Cycle of Debt

On the way to Dumbledore's office Harry wondered how much trouble he was in. He could think of several rules he'd broken, none of which he could explain in any way Dumbledore would approve of.

To begin with he was out after curfew. The Headmaster had overlooked that before, but only when Harry had the excuse of Occlumency, or battling Voldemort. Harry wasn't supposed to be learning anything with Snape at all outside of the scheduled Occlumency sessions and Voldemort hadn't attacked, so Harry had no legitimate excuse.

Secondly he had acted recklessly, had broken into a Professor's private room. One could possibly say he'd endangered his Professor's life.

Lastly, there was the possibility that Dumbledore would find out about his illicit lessons, and there was no way he could excuse himself of that charge. All in all, Harry thought he'd be lucky if he managed to get off with only a month's worth of detention. He morosely followed the Snape, the Healer, and the stranger a few paces behind giving half an ear to their conversation.

"- an injection of Plenirserum," the Healer was explaining, "but that wasn't enough. You were still in critical condition. So I had to give you a Jolt. This fellow was singularly unhelpful, so I used the boy."

"I say now," protested Igor, "you hadn't explained at all what you were doing! How was I supposed to-"

"Do shut it," snapped the Healer. "Jolt of level five did it."

"Level five?" repeated Snape. "Are you mad? We've never tested that conclusively on a human donor!"

"Well, there wasn't exactly a generator or a wall socket in sight, was there?" said the Healer. "You insist on living in a bloody medieval castle!"

"Mordred," said Igor suddenly.

"Beg pardon," said the Healer, "but that was quite a non sequitur."

"Your brother Mordred," Igor repeated. "I'd always thought your parents had made him up to justify not instating you as heir since they didn't want to disinherit you outright, or to …"

Harry Potter used his head for the first time that day and cast a Privacy Bubble about the four of them. Snape shot him his usual cool calculating look before giving a curt nod, and returning his attention to his cousin.

"Mordred existed, yes," answered Snape heavily. "A Squib, though they would never admit as much. I helped him escape from the Manor early on, and he disappeared into the Muggle World."

"Which would explain why your nephew is…" started Igor.

"Perfectly normal," finished the Healer.

"Muggle," supplied Snape.

"Ah," said Igor. "We're even then. I had a niece I didn't tell you about, and you have a nephew…"

"I knew there was a reason our family didn't have grand reunions," drawled the Healer, "but Uncle Russ is still ahead of you. I've a brother."

"Damnit, Severus," cried Igor in exasperation. "Two?"

"Well it's not my fault," returned Snape. "I'd tell you to take it up with Mordred, but he's passed on."

"I'm sorry," murmured Harry quietly.

The three turned back giving him odd looks before returning to their conversation. Harry shrugged and concentrated on keeping the Bubble moving with them.

"He's your cousin I presume," said the Healer. "Which would make him my…"

"First cousin, once removed" answered Snape. "You really ought to have been introduced earlier. Mr. Hubert Snape, meet Mr. Igor Karkaroff."

"Charmed," the two said together, obviously not charmed at all.

"Igor Karkaroff?" repeated Harry. "But he's dead."

Again the party stopped, and whirled to look at Harry with identical condescending expressions.

"Well," said Igor airily, looking at his fingernails, "if you believe everything the Dark Lord tells you…"

"Ah," said Harry. "You've changed."

"Glamour," said Snape and Igor together.

"I see," said Harry.

The party continued on its way.

Igor abruptly began to snicker. The others looked askance at him. "Hubert?" he finally choked out between his laughter. "What sort of a name is-"

"Damnit," Hubert snarled. "If your mother's name was Genevieve, and your father's name was Mordred, you'd have an immensely stupid name, too."

"It's not immensely stupid," protested Snape, "it's traditional. There have been a great many heroic Huberts."

"At least I've a better name than my brother," huffed Hubert. "He's got Humbert."

"Your parents had some preoccupation with Teutonic names," mused Igor. "That mean bright."

"Bright in the sense of intelligent, or in the sense of color?" asked Harry.

Hubert gestured towards his hair. "What's it look like?" he snapped.

Snape grinned nastily. "It's better than having a perfectly ordinary boring name like Harry Potter."

"Is that his name, then?" asked Hubert. "He didn't say."

Harry blinked. "Yes, that's my name."

He'd wondered when the eventual babbling and gawking at recognition would happen. It didn't.

"Charmed," said Hubert again. "As I was saying before we brought up family history, you've received a level 5 Jolt from Harry over here."

Snape abruptly swore violently under his breath, in what sounded like very old English or possibly even Anglo-Saxon.

The party stopped dead again. "What the devil?" asked Igor. "You've just had your life saved, what's wrong?"

"Just that," snapped Snape. "Life debt. Damn him, he's repaid my Life Debt to his father! Stupid boy!"

Harry took a step backwards as Snape rounded on him.

"Do you realize what you've done?" shouted Snape. "You've caused a cycle! I've had to save you over and over, but that's not enough for you! You have to place me in your debtas well! You've just caused an endless cycle of debt for the both of us!"

Harry gulped.

"Eh… what?" asked Hubert.

"Bloody Hell," sighed Igor. "You've done it this time, Potter."

"What?" protested Harry weakly. "I just… I mean, I… er…"

"Calm down, Uncle Russ," soothed Hubert. "It'll be perfectly all right. You're bound to be a bit distraught after everything that's happened. Let's just get where we're going, and then we can have a nice relaxing cup of tea…"

"Potter, Snape had a life debt to your father," explained Igor, "which was never repaid and so was passed down to you. Life debts passed down cannot be repaid, but are continuous. Professor Snape must continue to save your life at every opportunity presented to him while you are under no obligation to repay him, since he is repaying his debt. The obligation is now mutual."

"Mutual?" repeated Harry. "You mean that…"

"You are required to protect me, as I am required to protect you," said Snape.

"That doesn't make any sense!" protested Harry. "You owed my father a life debt. You've repaid him by saving me. Now I've saved you. You therefore owe me."

"Mr. Potter," snapped Snape. "It doesn't make sense- it's Magic. Spells are fixed and unrelenting. Magic has no understanding, no brain, and no sense of circumstance. It simply is. While some can be worked to accept changed circumstances, most are immovable. Weather your target moves out of the way or not, your Spell still moves where you aimed it in the first place.

"I owed your father," Snape continued. "It is impossible for me to repay your father. Your father is dead. However, the Magic does not understand this. It crackles on, unaware, fixing itself to the nearest thing to James it can find, namely you.

"I am therefore compelled to rescue you by any means in my power from whatever danger you thrust your Gryffindor neck into. But no matter how much I do so, the Magic is unsatisfied- it knows I have not repaid James, but repaid the closest substitute of James.

"Your saving me warps the Magic from its path. You returned to me a life saved, the same service I repaid James. The Magic recognizes the debt as foreclosed. James gave and I repaid."

"I still don't understand," protested Harry. "If my father gave, and you repaid isn't that over? You don't owe James anymore, you owe me."

Snape shook his head. "Magic doesn't understand. It realizes that the item James gave me, was returned to your care, and then back to me. It doesn't understand that a life saved is not a thing. It realizes that I paid more than once, to your care. It realizes that you still have what I gave you, and that James did not receive that."

Harry blinked. "I don't understand."

"Think of it as a computer program," said Hubert unhelpfully. "When it gets into a loop and eventually crashes…"

Harry scratched his head. He didn't understand either Magic or computers. "You're saying, that in effect, you've been … paying James all this time, to my name, but … ah… er… the Magic won't recognize that James received it unless I give it back?"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's precisely what I mean. It may not make sense to a Gringotts Goblin, but as far as the Magic is concerned, you are a substitute for James. Acting on his behalf, you returned my payment, acknowledging the debt as null and void."

"If it's null and void, then how can I possibly owe you?" protested Harry.

"The debt to James is null and void," explained Snape. "Since you gave it back effectively indicating that the debt was cancelled. That James didn't want it back. However, the Magic realizes that I gave to you multiple times, and only one was owed to James. The others, which it had hitherto discounted as a futile effort to repay James, now count against you. You now owe me for several past events in which I saved your life. And I now owe you for this time that you saved my life.

Harry looked quite desperate by this time. "Why does it accept that I cancelled your debt, when it can't accept that I've accepted your repayment?"

"I don't know!" roared Snape. "Nobody knows! The Life Debt Cycle is a rare event, but nevertheless, Nicholas Flammel studied it for over two centuries trying to find out why it worked the way it did, and he failed. I haven't got two centuries. I don't know why the Magic accepts one transaction and not the other. Nobody understands!

"The only explanation I can give you is that we are trapped in a cosmic joke. A paradox. A Magical accident. You owe me a life. Every time you repay that life, I shall owe you a life for that life you pay me. It's an endless cycle. It can't be understood, much less stopped."

Harry took a deep breath, tried to understand, and failed miserably. "We will be obligated to protect each other?"

His eyes bored into Harry's, unreadable and icy.

"I'll do my best," said Harry. "I'm… sorry."

Snape gave a curt nod. "Not a word to a soul."

Harry nodded in return. "Of course, sir."

"Onwards," said Igor lightly. "Time for the intricate art of verbal misdirection."

"It's not as though we need explain anything," said Hubert. "After all, I've my oath of Healer Patient Confidentiality. Or I would if I were a doctor at all…"

"You're not?" asked Harry blankly. "Then what-"

Again, the group stopped to face him. He gulped.

"I'm a perfectly normal human being," supplied Hubert. "What you'd call, I believe, a Muggle. Though I may not be able to produce that Energy you'd call Magic myself, I am perfectly capable of using machines and so on that manipulate it.

"I have studied engineering and physics extensively, along with the physics of your Magic which Uncle Russ taught me. I believe he calls that Metaphysics and explained that in your world it's a legitimate field of study, while in ours we associate it with ridiculousness like Palm Readings and such.

"A combination thereof allows me to manipulate both sources of Energy. That, with a bit of basic medical training, allows me to quite well care for those medical emergencies of my Uncle's which he does not treat himself."

Igor nodded with the air of one who does not quite understand, but is to proud to ask.

"So Magic is related to Electricity?" asked Harry. "It certainly seemed like what you used a moment ago. Normally electricity goes berserk at Hogwarts…"

"Magic, as you call it, is a peculiar sort of Energy," explained Hubert, glad to be on his favorite subject. "I'm not sure what one would call it scientifically, since one can't isolate it, but it behaves partially like electricity, sometimes like magnetism, sometimes even like nuclear forces. I'm working on a complete classification system of different types, their effects, and how to work with them in a technical fashion for those who can't manipulate them naturally."

Harry blinked, trying to keep up with the swift paces of the others. "In other words, you're trying to make Muggle technology usable by Wizards and Magic usable by Muggles."

"Precisely," answered Hubert. "You see, I've seen a bit of both worlds, and it seems a crying shame that they're separate. If we'd just worked together centuries ago we'd have a common body of knowledge and would probably have worked out some symbiotic relationship before now. If they could use our technology and we could use their Magic, it would eliminate a great deal of the prejudices abounding in your world."

"It isn't just our world with prejudice," protested Igor. "Muggles are just as likely to-"

"Yes, but not against Wizards," returned Hubert. "One can't be prejudiced against something one doesn't know exists, and you do hide fairly well. Those things that we do notice, we either simply classify as unexplainable phenomena, or explain it in terms of our own realm of possibilities.

"You, on the other hand, know about Muggles, but refuse to examine them, their works, or their way of life, completely blind to their abilities on account of their disability to use your Energy.

"It may have made sense to hide during the Dark Ages, when you were known to a certain extent and hunted. But even then you could have taken a stand and proved to them that Magical ability has nothing to do with morality, or even that half the people they were convicting had no Magical ability.

"Now, even though mankind is mostly civilized and above petty superstition, you refuse to acknowledge this and hide under the assumption that if we did know about you, we'd either exterminate or exploit the lot of you. I don't quite follow that school of thought, considering that even though we are the majority, you have more than enough Power to eliminate us, or wash our memories of you. If we tried any less than peaceful action against your world, you'd exterminate us."

"Please, Hubert," said Snape. "Spare us your political theory for the moment."

"But Uncle Russ!" protested Hubert. "They need to be told-"

"I agree with you," said Harry abruptly, "but Professor Snape is right. We can't waste time discussing this now. Albus is going to want an explanation, and I'm sure none of you want to discuss family history with him over sweets."

Igor grimaced. "He mustn't know I'm alive," he said. "Nobody was supposed to know I was alive."

"Too late now," Hubert pointed out.

"He knows I have nephews," Snape thought aloud. "He doesn't know who or where they are. I think I can pass you off as … a distant relation."

"Who just so happened to be visiting Hogwarts at this time?" protested Igor. "It'll never work. It's too much of a coincidence."

"If you don't mind my saying so," said Harry. "You can say he's a contact for you, with some information. An informant from… Transylvania"

"I don't look remotely Transylvanian," said Igor. "He'll never believe that."

"But he'd believe that you would pretend to be Transylvanian" explained Potter. "You see, the less you explain, the more believable you are. If you explain for half an hour that you're related in some convoluted fashion to hide the simple truth, he'll think you've made it up. But, if you give him a short story, with little detail, he'll have less reason to suspect you, or at least, he'll believe he knows what parts are fact and what parts fiction."

Snape coughed. "One would think you made lying to the Headmaster a hobby, Potter."

Harry shrugged. "Lies of omission, I suppose. Which is precisely the way he deals with me. I give as good as I get."

"Much as I hate to say it," said Igor, "Mr. Potter has a point."

Snape groaned. "Let me do the talking. Unless directly addressed, the lot of you had better keep your mouths shut."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor Snape."

Igor sighed. "You always were better at misdirection than I was."

Hubert shrugged. "I can always use so much technical jargon that I confuse him to pieces," he said. "I'm an expert at making people's eyes glaze over."

"If you'd be so good as to break the Privacy Bubble, Mr. Potter," said Snape. "It would not do for him to think we had more to hide than we do."

Harry cancelled the Charm with a barely audible sigh of relief. It had been hard to maintain considering how tired and drained he was to begin with.

They had at last reached the gargoyle. Snape glared distastefully at it. "Sugar Quill."

The gargoyle jumped out of the way, the door opened, and the four entered the staircase that slowly began to screw upwards.

"Like an escalator," mused Hubert, "but not as smooth."

Snape shot him a glare, at which his nephew looked sufficiently contrite.

The staircase ground to a halt and they crowded onto the landing. Dumbledore's door opened of its own accord.

Dumbledore smiled like the Mona Lisa and beckoned to them. "Have a seat," he said. "Ogden's Old, anybody?"

Igor nodded. Dumbledore poured him a shot, as they sank into the chairs indicated.

Fawkes gave a shriek, then attacked Hubert who gave an exasperated cry and tried to shield his head.

"Fawkes," admonished Dumbledore, filling his own glass, "You are not to attack my guests!"

Fawkes gave a distressed squawk and flew sulkily back to his perch, not taking his eyes off Hubert.

Hubert sighed. "Is that what I think it is?"

"A Phoenix," said Albus. "I don't understand his reaction to you. He's never attacked anybody to have helped those loyal to me."

"He does, however, attack Muggles," said Snape.

"A Muggle who can see Hogwarts?" asked Dumbledore. "Fancy that."

"I've cast an Exemptionis Familiaris on him," explained Snape. "He can see Magic, Hogwarts, Dementors, and just about everything else in our world. But that's not what you called us up to discuss."

"No, no," said Dumbledore. "I'm just concerned about your health, my boy."

"His blood balance was off and reacted badly with a potion," said Hubert. "His balance has been restored with an injection of Plenirserum, and his energies had been significantly weakened by his exposure to certain substances in the Antidote which he had taken, so I gave a Energy Transfusion, Jolt level five, the donor being Potter. Their energies were compatible, being Type 2b."

Dumbledore blinked. "I see."

"So, with a little rest, he ought to be back to normal in a few days," finished Hubert. "He mustn't overexert himself."

Albus nodded. "And Mr. Potter, whatever were you doing out and about so late?"

Harry blinked. "I couldn't sleep. It's rather stuffy in the dormitories, so I went for a walk to get some air. On the way I met this man…" he trailed off, indicating Igor with a nod of his head.

Snape took over at this juncture, shooting a glare towards his nephew. "He's a contact of mine. We were supposed to meet tonight, but given my … accident, I hadn't met him on time."

"Well, it all worked out excellently, didn't it?" said Dumbledore happily. "Though I do wish you'd reconsider your medical arrangements, Severus. You nearly died."

"He did nothing of the kind," protested Hubert. "He quite nearly lost his sense of balance and put his circulatory system in a great deal of danger. He'll be quite all right, as I said, with some rest."

Igor said nothing, quietly knocking back his drink.

"If you don't mind, Headmaster," said Snape, "in spite of the outcome of his nightly stroll, Mr. Potter is still breaking quite a few school rules…"

"Fifteen points, Mr. Potter," said Albus quickly, lest Snape take more than that. "I'm disappointed in you."

Harry looked at his hands. "I'm sorry, sir."

"I had better be getting back home," said Hubert, rising. "I've probably been missed already."

"Thank you again, Healer Hubert," said Snape, rising as well. "I'm sure the Headmaster would not object to your using the Floo."

Albus gave a wave of his hand towards the fireplace.

"I'll see you over Christmas of course, Mr. Snape," said Hubert, taking a handful of the green powder. "Good bye."

The roar of the flames muffled the Healer's destination as he disappeared.

Snape and Igor exchanged glances.

Albus, noticing the tension, but misreading it, said, "You two probably have much to talk about. You had better get on with it, if there is nothing else you would like to tell me."

Snape shook his head curtly. "Good night, Albus."

Snape turned on his heel, robes billowing. Igor followed silently, as his cousin swept from the office.

Harry took a deep breath before looking up. Albus was giving him a grandfatherly smile.

"Is there nothing else you would like to tell me, my boy?" he asked.

Harry thought a moment. "Actually," he said, "I have a question."

Albus nodded.

"How did you know the Professor was ill and where we were?"

Dumbledore spread his hands. "Hogwarts has many secrets."

Harry shrugged. "I was just wondering if you had something like the Map, or if it was something else. Portraits, perhaps, but he hasn't one in his room…"

Dumbledore merely smiled. "Thirty points to Gryffindor."

Harry started. "Whatever for?"

"You've saved Professor Snape's life," said Albus quietly. "And Professor Snape's life is worth far more to me than rules about Curfew."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry. "May I go, now?"

Albus sipped at his drink. "You did say you couldn't sleep and there is something I've wanted to discuss with you for some time. Now's a good a time as any."

Harry nodded warily.

"You see, my boy," said the Headmaster, "we've been discussing the security measures in place for you."

Harry blinked at him and said nothing.

"I mean to say, we've been considering lifting the restraints on your movements," Albus continued. "It's not at all healthy to keep you cooped up in the castle, you know."

"Are you sure, sir?" asked Harry eagerly. "You said it wasn't safe…"

The Headmaster spread his hands. "Nothing is ever completely safe. I do not, however, wish you to roam the Grounds unprepared."

Harry nodded, waiting for the catch.

"You are a target for Voldemort," said the Headmaster. "You could be attacked at any time. You need to learn more Defense than the other students here."

"You want me to take extra lessons?" asked Harry.

"I am giving you a choice," said Albus. "Either things remain as they are and we must keep you within the castle for your own safety, or you must agree to take extra Defense Lessons with Professor Snape."

Harry blinked. "I already have extra lessons with Professor Snape for Occlumency," he said. "I wouldn't wish to take more of his time. Wouldn't Professor Argain normally teach his own subject?"

Albus shook his head. "Professor Argain may be our current Defense Professor," he said. "However, he is not the best to teach you the finer points of Wand to Wand Combat."

Potter frowned pretending to consider it. He was already taking extra lessons with Professor Snape, making them official couldn't hurt. "Has the Professor agreed, yet?"

"I have not yet discussed this with him," replied the Headmaster. "I will not discuss the possibility with him unless you are willing to take the lessons. If not, well, we will continue as we have been."

Harry grimaced. How dare the Headmaster bribe him with freedoms that were granted every other student, including several who were probably itching to kill him? He gritted his teeth, resolved to act as though he weren't happy with the arrangement.

"I'll do it," he grated out.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "I'm sure the Professor will inform you when and where you need to be. Mind you, it is far to late in the year to replace Gryffindor's Seeker…"

"And Quidditch is too dangerous for one in my position," finished Harry. "What if Professor Snape refuses to teach me?"

Albus smiled enigmatically. "Oh, I'm sure he'll agree," he said.

"Can I go now?" asked Harry, anxious to leave, afraid of giving something away.

The Headmaster smiled. "Good night, my boy."

Harry nodded, and left.

Albus leant back in his chair and chuckled to himself. "It will work out perfectly," he said to himself. "The more time Severus spends here, the less he can become involved with the Death Eaters. We do need information, but I can't afford to lose him and I'm afraid if he gets much closer to Voldemort he'll be found out. Not to mention the threat of Poisoning by Lucius Malfoy…"

Fawkes gave a trill.

"Of course, I'll have to monitor the lessons," Albus said to himself. "We can't have Harry learning Dark Magic. Just the Defense he needs."

Fawkes preened.

"And it's good to know that his Healer does know what he's doing," Albus continued. "Very good."

XXX

Harry descended the staircase as it screwed its way back down and tumbled out the door, just in time to see Snape and Igor disappear around the corner at the end of the hall. He followed quickly figuring that they couldn't complain since he needed to follow the same route for a while to get to Gryffindor tower.

"… meddling old man," Snape was saying as they turned the corner. "Remind me to tell my nephew that the next time I say 'let me do the talking' then I shall do the talking."

"He did all right," said Igor. "Dumbledore didn't question anything he said…"

"Probably filed it away to look up later," groused Snape. "I wouldn't put it past him to have an Audari Charm recording every word said in his office."

Harry caught up with them, joining them on staircase six a split second before it began to move.

"Mr. Potter," said Snape dangerously. "It is far to late for you to be skulking about."

Harry nodded. "I'm on my way back to the tower," he said. "And I'm sorry about earlier."

Snape sighed. "I suppose I cannot blame you," he said. "Damnation, though. What is it about the Potter family that causes them to recklessly save my life?"

Harry shrugged. "We can make up the lesson later," he said. "I just wanted you to know that Dumbledore is going to try and make you give me extra Defense lessons so that he can let me out of the castle again."

Snape shook his head. "Even when he takes my advice he works behind my back. Very well, Potter. Don't look too put out when you hear I've accepted."

Harry nodded and nearly fell flat on his face when the staircase slammed into the landing. "Good night, Professor," he said, righting himself with aid of the banister. "And thank you."

"Good night," said Snape curtly, sweeping off in the opposite direction. Igor stared after Harry for a moment, a frown on his face, before following his cousin.