Freedom

Freedom. noun

the state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint

exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc.

the power to determine action without restraint.

political or national independence.

personal liberty, as opposed to bondage or slavery

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter Universe. I'm just playin'

Part Two

Chapter Fourteen

Halloween Pt 2

It was dark when he opened his eyes again, the entire day had gone by while he inspected his mindscape and the containment of Voldemort's slither of soul. He'd never spent so long in meditation before, not in one sitting, and he realised quite quickly that his entire body was one giant ache from remaining still for such a long period of time. One would think that such an extended trance would at least lend him clarity and relaxation, but he should have known that neither was possible on this cursed day.

For a moment he panicked, unable to move. His body seemed locked in that same position; his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, hands clasped to keep them in place, head bent to rest his chin on his knees. Only when he tried to move did the pain set in, cramps so sudden and so fierce that he couldn't stop the sharp cry that burst from his lips. The cramp on his calf was so strong that he could literally see the muscles twinging through his robes.

Then there were hands on him, carefully pulling his legs out straight, long fingers firmly massaging the muscles. He whimpered when one of those hands manoeuvred him around gently until he was beside the tree and lying down, then they went back to work. Merlin, but he didn't realise how much a mere cramp could hurt!

It felt like hours before he was finally able to move on his own, his body now feeling like one big bruise. When he did, he sat carefully, his face reddening when he saw Snape's somewhat incredulous glare.

"Really, Harry?" One of those trim eyebrows arched upwards. "How long have you been sat there?"

Harry muttered something unintelligible.

For a while, he just lay there, looking up through the gaps in the tree to the clear sky above. He felt Snape shift and then settle down on the grass next to him, and he only just caught the groan of frustration that wanted to escape him when those talented hands stopped their magnificent work on his muscles. He had been in too much pain to appreciate the massage and for that he was thankful – the last thing he needed right now was an embarrassing reaction – but he still mourned the loss.

Now that he wasn't lost in his mindscape or curling up in agony, his thoughts inevitably returned to the current day; the Dursleys and to Azkaban.

Earlier that morning, he'd realised that he had completely abandoned Dudley after the trial, despite having promised to talk to him. Now he also realised that he didn't actually know which magical family his cousin had been placed with. He was ashamed, he'd promised Dudley that he wouldn't suffer abuse from the wizarding world, and yet hadn't Harry himself been neglecting him as surely as Petunia had neglected the baby left on her doorstep?

It was different. He knew it was. That didn't stop him from feeling guilty.

"Why did he do it?" Harry asked softly, hesitant though he was to break the comfortable silence between them.

Snape didn't have to ask what or who he was talking about.

"I don't know." He sighed, and then he leaned back next to Harry, resting on his shoulders as he followed the younger wizards gaze up to the stars. "I think it was his twisted idea of a gift. After the trial, he summoned those of us who bear his mark and who had reported on you in the past. He was … most displeased to learn about your upbringing, and more so with those of us who didn't see the truth."

"I'm sorry." Harry murmured quietly. He'd seen enough Death Eater meetings to know that meant at least one round of crucio's.

"Don't be. We should have seen. I should have seen."

Harry tensed. He really didn't want to talk about this. Still…

"I didn't want you to."

Snape must have heard the reluctance, because he let the subject drop.

"So, what, just because we both had a bad childhood, he thinks we'll be best of friends?"

Snape snorted. "I doubt it. He's not quite that insane, at least not yet."

"Did he think it would hurt me?" Harry persisted.

"No." Snape sighed and turned his head to look at Harry. "I think it was his way of … apologising? I don't know. One of his biggest goals – one that drew in the most followers – was always to protect magical children from muggles. Abuse in our world is... a rarity, the old pure-blooded families have difficulty carrying a child to term and so the thought of harming them is abhorrent – as it should be." Snape's voice had fallen to a growl at the last, and Harry shivered at the sudden heat such a guttural sound caused.

"Should I be hurt?" Harry's question was little more than a whisper.

"You have been." Snape pointed out, just as quietly. "For years, they hurt you more than enough. No one can expect you to mourn their loss."

"But I should." Harry insisted. "I should mourn them; they were my only family. If I hadn't – they wouldn't be in Azkaban in the first place. He wouldn't have seen the need to bloody apologise. I should feel bad. It's only normal. I should."

"Normal?" Harry turned his head to look back at his professor, flushed when he realised just how close they were. "What is normal? Don't you dare blame yourself for what they did to you. The sheer amount of courage it took…" he trailed off.

"I had to give them up." Harry admitted. "I had to acknowledge that no matter what I did, I would never be good enough. I… in a way, I had to make them dead to me."

"And now that they are, you feel guilty."

"Merlin knows I wished them dead enough over the years."

"Harry." Snape reached over and pushed Harry's chin up until their eyes met. "If you had cursed them, or even taken a knife to them, in revenge, then that would be different. I don't think even a saint can go through as much torture as they put you through without wishing death on them. Wishes are just wishes… I begged and prayed to every God I could think of for the death of my father often enough, but no he had to die of drunken stupidity years after it would have done me any good."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, beyond offering another apology that he was quite sure wouldn't be welcome, and so he said nothing. Instead, he marvelled at how comforting it was to have the older wizard beside him, a silent but steady support, a shoulder offered but not pushed upon him. A voice in the back of his mind, sounding remarkably like himself as an eleven year old, repeatedly stated – in innocent disbelief – that this was Severus Snape, Dungeon Bat, Person who Hates him Most in the World, half-lying on the grass beside him, with no spiteful barbs, no humiliating observations, just a quiet and kind comfort.

Harry told it to shut up.

"I'm sorry for missing our lesson." He blurted, abruptly, and flushed when Snape looked at him disbelievingly.

"I think I can let it slide this once." The Potions Master replied, dryly. Harry ducked his head, his face going even redder as Snape turned once more to regard him closely. A slight smirk twitched at his lips at Harry's embarrassment, but then it faded and the older man took on a look of concern. "You look exhausted."

"I hate Halloween."

"I know." Snape said, surprising him. "It's not just today, though. You're trying to do too much at once. You're running yourself ragged, even with your extra time."

"There's a lot to do." Harry pointed out, noncommittedly.

"You don't have to do it alone." Snape said quietly. "Learn to delegate."

"Ron, Hermione and the Goblins are helping a lot. The goblins are being amazing; they're working really hard on finishing up the sanctuaries."

"Yes, but you also have an entire Order." Snape pointed out. "They're not just there for fighting, Harry. Each and every one of them would be pleased to help in any way they can. Remus, for example, would be perfect for going over the plans and offering any suggestions on your werewolf colony."

"I didn't want to assume-"

"It was a brilliant idea, Harry, and there are many out there who would be more than willing to help. Some have been working towards something similar for years, but they didn't have your political clout. I know Remus is thrilled; he's suffered for werewolf rights for years now and I know he's spent a lot of time thinking about how things could be better."

"You're right." Harry said with a sigh. "It's stupid not to ask his opinion. I'll talk to him about it tom-"

"Shh." Snape cut him off sharply, moving so fast that Harry missed it all in a blink; one minute he was propped on his elbows lying next to Harry and the next he was on his feet, wand in hand. Harry gaped at him for a moment, surprised, but the professor stood stiffly, back straight, and glared into the Forbidden Forest.

Harry scrambled to his feet and tried to peer through the darkness of the trees, but Snape held out an arm to stop him, once again pushing Harry behind him as he had done during his third year when Remus had begun to transform.

"Someone comes."

"Should we get back to the castle?"

"No time. Stay behind me."

Harry flicked his wrist and his own wand dropped from the holster into the palm of his waiting hand. He did as he was told and stayed behind Snape, but a bit to the side so that he could see. At first, the forest seemed unnaturally still, the night eerily silent, but Harry didn't doubt Snape's instincts. It was Halloween: anything and everything that could go wrong would go wrong.

He half expected a mass of black robed, white-masked Death Eaters to emerge from the forest like in some horror film, with Voldemort himself at the head. Instead, three figures swept out from under the trees; they seemed to glide rather than walk, each of them almost ethereal. The one in the middle was a tall woman wearing a robe of a white so clear it seemed to glow in the moonlight, her face was smooth and youthful, her eyes sharp, shrewd and old. The man on her left was all in black, so much so that he almost merged into the night, his dark eyes stern and serious.

The man on the right was… Lionel, from Knockturn.

Harry straightened, wondering if this was the third part of his payment for the trunk. Snape, however, seemed to crouch slightly, as though ready to leap into the attack. His lips pulled back from his teeth in an almost feral snarl.

The three newcomers stopped a few paces away and regarded both Snape and Harry with calm curiosity. They didn't seem the least bit worried about the Potions Master's defensiveness, nor that his posture screamed stay away. Harry wondered if he should speak, perhaps pull Snape back behind him instead, but he'd never seen the vampire so clearly in his professor before, and he was unsure what to do.

"Peace, Childe." The woman spoke with obvious amusement. "We mean no harm."

Snape's stance remained rigid, but his snarl turned more towards Lionel.

"Yes, he tasted the blood of your mate, but we do not come to challenge your claim."

Finally, slowly, Snape relaxed and straightened.

"Why have you come?"

Wait. What?

Mate?

What…? How…? Remembering how furious both Snape and Remus had been about letting the vampire both drink from him and enter his mind, Harry couldn't imagine that the werewolf had followed in his stupidity. But how could he be Snape's mate? He quashed the thrill of excitement that shot through him at the mere idea of such a thing and forced it back down; this was clearly just a mistake.

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned his attention back to the visitors – the vampires standing before them. He flushed when he realised that all four sets of eyes were firmly fixed on him; clearly, he'd missed something.

"I'm sorry?" And Merlin, did he really have to squeak like that? He cleared his throat, tried desperately to stop his face from reddening, and failed miserably judging by the three smirks directed at him. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I asked if now would be a good time for our bought discussion." The lady spoke softly, her voice musical.

"Of course." Harry replied, immediately, though he'd rather it be any other day. "Will you come into the castle with us?"

The vampires looked towards Hogwarts with open disdain.

"Not this time." The woman said. "We will not keep you long on this Samhain night." Then she simply sat where she stood, folding her legs in front of her and laughing at Harry's obvious bemusement. "You and your mate looked rather comfortable. It shall suffice for now. Please, join me."

There it was again. Mate.

He wanted nothing more than to demand Snape deny the claim or explain what the hell was going on, but he had a feeling that to broach it in this company would be a bad idea. Instead, he followed the lady's example and sat, shifting back a bit to lean against the trunk of the tree. It seemed wrong, somehow, that someone so refined and aristocratic would lower themselves so far as to sit on the ground; this vampire exuded grace and charm. He'd no more expect her to muddy her robes than he would Narcissa Malfoy.

He frowned at that, because he could see someone like Molly Weasley sitting there, perhaps spread out on her blanket with her children and a picnic. Did that mean he saw Mrs. Weasley as less of a Lady? He liked Mrs. Weasley. He loved her, even. So why would he regard her as … less?

No, that wasn't right either. Looking at someone like this vampire before him, the first word that came to mind was Lady. For Molly Weasley, it was Mother. To him, mother was a lot more in every regard.

He really needed to stop his thoughts from wandering.

"How can I help you?" He asked, forcing his attention onto the visiting vampires, noting that Snape sat directly between him and Lionel.

"What makes you think we want your help?" The dark man spoke with a hint of derision and Harry regarded him coolly.

"If you wanted nothing from me, you would not be here."

"We come as a courtesy to our friend." The woman interjected, nodding towards Lionel. "We have almost completed our negotiations with Lord Voldemort, and we are… pleased with how things are developing. However, it has been said that you are different. We have seen your work for the wolves, and some in our coven are curious to see what you would do to earn our alliance, or at the very least, our continued neutrality."

"I thought Professor Snape was your liaison to Voldemort?"

"He is Lord Voldemort's contact to us." The woman agreed. "However, he is unable to negotiate in our place. He is-"

"Merely a messenger boy." The dark man finished with a wide smirk.

"-too young." The woman continued with a frown at her companion. "Any agreements must be made between we three here."

So, these were the leaders of the coven, then. Harry sat back and found himself really wishing that he had done more research into the vampire race. He'd always assumed that he'd have more time.

"You ask what I can offer." Harry spoke slowly, carefully. "I ask what it is you, your coven – your race – needs. I must confess myself mostly ignorant to your customs and to your wants – an ignorance that will, I promise, be rectified as soon as possible – but please don't take my lack of knowledge as a lack of respect. There is still a great deal I need to learn. I swear on my magic that when next we meet I will not be so uninformed."

At that, his magic made his vow binding, swirling not just around himself, but around his guests too. He watched as they exchanged meaningful glances, but he found himself unable to read them.

"You are different." The dark man conceded.

"I am sure your mate will aid in your vow," the woman said, shooting a rather stern look at Snape, who met her gaze steadily "but for now, then, I will list what is needed for my people. You will not know, I think, that vampires are being bound by laws that grow more and more restricting. We are unable to feed from a witch or wizard, even when that person is fully willing, and so must take sustenance amongst animals or muggles. To do otherwise is to act against the laws of your Ministry."

"We need the magic in the blood to live." Lionel explained quietly. "Muggle blood will sustain us, but without the magic, our minds deteriorate over time until we are little more than savage beasts. We are also, of course, breaking the Statute of Secrecy when we feed from muggles unless we kill them and any witnesses – which of course contradicts who knows how many laws. Because of this, our people are suffering, those who obey are reduced to ravenous monsters fuelling the muggle myth of Vampires, and those that don't are hunted down and killed by your Ministry."

"That is ridiculous!" Harry was horrified, and at the minute was unable to hide it. He didn't even realise that he had leapt to his feet and was pacing in his agitation. "I don't understand how the Ministry can be so- they must know-"

Then he was stumbling back, because the woman had stood and was reaching to… what? … maybe just touch his arm to get his attention? Snape, however, refused to let her anywhere near him and he'd moved so quickly he was little more than a blur before he seemed to just solidify between them again. The woman held up her empty hands and stepped back, the universal gesture for peace.

"For Merlin's sake." Harry's exasperation was clear. "Professor, if they wanted to hurt me, I'm pretty damn sure they could. Would you please calm down?"

"It is not his fault." Lionel spoke softly; he too now on his feet, but a good distance away. "The mating call will allow no threat to you, and he must answer it."

"Perhaps we should return another time." The dark man said, eyeing Snape carefully.

"Yes, I think that best." The woman sighed, now letting her hands fall to her side. "I do, however, think that we should continue this, and soon."

"I agree."

"As do I."

"Good." The woman nodded to her two companions and looked back at Harry. "Would you be willing to meet again, Lord Potter?"

"I will." Harry said, and then, unable to stop himself. "I also swear that I will do everything in my power to remove those ridiculous genocidal laws, no matter what decision you and yours make. So I swear it. So mote it be."

Now it was Snape's turn to look at him with exasperation. The three vampire guests, however, looked absolutely stunned.

"You would make such a vow and ask nothing in return?" The woman sounded as astonished as she looked.

Harry frowned at her. "If what you have told me is true – and I do not doubt it – then it is a wrong that must be righted, and as soon as possible. You are a people. You think. You feel. You need to eat. That the Ministry has adopted such laws to prevent your continued existence… no, it is not right."

"And if we choose to ally ourselves with Voldemort?" Lionel asked, his eyes holding a strangely satisfied gleam.

Harry shrugged. "It is still wrong. Hopefully, should he win this war then Voldemort will keep his word. Should he lose? Well, I refuse to condemn a whole people for the mistakes of a few. No, as long as I live, I will do what is needed for the continuity of all magical peoples."

"We will return soon." The woman promised, giving him a small smile. "We thank you for your audience, Lord Potter."

And then she bowed.

"Er-" Harry's flush deepened when not just her two companions, but Snape as well, turned to him and bowed. "Please don't do that!"

"It is respect earned." Lionel countered. He didn't bother to hide his amusement at Harry's obvious embarrassment. "We will meet again."

"Wait!" Harry barely got the word out in time as all three vampires had turned and was already halfway back to the Forbidden Forest. He cleared his throat when they turned, as one, to look at him. "Might I know your names?"

"I am Julian." The dark man said.

"I am Auraya." Answered the woman.

Then they were gone.