register it at the Ministry?"
"We're under a Fidelius and protected by the best goblin-built blood wards there are."
"That's not answering my question," Ginny muttered.
"I hope you warded the freezer," was all that Harry said.
Ginny's eyes snapped to Harry's. "Freezer?"
He pulled out his wand and with a quick flourish, the gates open and the car moved carefully up the bumpy drive.
xxxxxx
An excited Jamie was waiting for them by the front door as they divested themselves of their boots and warm clothing. All these strange new relatives were all very well but where was his Daddy? He threw himself into Harry's arms with a glad cry, burbling happy nonsense. Harry's eyes met those of his wife's above the messy black head. The message was given and received. He wouldn't risk his family any longer. You would have thought by now that he'd learned his lesson. Why throw away five years of caution in a couple of days? "Hey, trouble. You've been a good boy?"
Jamie giggled as Harry set him on his feet and he trotted away to where he'd strewn his toys.
"I made a start on dinner," said Molly, her loving gaze following the child. "I hope you didn't mind, Ginny dear."
"Not at all, Mum," Ginny replied, moving to the utility room. She breathed a sigh of relief. The freezer seemed to be okay for the moment, but it wouldn't hurt to review some protective cooling charms.
At the sound of approaching footsteps she turned quickly, meeting the bright green eyes of her husband now visible behind his famous round spectacle frames. "Everything okay?" Harry asked carefully.
She gave him a weary nod.
Harry pulled her into his arms and dropped a kiss on top of her head. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm a selfish prat. I just got too caught up in our 'ordinary' lives at the very time that I shouldn't have."
"It's just you being you," murmured Ginny, her head pressed against his shoulder.
"I never wanted any of it, Gin, but you know that already and I should stop whining, right?" He cleared his throat briskly. "Can we go back to the topic of inviting Ron and Hermione for Christmas?"
"I agree. Otherwise they'll be alone and as the rest of the family are here..."
"I think the twins and Bill and Fleur might not have stayed otherwise," Harry admitted. "And it's safer for them here at the moment. But that's not the only reason. I want a family Christmas – a proper one - and they're our family. They were my first experience of what a real family should be."
"It's the right thing to do." Ginny pressed a soft kiss upon his lips and Harry, almost forgetting that his mother-in-law and the rest of his family were only feet away, drank in her sweetness. Their lips clung together, the fire between them rising, until they reluctantly parted with the unspoken promise of more when they were alone.
"Witch!" Harry murmured, his voice deepening.
"Absolutely." Ginny smiled and ran a gentle finger over his cheek. "Ron and Hermione... Have you forgiven them?"
"Just about. I won't stand any more for Hermione thinking she can lecture and scold me like she could when I was eleven."
"Doesn't mean that she won't try."
"Wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't, would it?" Harry shrugged. "The thing is I can't deal with it the way I used to. I'm too used to making my own decisions and she's not always right."
"We make the decisions together, Potter," warned Ginny, her eyes twinkling.
"Yes, dear."
"Just so you know."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The Burrow
A quiet pop was the only sound heard as Ron Weasley apparated just outside the Burrow's protective wards. Noting with misgivings that the house was in total darkness, he moved towards it, his steps quickening. Hermione should be home by now. Ron checked his watch to make sure. He didn't like it when she was kept late at the Ministry by the prat. He refused to say his brother's name. That traitor was no part of their family after the stunts he had pulled. Still, even 'the prat' should be aware that it just wasn't safe for a high-profile muggleborn witch to be traipsing around the country by herself at odd times. There was a war on.
Ron had decided that he wasn't going to stand for it any longer and, even if it did annoy Hermione, he would steel himself to have a word with her... boss. He gave a sneer at the thought. They were a family known to be against You-know-who which made them all targets and their association with Harry...
He closed his eyes and sighed. Harry... He hadn't trusted them and Ron admitted that the dark-haired young man had been right. They'd not given him the support that they should have. Instead, they'd listened to those who had their own agenda and watched as Harry had grown quieter, paler, thinner and more withdrawn. He'd been ill, deprived of his magic and of the girl he loved.
His heart caught in his throat as he turned the doorknob – it wasn't locked. "Hermione!" he called, a hint of panic in his voice. "Hermione!"
A soft sob caught his attention.
"H...Hermione?" he queried softly, his voice cracking. "What's wrong? Are you alright? Why are you sitting in the dark and c...crying?" The questions tumbled from his lips.
"I couldn't do it, Ron," she hiccupped. "I couldn't."
"Lumos." He directed the spell at one of the lamps on the dresser. It lit with a dim glow but enough to see that Hermione's eyes were red and her face blotchy from the tears still trickling down her cheeks. He sat down beside her and put his arms around her. "What couldn't you do?"
"H...Harry," she said as if he would understand.
"Ah," he said with some understanding and some complete incomprehension. "What about Harry?"
"I saw him today," she said with a sniff, fumbling for a tissue. "I saw Harry."
His heart moved from his throat and started pounding in his chest, Ron managed to stammer, "you did? Bloody wicked."
"Ron," she managed to snap.
"But it is wicked. He's alive and if he's alive then we know that Ginny is as safe as she could be." He lifted one of his large hands and smoothed a thumb across her wet cheek. "What's got you so upset?"
"We went to a place within the area we thought Harry could be. It's a town called Elgin. Well, it's really a very small city because it has a medieval cathedral which..."
"Hermione..."
She flushed. "Sorry. Dumbledore only took me along because he thought I could persuade Harry to do what he wanted. He thought that I would be able to persuade Harry to return to Grimmauld Place."
Ron snorted disbelievingly. "Not a hope in hell. Does Dumbledore actually think that Harry would now do what he wants?"
Hermione shrugged. "Well...yes."
"The man's mad. Brilliant but mad." Ron's voice was admiring.
"But I couldn't do it. I couldn't take Harry by force," she confessed.
Ron shifted on the misshapen sofa pulling her tighter into his embrace. "I'm proud of you."
"What! But I..."
"Thought of Harry rather than what Dumbledore required you to do." Ron said. "We should have thought of what Harry wanted five years ago."
Hermione sniffled softly, burrowing herself into his arms. "When did you decide to grow up, Ron? I must have missed it."
"It's always been there... deep down," he said smugly. "My maturity, that is. I'm really an altogether kind of bloke." He gave her a squeeze. "Do you know if...?"
"Dumbledore and the Order got hold of Harry?" finished Hermione. "No. Harry did say that he would contact me but I decided to remove myself from the operation before it happened. I couldn't betray him that way. I would guess that Dumbledore will choose to leave me out of the loop for the time being. Harry wasn't surprised to see us. I have to hope that he had plans to evade capture by anyone."
"It's Harry and he's got out of worse situations." Ron's grin stretched across his face. "Did he really say that he would contact you?"
"Yes."
"Smashing. I knew that Harry couldn't stay mad forever."
"He's changed, Ron," warned Hermione. "He's not the Harry that left us."
Ron nodded decisively. "Good. We've all changed, Hermione. We're five years older for a start. We're engaged and Harry's married. I did say that we couldn't keep treating Harry the way we used to."
She sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Did you? I can't recall that."
Ron frowned. "Maybe I thought it rather than saying it."
"He's harder."
"Merlin!" exclaimed Ron. "Harry was made of stone before he left. How could he get harder? More focused, maybe?"
"I think so - more focused on staying alive." She sighed.
"Hermione, Harry's been focused on staying alive since he was eleven."
"But he's got Ginny with him now. He has her to protect."
Ron snorted and muttered something that Hermione knew was a swear word teamed with something about bat bogeys and woe betide anyone foolish enough to cross her path. "Ginny would argue that she can protect herself. Harry doesn't trust us or Dumbledore to keep her safe. He doesn't trust us at all. That's probably why he walked out and left us and I hate to say it but, he has a point."
"He has." Hermione's eyes filled again. "We were just going to hand Ginny over to Malfoy. Harry knew that the muggle world would keep them safer. I'm supposed to be one of the brightest witches of my age and I just let it happen without exploring all avenues. I did try - just not hard enough."
"Yes, the fact that Ginny was to be married off the very day she disappeared was undoubtedly the main reason for their flight followed by Harry's loss of his magic. Dumbledore would not have told us that little important fact about Harry's magic unless he had to. It's a security risk. The headmaster wouldn't want anyone to know that Harry was defenceless."
"But he's not..."
"No, he has Ginny by his side and she's an extremely powerful witch. She's scarier than many of You-know-who's pals. I think I'd rather face them than Ginny in a major snit. Let's face it. We gave up and Harry never did."
"No, he didn't." Hermione wriggled from his grasp and made her way to the stove. A few seconds later the kettle was whistling merrily. She filled a couple of large mugs with tea and handed one to her fiancé. "Ron, Harry didn't lose his magic."
"But Dumbledore said that he was as magical as a squib." Ron nodded his thanks as his hands closed around the steaming mug.
"Maybe he was when he left but he did magic when I was there. Strong magic."
Ron grinned. "Great. That's our Harry."
Hermione took a sip of her tea and nodded. "It's more than great, Ron. It's fantastic but it shouldn't have happened."
"What do you mean?"
Hermione shuddered. "I read up on that hex after Fleur told us about it. I found it in a book in the library at Grimmauld Place that your mum missed in her cleanup."
"You mean, the books you stashed away before Mum saw that they were Dark Arts materials?" Ron offered knowingly.
Hermione blushed. "Well, yes. There's no way Harry should be able to perform any magic at all – none – not after that hex. The spell drains you of all your magic until you have no more than a squib. It should be classed as an unforgiveable."
"But you can recover, right?" asked Ron anxiously.
"Supposedly... but it's a very old curse, very dark, almost forgotten until now. There have been few documented cases where the subject recovers but they took years to recover a fraction of what had drained away. There are things that have to be done almost immediately to halt the loss of the magic."
"Like what?"
Hermione pulled an ancient book from behind the cushion she was leaning against. "There are counterspells," she exclaimed softly. "But even with all my study of spells and charms, I couldn't have done these without a great deal of practise. It would need to have been someone trained in the medical arts or an extremely powerful wizard."
"But we are talking about Harry, Hermione. He can do things that no other wizard can – even Dumbledore. And I'm counting 'sheer dumb luck' as Professor McGonagall once put it." Ron shrugged off the impossibility of his best friend's improbable recovery.
"But suppose Harry isn't properly healed from the hex. Suppose doing any magic will leave him vulnerable to attack."
"Did he look vulnerable?"
"No."
"Then he's fine." Ron took a large gulp of his tea as if the matter was closed and in his mind it was. Harry would be fine and would get in contact with them when it was safe to do so. He knew he'd not given Harry the support that his friend had deserved but they'd all believed implicitly in Dumbledore's words and actions back then. Perhaps the headmaster wasn't as infallible as they'd all thought. All he could do was be there for his best mate. Harry would need them all again.
A sudden strange buzzing from Hermione's robe interrupted the comfortable silence. "My phone!" she exclaimed. "But it never works here. That's a first." She patted about her person until she located the device. "Hello," she answered cautiously.
There was a burst of static and then a voice could be heard shouting her name.
"The line's not very clear," she muttered to Ron. "Must be all the magical interference."
"Hermione, it's Harry!" The voice emerged through the static.
"Harry?"
"Harry Potter," he said as if she knew any other Harrys.
"What about Dumbledore?" she shouted.
"Missed me," came the faint answer.
"I'm moving to the edge of the wards," Hermione shouted as she headed for the kitchen door. "I have to get out of the house for the phone to work properly. Don't hang up."
"I won't," came the reply.
"Hermione! Hermione!" Ron jumped to his feet and chased after his fiancée. "It's not safe to be out of the wards."
"Have your wand ready," she shot back. "Come on, before we lose the signal."
"Lose the what?"
"The signal," she replied. "These mobile phones have improved very much in the last few years but can still be temperamental. Apparently the makers are working to reduce their size. Harry? Are you still there?"
"Yes." The voice was clearer. "Is Ron with you?"
"Yes." Hermione turned Ron and mouthed, "It's Harry."
Ron rolled his eyes."I gathered that," he muttered. "How many Harry's do we know?" He winced as Hermione dug her elbow into his side. "Ow, Hermione! That hurt."
There was a dry chuckle at the other end of the phone. "I'm phoning you with an invitation but you cannot speak about it to anyone other than Ron."
"What about Dumbledore?"
"I've arranged to meet with him after the holidays. He can wait. Would you and Ron like to spend Christmas with me?"
Hermione could see the yearning in Ron's eyes and the frantic nodding. "We would like that, yes. But are you sure about Dumbledore?"
Harry gave the little sardonic chuckle once more. "Tell the old man anything and the deal is off." He sighed and his voice sounded warmer, more like the Harry of old. "It will be a proper Potter-Weasley Christmas – the first time we've all been together in five years. I'm not sure if Charlie will be able to get away from the Dragon Reserve but the rest of the family will be here. We've plenty room."
Hermione handed the phone to Ron who placed it gingerly against his ear. "We'd love to come," he shouted.
"You don't need to shout," said Harry, immediately moving the handset away from his abused ear. "Apparate to Elgin on Friday," he said thoughtfully. "Somewhere around about the Cathedral would be best as it is a strong building. Might be able to disguise the magic. I'll get someone to pick you up. I can't give you the exact location. Fidelius charm and goblin wards, you know."
"I forgot that you don't have to shout," Ron mumbled. "Anyway, I was thirteen the last time I used one of these things. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked Hermione.
"Sometimes I think you still are thirteen...mentally."
"That's not fair, Hermione..."
"Ron!" Harry called to get his attention. "Did you hear what I said? Someone will pick you up on Friday. Around four."
"Sure thing, mate. See you then."
Ron handed the phone to Hermione, who put it to her ear but Harry had gone. "We'd better get ourselves organised," she murmured putting the phone back into her robe pocket.
"Organised?" Ron pulled her back into the house and rechecked the wards with a wave of his wand. "What is there to organise?"
Hermione had whipped out a quill from somewhere and was already making a list on a long piece of parchment. "Clothes, presents... we'll need to take food and some bottles of wine..."
"My broom," said Ron.
Hermione stopped what she was doing and frowned. "Your broom?"
"A Weasley get-together always has a pickup game or two of Quidditch."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Ron, I hate to point this out to you but I will. Harry's in hiding, he may not be in an area where it is possible to have a game of Quidditch and I don't think he took his broom with him."
"I doubt Harry would have gone without the Firebolt," Ron maintained stubbornly. "It's still the best racing broom on the market."
"Merlin spare me," she muttered.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Albus Dumbledore wearily watched the gargoyle shift aside and the spiral staircase appear to take him to his office. He'd sent Moody and Hestia home as there was nothing more they could do for the moment. His latest attempt to get Harry to safety had been met once more with failure.
He couldn't help but ponder on Moody's parting words.
"Give it up, Albus, before you alienate the boy completely. Wherever he is, he's safe. So safe that we can't get to him and I don't think that the Death Eaters can either. He won't give up the Weasley girl to Lucius Malfoy and from what Bill Weasley was doing at the Ministry I don't think there's anything legally he or we can do."
"Old magic is powerful," said the headmaster, steepling his fingers together in front of his long crooked nose.
"We are aware that it's powerful and we accept that it exists. But it wouldn't be the first time that Voldemort has ignored what came long before written magic. Magic accepted their union - you said it yourself - despite the trickery that the Malfoys attempted. He's powerful, Albus. I could see it. He's not the same young man who walked out on us five years ago."
And Albus knew that very well and he was glad but it made things much more difficult. Still, Harry had survived this long. Who was he to say that the young man wouldn't win when he faced Voldemort in magical combat once more? "I know. But it makes things much more difficult."
"To control him?"
"No, it means he will not be prepared to work well with others. I never wanted to control Harry – I only ever wanted to keep him safe." Dumbledore's face looked drawn.
The look Moody had given him had been full of disbelief. "Albus, you're a manipulative old goat and you know it. Whatever Potter has to do - and it has to be him, I take it?"
Albus managed to nod.
"Then perhaps you should just let him do it." He stomped over to the door, false eyeball rolling wildly in its socket. " He said he would meet with you after the holidays. I suggest you wait for that and see what he says without trying to confund him and imprison him in Grimmauld Place. He won't take kindly to it. He can withstand the Imperious and as he owns the house anyway, he can control the wards."
"I take your point, Alastor."
"See that you do." Moody had left with an aggravated humph and the headmaster had been left alone to ponder the old auror's words. Alastor Moody didn't believe in saying what he wanted to hear just because he was Albus Dumbledore. Come to think of it, Harry Potter had joined that select band of wizards.
With a rustle of wings and a sudden burst of gentle song, Fawkes left his perch and fluttered down to sit on the desk.
Dumbledore gave a sigh of relief as the tension slipped away from his shoulders and he felt his heart lift. "Ah, thank you my friend," he crooned to the brilliantly coloured bird. "I needed that." He stared the bird right in the eye, his expression pensive. "Do you think I did wrong by Harry?"
The bird emitted a mournful stream of liquid notes.
"Ah, you do." He sighed once more. The headmasters of Hogwarts slept silently in their portraits. The little silver knick-knacks dotted around were also still apart from one little thing that spun incessantly. It had only recently regained its current rapid movement. It had only started to whirl merrily when reports of Harry had started flooding in. It had made him hope that Harry would be returned to them.
Dumbledore eased himself from his chair and made his way to the infirmary. "Everything satisfactory. Poppy?"
The nurse jumped. "Albus, you startled me," she said. "I nearly poured this container of Pepper-up all over the floor."
"I do beg your pardon," Dumbledore apologised smoothly. "I've come to visit the patient. Is he ready to be moved?"
Poppy Pomfrey finished pouring the Pepper-up into the smaller vial before she answered. "He is but he's still far from well."
"It's not safe for him here at Hogwarts."
"No, not with all the children of Death Eaters still attending school." Poppy picked up a quill and made some notes in a journal sitting on her desk. "Most of them, however, left on the train this morning to go home for the holidays."
"That is why it is best to move Severus now. The remaining heads of houses have sponsored a Christmas gathering in the Charms classroom. The infirmary is empty of students and you are going to your sisters' for the festive period. I would rather Severus be with others."
"He wouldn't," muttered Poppy sourly. "Not if you're sending him to Grimmauld Place."
"It is a safe place."
"Sirius Black didn't think so," she stated briskly without looking at the headmaster. "For him it was another prison. It will be the same for Severus."
"He is a different wizard from Sirius. It is only the Death Eaters that hunt him or they would, if they knew he was still alive. Once he regains his strength then he may do what he wants."
"I don't know if he'll ever be strong enough, Albus," Poppy admitted sombrely. "It's a miracle he's alive – even with magic to aid in his cure. I suspect his constitution took too heavy a beating. He may never regain his full fitness."
Dumbledore looked startled. "Surely that's not the case, Poppy?"
"Oh, but it is. When you go in, try not to upset him. In fact..." She handed him one of the vials she'd been preparing. "This is a calming draught. See if you can get him to take it. I would like him to actually relax and sleep."
Dumbledore pocketed the vial. "I will try."
Poppy shrugged, the movement peculiar under all her starched whiteness and gestured to the full-length portrait of a choleric looking wizard dressed in a lime green healers robe. "You will have to persuade Ezekiel Butterfield to open the door. He is most unpleasant. I will be most happy to have Dilys Derwent returned once we have no need to hide Severus."
"I heard that, you stupid woman," barked the portrait. "Call yourself a physician?"
"I am not arguing with a wizard who has been dead for one hundred and fifty years and that's because he mixed up two of his own potions," snapped the mediwitch.
"How dare you, witch," snarled Ezekiel and opened his mouth to start ranting.
"If I may, Healer Butterfield?" interrupted Dumbledore mildly. "I would like to visit with your patient."
"He is no patient of mine. In the old days a patient had to be really sick to deserve treatment in this infirmary. Where are the leeches? Has he been bled?"
"Healer Butterfield?" Dumbledore gently reminded the portrait of his duty. "If you could?"
"Password?"
Dumbledore frowned and glanced at Poppy. She grimaced and sighed before enunciating clearly. "Bulbadox Powder." The portrait swung aside revealing a plain wooden door.
The headmaster's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, "Bulbadox powder," he repeated. "That's not something I've heard for many a year."
"No, thankfully the use of that treatment on haemorrhoids has all but vanished." Poppy sniffed. "You should not have asked him for his suggestions. That was the best of a really bad bunch."
Dumbledore gave the mediwitch a wry smile. "Ah, I see." He smiled and Poppy took it as her cue to remove herself from the office. Once the mediwitch had disappeared, he gave a gentle tap on the door.
"Enter." The voice was slow, drawling carefully through every letter.
"Severus," Dumbledore said, a genial smile on his lips as he hid his pity for the wizard seated in a large green leather armchair, a book open on his lap. The Potions Professor had always been a powerful presence in their lives, tall and gaunt, with his long lank hair and eyes so dark that the irises merged with the blackness of the pupils. Now, the eyes were sunken in and the spare frame was emaciated to the point of being skeletal. Long fingers clutched at the shawl wrapped around his bony shoulders for warmth.
"Headmaster," he replied, his voice a thread of sound.
"You are looking stronger."
The Potions Master gave a derisive sniff, a glint of something approaching his familiar cold fire appearing in the depths of his black eyes. "I know exactly what I look like, Albus, and it isn't good."
Dumbledore held up his hand. "Peace, Severus, I did not come to quarrel."
Snape carefully turned a page in his book, his gaze fixed on the pages. "You came here for a reason?"
"Madam Pomfrey thinks you are well enough to be moved..."
"Moved where?" Snape snarled. "You make me sound like a piece of disposable merchandise. Oh, I'm sorry, I am a piece of disposable..."
"Severus!" thundered Dumbledore. "Enough." His voice softened. "My boy, you were never that. Your bravery saved more lives than I could count. I am glad that you are still alive."
"I am alive. Something that should not have come to pass. The Dark Lord wished me dead, ergo, I am dead."
"Yet you are alive."
Snape lifted his dark eyes briefly to those of his mentor. "I am not living. I cannot walk freely about this school as I did before. I cannot help you..."
"Severus, I value you far more than you think I do. I did not want your death on my conscience."
"I make my own decisions, Albus, whether they are good or bad. Your conscience is your own to deal with." Snape closed the book carefully, his hands tense. "What of the Potter brat?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "Harry... Severus, Harry is hardly a child. He's twenty-three, a young man. But, Harry is, as usual, proving to be rather stubborn."
"Not doing what you want him to do, is he?" remarked the Potions Professor snidely. "He never could follow the rules set out for his and everyone else's safety."
"Severus..."
"Potter always was an arrogant, attention-seeking, spoiled..." He clenched his teeth. "Just like his father before him."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. Would Severus ever see Harry for who he was? "Harry was never spoiled or attention-seeking. You never saw Harry, you only saw James. You were never able to get past a childish grudge."
"It was more than a grudge," Severus interrupted feverishly, his eyes wild. "You know what they did to me. I could have died."
"But you did not and you were never blameless in your altercations with James and his friends. You are a grown man and you chose to vent your spite upon a child – a child who had never known his father. You could have died this time but you were found in time by the right person. You cannot cling on to your hatred."
Snape's lip curled. "You may find that I can."
Dumbledore gave Snape a disappointed look. "Harry may have looked like James but he is much more like his mother. Severus, Harry truly is Lily's son. He inherited much more than those green eyes of hers. If he had not found you..."
The Potion Master's jaw clenched. "Don't you think I know that," he snarled. "Do you think I want to be indebted to Potter's spawn? I was ready to die, I deserved it, welcomed it. But no, the little bastard had to be wandering nonchalantly about the woods after all that we'd done to find him – after all I had done to protect him. Had he no thought of the danger he'd placed himself in? No. He had to be noble and have my life owed to him as did his father before him." He stopped suddenly, his face paling unhealthily.
Dumbledore had never seen such pallor on one who was still alive. "Severus...I'll call for Poppy."
"No need. Sorry," he muttered, fumbling in his robes, his shaking hands uncorking a vial and tipping the contents down his throat. He shuddered as the taste of the potion made itself evident. "Merlin, that's vile and I brewed it."
"Severus..."
"I promised you that I would protect the boy," he whispered, his breathing shallow. "I did it for Lily. Not for you, or Potter or even the boy. I did it for her."
"Oh, Severus."
"And this is how he repays me." His voice began to rise again, the anger clearly discernible on his face. "Lily's sacrifice was all in vain and that posturing numbskull prevents me from joining her in death." The last word had risen to a howl of bitter frustration. "I owe him my life, one that I didn't want to keep!"
"Life is precious, Severus," Dumbledore said warningly. "There are those of us here who would not like to see you throw it away so recklessly when others had no choice but to leave this adventure and set out on the next one. Yes, you cannot spy for us but you are one of the best Potions Professors in the whole of Europe."
Snape's fingers' tightened on the book he was holding before placing it on the table by his chair. "What do you want?" he asked.
"There will be times ahead when we need your skills for healing. I need you to make Wolfsbane, Veritaserum, calming and sleeping draughts because our stocks are low. You know Voldemort's methods and moods better than anyone else that we have. Oh, you are valuable to us, my boy. As I said, Poppy thinks that you are well enough to be moved if we are careful but we can only do it once all the students are in bed."
"I'm still 'dead' then?"
"I suspect that Voldemort and his associates deduce you may be healthier than they hoped but they have no proof without the body. For your own safety we will not contradict reports of your unfortunate demise."
"How Slytherin of you, Albus."
The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "I may have been a Gryffindor but the sorting hat said that I could have done well in any of the other houses."
"Yes, you do show some Hufflepuff tendencies," sneered Snape.
"There are several children of current Death Eaters attending Hogwarts. Young Mister Eaglesham has never been accident prone in all of his six years attending the school but he has snooping round the hospital wing, your office and your potions classroom down to a fine art. He and Mister Yaxley."
Snape smirked. "Eaglesham is a fool and Herbert Yaxley's far too much like his father."
"We will wait until after curfew and then use the hidden passages to smuggle you out of the school."
"How are you getting me to London? I am making an educated guess that I will be recuperating at Grimmauld Place and I am well aware that I am not fit enough to apparate or fly. Poppy would not allow you to move me otherwise."
"You will be using the Floo at the Hogshead," stated Albus. "I have it on Aberforth's word that it is not being monitored closely by the Ministry. The school fireplaces, as you know, are not secure."
Snape dipped his head in agreement. "No, not if the Ministry is as compromised as we've always suspected."
"The House Elves have packed your belongings for storage. Your private potions lab has been transferred in its entirety to the basement of Grimmauld Place. It is large enough and well warded for brewing."
"And Potter?" Snape asked carefully, his eyes darting away from the headmaster's.
"Ah, yes. As I said, Harry is being stubborn. He is safe but unwilling to give away his location...even to me."
"You really don't know where he is?" Snape paused and then a soft sinister chuckle burst from low in his chest. "You really don't know where he is?" he repeated. "I find that singularly amusing."
Dumbledore's eyes flashed angrily as he exhaled loudly. "It is for his own protection that we seek him."
Snape's deep-set eyes gleamed. "He's managed without your protection for five years. What of the Weasley chit?"
"Safe, I think. Bill Weasley formally registered her marriage to Harry at the Ministry."
Snape did stare at Dumbledore at that point. The boy's bid for independence had been a successful one. "They are married? But..."
"The Malfoy contract faded away. The magic within did not hold. Ginny Weasley is now Mrs. Harry Potter. Something stronger took precedence – Harry's love for Ginny. There is nothing I, or the Ministry can do."
"No, not if Weasley formally announced the marriage. It is strange..." the potions professor mused thoughtfully.
"How so, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.
Snape pursed his lips before answering. "The Weasleys are still a pureblood family even if they don't behave like one but it is, I must admit, unusual behaviour. It's almost as if they've been advised to follow these traditions. Who would the Weasley family turn to for advice if not Albus Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore held out his hands, the picture he made, strangely helpless. Severus had brought up an idea he had not considered. "The Malfoys are, I am told, furious," he said. "And will make things difficult. But they have no legal evidence."
"The contract just faded away?" Snape echoed. "Lucius had the best lawyers draw up that agreement." He chuckled again. "I don't like Potter but I dislike Lucius Malfoy even more and hearing that his plans have been thwarted does fill me with some satisfaction."
"I can understand why you feel that way. You and Lucius were Slytherins together. But Harry and Ginny were more devious or determined than I planned for... or thought," he amended.
"Planned, Albus?"
"I love the boy, Severus, more than I should. But it should never have gone this far. He has threatened to leave the wizarding world."
Snape's sunken eyes widened in shock. "The Poster Boy of the wizarding world threatening to leave! Well, there's hope for him yet."
Dumbledore frowned. "Harry is the only wizard who can destroy Voldemort but each of us can play our parts. You have more than done yours, Severus." He leant forwards and patted Snape gently on the shoulder. "I will return after curfew." He straightened up as Madam Pomfrey bustled in.
"I must insist that my patient gets some rest." She tapped at the back of the door. "Healer Butterfield will let you out."
Dumbledore nodded and, as he pulled the door closed behind him, they heard his genial voice say loudly, "Ah, Mr. Eaglesham, have you come to see Madam Pomfrey? She did say you were hanging around the infirmary. Have you something you want to discuss with her? No matter how embarrassing, we all have these little issues when we hit puberty. Why, I did at your age. No, you don't want to see her? There's a tonic that will certainly help..."
They could hear the young man mumbling and could picture the scene as he fled the infirmary. Poppy chuckled. "He won't be back today."
Severus raised a thin eyebrow. "No, I don't suppose he will. Considered for all the houses! Hah! That man should have been a Slytherin."