Hello again. *Severus mutters and sits down indignantly* Yes well. *happy smile* after a bit of... persuasion, on my part, I and Severus come to you with the final part of this chapter in Snape's, Harry's, Remus' and everyone else's post-Voldemort lives. Should you require to learn more, tell me as much, and what you would -like- to learn... *glare from Snape* heh.
As for my reviewers, please go to the following author's owl, to find replies to your messages. If I have forgotten anyone, please feel free to holler. At him. *points to a Snape with curled upper lip* heh.
I have to thank you for reviewing here, though. I absolutely love you. But now, I want more! heh. If I manage to reach 80 reviews, I will post another story within the week. Is that a good deal? No? Oh well. But thanks all the same :)
WARNING: This chapter has a heavy dose of the surreal. Enter at your own risk.
Now on with the story.
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At least, it doesn't feel like Crucio. It is a feeling of careening into empty space, with no reference of high or low, left or right, up or down. Just a continual pivoting sensation that someone is spinning me around and around until I feel like disposing of every meal I have ever had since infancy.
After a while, I get used to it. My stomach stops being bothered, and since I can't see anything but pitch darkness around, I start to wonder that perhaps I botched the potion, or Minerva botched the charm, or both. Which is not entirely the best thing one can think of so that one's composure may be kept. I feel the wave of panic swelling in me, threatening to surface and overwhelm me.
Mercifully, just before I start to virtually scream my head off in terror, I hit some kind of ground. Hard and unceremonially. Looking around when I dare to lift my head, there are flashes, there is lightning and a multitide of surreal colours. There is pain all around, agony and suffering, somehow stored up in this place that we have followed Potter to.
Slowly, the surroundings materialize more. It would resemble a meadow of purplish-dark blue ground with little blades of grass that disappear in puffs when one steps on them, as if they are made of smoke. From the sky, if one can call it that, one can see thin wispy ropes dangling high, out of reach, evasive and silvery-looking. I am shocked to see that one such silvery rope starts from my heart and shoots upwards towards the dome. I do not dare allow myself realise the significance of the thin, silvery rope, and what it connects me to. I am scared enough as it is. Around my wrist is a golden round rope-thing of the same quality as the one that binds my heart. I instantly know exactly what it is. James Potter's wizard's bond. There is also another that is far thicker and quicksilverish-- Albus'. Somehow their presence there on my wrist aids me instead of hindering me. I cherish these bonds. I would never want them gone.
Finally my attention is drawn fully towards the lightning, flames and thunder by a high pitched scream as well as an eerie malevolent aggressive wail. I run towards there and suddenly materialise, as if I went through an invisible wall, Potter, and the entity that had been plaguing him for the past days.
I have a sickening sense of deja vu...
Potter's projection in this place, plane, dimension, whatever it is we are in, is glowing with a warm golden aura, and the thin rope connecting his heart with the surreal sky-like dome and beyond is glowing gold. He looks beat up, weary and thin and in the same time powerful and unbeatable, just like in the last stand off I had witnessed between him and an agent of evil.
His adversary is a blurry haphazard, slightly human-like form that is thrashing, trying to reach the boy's soul. Dark, crimson like glowing orbs somewhere in the head area of the creature -- its eyes-- remind me...
"Voldemort?" I hear my voice carry over in this place without any effort.
I am certain that both heard me-- Potter flinched in surprise and relief but did not turn his gaze to me. Good. It would be very ironic to have come this far only for Potter to make an error in tactics. The nebulous humanlike creature does not take me into account. It spits and hisses and says words in random-- some english, some egyptian, some gaelic, some sanscrit.
The creature is ancient. Just like the spell it continually tries to cast on Harry. But the golden shield around the lanky Gryffindor is not waning. Lupin did a good job teaching the Astral shielding charm. Livid, the creature circles and tries to engulf Harry and his shield and tighten around him like a boa constrictor. At least that is the idea that I gather from the sight and all I am feeling.
"Severus, we are standing here while that- that creature will devour Harry!"
Lupin. Where did he come from? He wasn't standing near me, fretting and fidgeting a few moments ago.
"Well what do you suppose we do? Have you noticed that we have no wands?" I reply to him, a bit scathingly I have to admit. He bites his lips, circling around the mass of creature-golden shield and Harry in the middle, trying to understand. Offhandedly I notice that he too has his heart connected just like I and Potter do.
I already hate this place.
As an answer to my question, we both hear Harry's voice, loud and strong:
"Substantia Dissolva!"
I know I am staring in surprise, and I bet that Lupin is as well. Harry Potter is using his own arm and hand and fingers as a wand, and the spell erupts from the boys' oustretched fingers towards the nebulous mass surrounding him.
The creature sees it and moves lightning quick, unwrapping itself from Potter's shield and dodging the crimson lightning. It wails and screeches, and I see that some of its nebulous substance has been blown away. Its screeching becomes louder, and Harry staggers.
"What is happening?" I hear Lupin try to yell over the racket.
The creature screetches even more, and Harry presses his hands to his ears, crying and moaning, sinking slowly to his knees. I am not entirely certain what it is it is doing, but I am not going to allow it. I start running towards the boy and the creature, and Lupin mimics me. It is odd and frustrating, but we never seem to manage to gain one inch more in proximity, as if we are running on a conveyor belt of a muggle airport. Harry is shivering, and his shield is dwindling, the rope connecting his heart losing in brilliance, and the creature is coming closer and closer, relishing in the boy's sorrow and dispair and agony.
And suddenly, I realise that in this place, it is not physical proximity that counts. I realise that although my perception still translates everything in terms of bodies and distances, in reality our bodies have been left behind-- and that is exactly what the wispy thin line connects my heart to. I stop trying to get close to Harry. I start trying to figure out how to help him in his struggle-- in a struggle he is clearly losing at the moment.
The boy is curled up in the fetal position and is crying, as the screetching never ceaces. The wails and moans the creature emit chill even my soul. I can only imagine what effect it has to Harry, who is the creature's target.
"Severus, positivism! We have to channel positivism to Harry, to strengthen him!" Lupin says in an agitated, hurried voice. The werewolf is correct, I can feel as much. But me, positive? A more preposterous idea cannot exist. I have long since forgotten how to be positive, how to let my heart be warmed, let alone how to warm it on my own. How am I supposed to be able to warm someone else's now?
I watch as Lupin takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, opening his arms in a wide embrace, palms ouwards, towards Harry. His hands glow with a light orange tint and grows and grows around him. I watch as the silver thread connecting him to his body becomes slowly orange gold, much like Harry Potter's is. It is not long before Lupin is glowing with a warm feeling I know I have experience of, but somehow I cannot put a name to at the moment.
He opens his eyes, and the dark entity turns to look at him for a second before the wave of energy rushes around Harry like a protective cloak, and the boy stops moaning, taking breaths. Harry opens his eyes and holds the gaze from the crimson eyes of the Dark creature with new courage.
The creature is mad with rage. And it turns towards Remus, spinning him like a tornado before he had a chance to protect himself. Harry screams at the sight, a scream of rage and guilt, but does not dare cast Diessolva now for fear of the spell hitting Lupin along with the creature.
What shall I do? How can I be positive? Merlin help me... Albus... anyone!
Think about what you felt for Lily... what she felt for Harry...
Unthinkingly, I grasp my wrist where the two wizard's bond's are, and I think of Lily. How she was kind, how she was firm in her decisions, how she was willing to give everyone a chance....
... how she did not loathe me.
I know what it is that Lupin banked on. I know what it is because I experienced it in my life and I can appreciate its rarity and value. I felt it for Lily. She felt it for Harry. Albus felt it for me.
"Think about everyone that has ever loved you, Harry-- call upon their love, and you'll be strong!"
It is ironic-- even downright funny that I, Professor Severus Snape, former spy and Death Eater, all around icy, unfeeling bastard, to be saying such a thing. It really is. Out of nowhere, I feel mirth, but that too, is highly positive. Harry watches me, surprised.
My hands are glowing with the white light of a ferocious fire. My thread becomes bright white-golden, and I feel strong. I mimic Lupin's gesture, and send all my love at the creature with a vengeance. For Lily, who never was to be my lover or my wife, but she accepted me the way I was. For Harry who can never be my physical son, but can accept me as part of his life and family. For Lupin even, who chose to befriend him after I had betrayed and belittled him. For James, who made Harry and thus gave me a chance at absolution. And primarily for Albus, who gave me a chance to be reborn.
The creature screetches again but it is feeble, resembling scared, ratty squeaks, as it tries to avoid the glowing mantle of positivism I circle it with. Harry mimics me, and proceeds to support me as I support Lupin who straightens up and with renewed strength attacks the creature. Together, we create a unit that is not vulnerable. The creature distances itself further away from us, making feeble attempts to breach through me and Lupin and so get to Harry.
"Now is the time, Harry," Remus says to the dark-haired continuation of the only woman that ever reached me. Harry says in a strong voice
"Substantia Dissolva!", and this time the beam of crimson hits the creature, which screeches, but throws a shield. Harry is forced to upkeep the spell, which would normally drain him, but now Remus and I are supporting him, and he is strong.
For a while, there is a stand-off, a wavering of powers, between Harry Potter and that mysterious creature. Then it speaks, in all our minds.
You think you can defeat me. They all do, but I always prevail, and I remember those who oppose me and the receptacles I choose. So I shall remember you, Harry Potter who killed my last receptacle, and you, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin, who helped him do it. I shall conquer in the end!
Then Harry replies, disregarding my order not to talk to it.
"Good has existed before you, and will survive you. There is no way you can win!"
What he says enrages the creature of course, but it also makes him lose some concentration. The creature is given one last chance to escape the terrible dissolving curse, and lightning quick it dodges and flies upwards towards the dome.
But Harry Potter is the best Seeker Gryffindor has ever had in centuries. He bellows the curse again and aims, and this time the creature is hit full force without a shield, and it is split with a horrible shudder of all the surroundings in one large and several smaller nebulous parts. Apparently Potter was not accurate enough after all, because the large part of the creature careens towards on a wispy, golden thread with intelligence that implies that it was wounded badly, but not completely destroyed.
The wispy, golden thread is severed as the wounded creature passes through it, then grabs onto one of the silvery ropes higher up on the dome and disappears. Harry gasps, falling back as if someone let go of pulling him, and loses his colour. Literally. The boy becomes white, gray and silver, as befits a ghost. Remus screams in dispair that he can't die, and he grabs at Harry as he starts floating away, the gravity of this surreal place not affecting him anymore.
"Hold him -here-, Remus!" I hear myself yell as I think of a levitation spell and cast it. I too careen upwards, my eyes fixed on a dwindling golden thread that is becoming shorter and shorter. I can hear the creature cackling somewhere, but I cannot see it and I frankly do not care. I reach out, to grab the golden thread. I shall not let Potter's life slip through my fingers. I will not allow it, and will do anything to achieve it.
My fingers close around the thread, and instantly I am jolted as if hit with electric current. For a period of time, it is all I can do to hold on to it and not let go to avoid the pain and shock of Potter's protesting, dying body.
Then I soar back downwards, pulling the line with me with as much force as possible. I am almost there. Harry's silver form is limp and floating. Not again. Not again! Remus is frantic, watching me approach. I suddenly stop, as if I met against a brick wall. It takes me a few moments to realise what is happening.
Minerva is not upkeeping the charm anymore! Our bodies are re-claiming our souls, pulling us back. Mine and Remus', that is.
"Lupin! Minerva's stopped the spell. You will have to come up to meet me, NOW." I bark at him, and he complies, somewhat involuntarily, as he starts being pulled upwards. I am resisting all I can, thus managing to remain at one fixed point between the dome and the ground.
Remus floats up to me, and I grab on to Harry's soul.
"I can't resist, Severus," he says in agony. It is not surprising. He spent more energy than I did before.
"Don't resist it, Remus. Go wake up. Help Minerva bring Harry back, and I will help from here." I mutter as I desperately try to find a way to re-attach the thread to its rightful owner.
"But..."
"You are of no more help to me or Harry here!" I snap at him, and he wordlessly allows to be pulled upwards and through the dome. At least Lupin will make it back alive.
I focus all my energy on resisting the ever-growing pull of my body and in the same time try to convince the spirit of the Boy-Who-Lived to get back its goddamned thread.
"C'mon Potter. Come ON, Potter. Show me how to help you."
Unfortunately, no such help comes, nor does any kind of divine intervention happen. I feel myself slowly being pulled. My energy is dwindling, and I feel cold. I pull Harry with me, and with my one free hand I hold him close to my heart in my first voluntary hug. I complete the embrace by wrapping his soul with my other arm, the one holding the thread, and stay that way as tight as possible.
"Please, Harry. Live."
I don't know if I spoke that or I thought that, but it was the strongest wish I had made in ages.
I feel one of the wizard's bonds untie and leave my hand. I peer at my wrist over Harry's silvery shoulder. It is the golden one that has unwrapped.
James.
The small golden wisp floats from my wrist to Harry, and enters his spirit. My heart skips beats, and I feel a hesitant, reluctant joy creep into my soul as slowly, the golden glow shows in the boy's chest and expands more and more until all of Harry is indeed golden. The golden thread I had been holding escapes my grip and re-connects to Harry's heart as if drawn there magnetically. With a jolt, the boy is pulled from my grasp and speedily goes through the dome to the body that hungrily claims back its owner.
Harry is alive. Who cares about anything else. Who cares that I feel cold and faint, when I am so filled with joy? Who cares if my thread has no more energy left to pull me back?
Surely not I.
I shut my eyes happily, content to have done what I did, content that finally my debt to James is repaid, that he has released me. Perhaps now I will be at peace with him. I know I will. Then suddenly, abruptly, my body starts spinning madly upwards, roughly, re-aquainting me with the nauseous feeling that I had experienced upon my arrival here. I moan this time. I am too tired to put up with it, and I am not afraid of what I might have to face anymore, and so I allow myself to think and feel no more....
....
.......
........
....is respoding now, Paloma...
...of course he would shiver...
....he is probably -listening-. I can feel it...
I choose not to open my eyes. Everything touching me feels solid once again. Too solid, perhaps, because I hurt everywhere, and I am so cold.
"I know you are awake, Professor."
Oh, shut it, Potter.
"That is not too polite, is it, Professor?"
That compels me to open my eyes. Did the boy just read my mind? I find myself looking into Lily's beautiful sea of green-- only it is Potter's set that is featuring it. The boy is smiling down at me, all rosy and energetic. A nice sight, but I would prefer to sleep some more. He smiles.
"There you see? That was not so bad."
Did I imagine it, or can you hear me think, Potter?
I watch the boy strain a bit, his eyes unfocusing just a little before he laughs under his breath and smiles at me.
"I can hear you think, Professor, but only when you want me to."
I cannot possibly imagine when I suddenly wished for Potter to be able to hear my thoughts, but I let that pass, and ask a rather more interesting question.
"How?"
"I think it has to do with you reconnecting me to my body." Harry says quietly. A shadow washes over his face, but it is gone as soon as it appeared. I can feel him think about the pain and the agony of watching me struggle and being unable to respond, and of his fear of me letting go and leaving him there in the dark place with the dome of silver threads.
"Bah, Potter. You should know better by now. I am too stubborn to fail." I tell him gruffly and he smiles warmly at me once more. Then I realise that one is missing.
"Lupin?"
"He is teaching class, Professor." Harry says with a grin. "The students are back, you have been in a semi-coma for 2 weeks."
I groan and try to get up, then realise that I am not wearing much. Drat. Paloma discovered Poppy's method. Harry's eyes are twinkling.
"Professor McGonagall has been teaching Potions for the while you have been busy. Of course the whole affair with the creature is kept under wraps-- and naturally.."
"...the whole school knows.." I say mournfully. Harry laughs again.
"Oh you aren't really sad. You are a hero all over again. Oh, and you are also Deputy Headmaster. Professor Lupin suggested there was no other better to fill that position."
The boy has a sadistic streak, most definately, for dropping news of this gravity on me without warning. And not only that, he leaves laughing his heart out at my expression, and Paloma comes down on me with menace only nurses have.
It is good to be back to normal....
Not.
~~Finis~~
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And this is another story done! *confetti, streamers, disco music* Of course, the dark creature was not completely distroyed... and since it pulled on a random thread and disappeared, we all know what that means... it possessed someone! *dark voice* it will be back for more...
That is, if you wish. And there is only one way to tell me this. *Snape points to review button*