Title: The Boys Who Lived

Author: Shara Lunison

Beta: Batsutousai

Rating for this Chapter: T

Pairings: Harry/Henry (OMC), several others—none of them canon
Warnings: SLASH, twincest, slightly manipulative!Dumbledore, grey Harry/Henry, OoC-ness, major character death

Summary: The Potter twins are attacked by Voldemort and somehow defeat him. Now the Dark Lord has returned and they have to choose between light and dark. SLASH, Twincest, rated M for later chapters.

Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Only one more chapter and the epilogue after this one!

Chapter Thirty-Seven—Resonance

An emergency meeting of the Potter Brigade was called when Draco received the letter from his mother. The news that Voldemort was experimenting with symbiotic spells caused quite the argument amongst the members of their group. Only Harry and Henry seemed immune to the news, and when things got particularly heated in the meeting room, they intervened.

"Don't you understand?" Harry finally yelled over the sound of the others shouting. They quieted, everyone turning to look at him. "This is 'the power the Dark Lord knows not'."

"Voldemort is trying to get the spells to work, but he's been completely unsuccessful at doing so. First Lucius, then Severus, now Bellatrix. None of them are compatible, and he's only getting as far as he is because of the dark mark," Henry said.

"More importantly," Harry continued, "Snape has gone missing. We need to focus on finding him before Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters do."

Everyone nodded and slowly returned to their seats.

"Does anyone have an idea of how to find him?" Henry asked.

"We don't have enough information on where he went missing to begin with," Hermione said with frustration. "Presumably, he was at the Hogsmeade Massacre, and that was where the Dark Lord lost control of the spell and left him to recover on his own. But if he was in any kind of condition similar to Mr. Malfoy, he wouldn't have been able to get far on his own."

"Mum said that Barty Crouch Jr. had been set to protect Severus during the Battle for Hogwarts, and continued to do so during the summer. Crouch has been missing since the Massacre as well." Draco leaned over the table to make his point. "So, assuming Snape was incapacitated and Crouch wanted to protect him more than obey the Dark Lord, they are probably together."

"Or Crouch took the opportunity to kill him," Sirius said cynically. "Still, it seems our best bet."

"So we need to figure out where Crouch might take them that they would be safe. Doesn't his father work in the ministry?" Remus asked Amelia.

She nodded slowly, adjusting her monocle. "He was once higher up in the Minister's office, and well on his way to becoming Minister himself. When his son was revealed as a Death Eater during the trials, though, he was demoted down to one of the minor offices. But now that Voldemort has taken over, I sincerely doubt he's entered the Ministry of his own volition since. He's probably hiding at home or in another safe place."

"What's the likelihood of Crouch going home?" Horace asked.

No one was quite sure of an answer to that. "He was supposed to be dead," Amelia shared. "He was sent to Azkaban by his own father. His mother died of heartbreak shortly thereafter. Crouch was apparently sickly as a child and he only lasted a few months in the prison before passing himself. Except apparently not, since he's turned up now."

Harry tried to wrap his mind around it. "Mother and son died at around the same time, then? It's too bad we can't see the logs of who visited Azkaban around the time Crouch was supposed to have died. I'll bet anything his parents paid him a visit shortly before he died."

"You think he and his mother switched places?" Amelia gasped.

"It would make sense," Harry said. "But it's pure speculation. That would mean Barty has been living with his father all these years, until the Dark Lord returned and he went back to his master."

"Then his home is the best place to look," Ron finished.

Now that they had a plan formed, however unlikely, they adjourned until more information could be gathered. The adult members of the group formed a rotation that would watch the Crouch residence in the hopes of catching either the elder or junior Crouch entering or leaving.

-o-0-o-

Severus did not come back to himself all at once. When he did have cognizant moments, he had no idea where he was or what was going on around him. Time passed in a muddled cloud that had no beginning or end. All was floating nothingness occasionally punctuated by pain or thirst or hunger. Those were the moments when he felt himself, and he wished them away like everything else. The floating was much more peaceful. He didn't want to remember who he was. He didn't want to remember why he was hiding in the first place.

But there was one constant that tempted him to return to the present. A singing in his skin and in his magic that threatened to overwhelm his very soul with every second it remained near to him. It felt so wonderful he could have wept, except he was trying his very best not to feel anything at all.

Eventually that singing—that resonance—won out. He awoke after he knew not how long and took stock of the situation with his typical mental acumen.

He was lying in a bed. The ceiling above was that of a cottage. Bright white stucco pierced with the dark wood of oaken beams. Turning his head, he found the source of everything he had been both fighting and yearning for during his unconscious moments.

Barty slept there, sitting upright in a chair beside the bed. Or, mostly upright. He was hunched over in a very uncomfortable looking position, all so that his hand could rest on the bed entwined with Severus' own. Where their skin met, his magic lay coiled and placid. It was exactly like a purring cat, he decided. With every breath in and out, his magic was purring happily to be so near to Barty; to see their hands joined at long last.

Severus didn't try very hard to remember. He had been running from this for so long, and he didn't particularly care why anymore. It didn't matter. There was a resonance, and that was enough.

"Barty," he tried to whisper. It came out as a half-choked croak. He noticed for the first time that he was parched.

The noise was enough to wake the man in the chair, who came alert with a start, then stared down at Severus lying awake in the bed. "Sev…"

Severus gulped with difficulty. That was what Lily had always called him. "Water?" he tried.

Barty jumped to at once, but unfortunately took his hand from Severus' in the process. Severus made a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. Without the contented feeling of his magic, it was now readily apparent that he was very sore and very tired.

"Here, drink," Barty said, returning with a goblet of water in one hand. He helped to raise Severus' head up, which helped more than he probably realized as all of Severus' aches and pains were chased away once more.

After gulping down the water, Severus tried to speak once more. "Do you feel that?"

"Of course," Barty said, setting aside the goblet. "Though I'm glad to know it's not just me."

Sighing, Severus rested back against the pillows again. "What does it mean?"

"I've been trying to find out," Barty answered. He kept his hand beneath Severus' head and reached out the other to gently touch the other man's face. "I suspect it's much more than we can begin to imagine."

"Hmm…" Severus mused. He felt so delightfully comfortable. Before he realized it, he was slipping into unconsciousness again. But this time instead of escape, it was true rest.

"My heart and my soul," Barty whispered. He leaned down and gently brushed his lips over Severus'. Their magic sang at the contact.

"So he's awake, now?"

Barty didn't turn at the voice. "Yes, Father. When he's well we will leave you in peace, as I promised."

Barty Crouch Sr. made a disparaging noise but left the room as silently as he had come. He would need to send Winky to procure some more supplies now that the injured Potions Master was finally awake. He retreated to his study and wrote up a quick list of the essentials.

"Winky!"

With a pop, the tiny house elf appeared in the room and presented a neat curtsy. "Master called, sir?"

Rolling his eyes at her redundancy, he presented her with the list. "Go and purchase these things. Try not to be seen."

"Yes, Master sir," she said, curtsying again. "Winky wants to warn Master Crouch sir that there are wizards outside watching the house."

"What?" he barked. Striding to the closest window, he threw back the curtain and peered outside into the street. Standing on the opposite corner was a gentleman in a trench coat, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. "How long has he been there?"

"More than an hour, Master sir. And he keeps looking at the house. Before him there was a woman sitting on the bench and trying to knits, sir."

Even as Crouch watched, he saw the man surreptitiously glance at the house and away again. Peering a little more closely, he could see a small pile of cigarette butts on the pavement at his feet.

Closing the curtain with a snarl, he waved Winky away and stalked back to Barty's room where the two Death Eaters were ensconced.

"Someone is watching the house," he said without ceremony. He was polite enough to keep his voice down for the injured man, but made sure the urgency he felt was adequately expressed.

Barty turned to look at him with concern. "Already? Is it a Death Eater?"

"I would hardly know," Crouch said with a grimace.

Reluctantly, Barty pulled himself away from the sleeping man, who promptly grimaced and muttered in his sleep. Barty followed his father back into the study and peered around the edge of the curtain to see the man across the street. He grunted at what he saw, then nervously licked his lips. "Not a Death Eater. So that's good news."

"If it's not the Dark Lord, then who?" Crouch asked.

Barty shrugged. "Dunno. I could speculate, but there wouldn't be much point."

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

"Same thing I promised to do. Get Severus better and get out of here. Only now instead of doing it quietly, we'll let them see us leaving so they hopefully don't bother you anymore."

Crouch grimaced. "I would rather see you safe."

Barty flushed slightly and looked away. "And I you, Father." He returned to his room and Crouch tried to get some work done. He couldn't help occasionally looking out the curtains, though. He saw two more people take the man's place. They weren't doing a very good job of being surreptitious. They all picked the same corner to perch on. One of them almost looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her.

As soon as Winky returned with the supplies he sent her out again to begin converting one of the other Crouch properties into a safe house. They would all go into hiding. He would keep his son safe, as he had promised his late wife.

-o-0-o-

Voldemort sat on his throne in the Malfoy ballroom and struggled to contain his magic within his skin. It was a lost cause. No matter what he did, there was a constant crackling of energy around him. Bellatrix had lasted the longest under the symbiotic spell thus far, but it seemed even her devotion was not enough. What was he missing! There must be something…

As he turned his thoughts to that problem, he lost control of his magic at last. The black cloud snapped faster than ever this time, and he came back to himself slumped over the arm of the throne with Bellatrix lying prone at his feet.

It was as he stared down at his most faithful follower that he realized the problem. It was as Severus said. Separating his soul into so many pieces had weakened him. But it was not his mind, but his magic!

He straightened slowly, and nudged Bellatrix with one bare foot.

She moaned and came to slowly, sitting up with a confused air. This was an improvement over Lucius' madness, at least.

"Master?"

"I have a task for you, Bellatrix," Voldemort murmured.

"Anything, master!" she said fervently, her senses coming back fast now.

"There is an object I once entrusted to you. A golden cup. Fetch it now and bring it to me."

She struggled to her feet and left to do his bidding at once.

Voldemort remained in the throne, too exhausted to do more for now. He would reabsorb the piece from the cup and then try this experiment again. The locket and the ring were still safe, he was sure. No one would ever know where to find them, especially with Dumbledore dead. If the cup was not enough, then perhaps he would go for those as well.

He would have rather collected Henry Potter and attempted to retrieve the piece from the brat. It was the least secure. A human container was so fragile—eventually he would have to take that piece anyway, lest the boy destroy a part of his soul with something as ridiculous as old age. Unfortunately, both of the Potter twins were missing along with the rest of the Hogwarts students. It was a problem for another time.

For now, the cup would do.

-o-0-o-

Narcissa watched through her spyholes at every hour of the day and night. She had set some of the house elves to watching particularly important ones—those in the Dark Lord's quarters and some of the other Death Eaters. Unfortunately, there was not a good spyhole for the ballroom. That was problematic as much of his business was conducted there. She had to make do with a small curtained balcony that opened directly over the Dark Lord's throne. Standing on the other side of the curtain, a person could hear most of went on down below. But the position was exposed. She ran the risk of being seen.

She had seen Bellatrix again after several days where the witch had presumably been joined with Voldemort through the duo universus spell. Her sister hadn't seemed any the worse for wear, and had left the Manor in a great hurry. Narcissa was waiting beside the curtained balcony to see what would happen when her sister returned. She had had to hide from several Death Eaters already, holding her breath and shunting extra power into her disillusionment spell. She had never been meant to be a spy.

Lucky enough for her, Bellatrix was quick about whatever task Voldemort had set her.

"Master, I have the cup!" Bella exclaimed in her childish tones.

"Bring it to me," Voldemort ordered.

Narcissa listened intently, trying to gain some clue as to what was happening in the next room. There was a clink as something metal was set down, probably on the arm of the throne.

"Leave me," Voldemort said then.

She could hear Bella's scuttling footsteps leaving the room, then silence.

Narcissa was about to throw caution to the wind and peer around the curtain to try and see what the Dark Lord was doing, but then she became conscious of a growing pulse of strong magic. What was he doing!? She couldn't deny the impulse to see what was happening. Slowly, cautiously she slipped past the edge of the curtain, barely brushing it, and looked over the very furthest edge of the balcony.

Below, Voldemort had cut open the palms of both hand and filled a small golden chalice with his blood. Cupping the object in both hands, he raised it up and chanted some kind of spell she didn't recognize. It didn't sound like Latin or Greek.

The maelstrom of magic that had been building coalesced into a pitch black dome around the Dark Lord as she watched. It swirled faster and faster, kicking up a wind that forced Narcissa to shield her eyes. The curtains behind her whipped back and forth from the sheer power of that wind.

The dome of black energy suddenly stopped and hardened into a smooth shield, then sucked inward with a thunderous boom of displaced air. Covering her ears, Narcissa continue to watch. She saw the Dark Lord as the magic dissipated. He looked older now, and the cup was a molten puddle of gold on the ballroom floor.

Voldemort shifted his shoulders as though stretching long unused muscles, then moved to stalk from the room. Before he had even moved, Narcissa had slithered back through the curtain and into a nearby hidden passageway. Whatever had happened, she hoped Draco would find some use in the information.

-o-0-o-

"That's it then," Harry said softly when they heard the news. "All that's left is the piece in Henry."

The others were quiet in response. No one knew what to say.

"Please excuse us," Harry finally said. He took Hen by the hand and led him from the meeting room and to one of the spare rooms on the third floor of the Academy. Henry was ominously silent all the way up to the room.

It was as the door clicked shut that he broke. The barrier between their minds, tenuous as it always was now, shuddered and fell. Harry was inundated with Henry's despair, his fear, and his heartache.

"It's not fair," Henry said.

Harry pulled his brother close, pillowing Henry's head on his own shoulder and rubbing gentle circles on his back. Henry just sobbed, muffled words occasionally breaking through the tears as he just let it all out.

"It's all right," Harry murmured, sending soothing strength and love across their bond. "It's all right. I have a plan."

Henry quieted on hearing this, and struggled to bite back his tears so he could listen. When he judged that Henry had calmed enough, Harry continued. "There will be a last battle. We'll have Snape on our side by then. I think he and Barty might have the ability to do symbiotic spells as well as we can. You and I will become Lylas, and they'll become whoever they are. And we'll ask them to use pax pacis caedo on us."

Henry's arms tightened around Harry to the point of pain. "Together?"

"Always," Harry whispered. "I would never leave you, even if I could."

They held each other closely and the promise echoed between them like a litany of broken dreams.

-o-0-o-

"Master sir, there is another person watching the house now," Winky told Crouch Sr. more than a week after the watchers had started.

"What do you mean, another?" he demanded, moving once again to the study window.

"Winky means now there are two. The ones who have been watching, and another."

Crouch peered through a gap in the curtains to see what she meant. The regular watcher—a woman sitting on the bench and failing at knitting—was there as always. It took him a few moments to locate the new watcher. He was much more successful at hiding while observing the Crouch house, hidden behind a bin between two town houses across the way. He also looked much more like Death Eater material.

Cursing, Crouch went to find his son.

Barty was coaxing Severus through several tentative footsteps in the back bedroom. The man was making a slow recovery from whatever had befallen him. He was still incredibly weak even now that they were well into October.

"There's another one, now," Crouch announced as soon as he cleared the doorway.

Barty and Severus both turned to look at him with concern. "Another one?" Severus rasped.

"It will be the Dark Lord this time," Barty sighed. "We need to get out of here."

Crouch revealed the task he had set Winky to a month before. "I've been preparing a safe house for us. We can go there now if Severus is strong enough to travel."

Barty shook his head. "You should go, Father, but no safe house will keep the Dark Lord from us." He raised his left arm pointedly, and Crouch swallowed heavily. He should have realized.

"Then where will you go?"

Barty motioned to Severus, who had by now moved to sit heavily in the unoccupied chair beside the bed. "Severus says the first set of watchers are probably friends. Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix."

Crouch inhaled sharply and nodded. "It's possible, I suppose. But what if they're not?"

Barty, still holding Severus' hand, rubbed it lightly and didn't meet his father's eyes. "If they're not, and the other watcher is the Death Eaters, they're still the lesser of two evils. I think we'll have to take our chances."

Crouch grimaced and turned to leave. "I'll depart tonight. When will you…?"

"As soon as Severus can do more than take a few trembling steps," Barty said softly.

"Stay well, son," Crouch murmured. He left before he could hear Barty's response.

Hours later, the only occupants of the Crouch home were Barty and Severus.

"When are we really leaving?" Severus asked, watching Barty pack their meager belongings into a bottomless satchel.

"Now," Barty answered. He finished his packing and turned to regard the other man with a worried frown. "You should be better by now. I'm no Healer. With any luck, the Order, or whoever they are, will be able to help you."

"You are helping me," Severus whispered, holding out one hand. Barty took it readily and shuddered as their magic began to whisper and hum between them. "You know what this is?" Severus asked him.

Neither of them had spoken the words, despite the bond that had been steadily growing between them over every passing day. Their very minds were becoming connected, though it was slowed considerably by Severus' Occlumency.

Barty gulped, but didn't answer.

Severus sighed, pulling his hand away. "Let's go."

They made their way with painful slowness to the front door. Barty checked for their watchers outside and spotted the Death Eater in the alley as well as the woman knitting on the bench.

"Here goes nothing," he mumbled. They opened the door, immediately attracting the attention of both watchers. Barty already had his wand ready and shot several nasty curses at the Death Eater. The woman on the bench threw aside her rather abysmal attempt at knitting and raised her own wand.

Barty and Severus were both thankful that she aimed it at the Death Eater and not at them.

The Death Eater had blocked Barty's curses and managed to press his wand to the mark on his arm before they could incapacitate him. It was mere moments before numerous pops were heard in the near vicinity. The woman had fired off a patronus that darted off to deliver a message to her own people. Barty and Severus stumbled their way toward the bench, hoping that they would be able to get away before the Death Eaters closed in.

It was as they approached closer to the woman that they realized who she was.

"Amelia Bones," Severus gasped, falling more than sitting on the bench as the other two raised their wands to ward off a few early comers. "Can you help us?"

"That depends, Snape," Amelia growled. "What's in it for us?"

"Whatever made you watch that house for the past month and a half," he growled. "I don't know what you want, but you will have it. Please!"

She was distracted for a moment, staring at the one man she had never thought to hear that word from. Then she was pressing a small polished stone into his hand and murmuring the password to activate the portkey, "Black Academy".

With Severus gone, she grabbed Barty and repeated the process with him before apparating away.

-o-0-o-