~ Chapter 5: A trip down Memory Lane ~
In the living room of Snape's cottage.
The living room was peacefully quiet though the silence was occasionally broken by the soft purrs of a very contented cat and the rustling of parchment. Harry was looking through a list that Kingsley and Snape had compiled of what the youth could do during the summer holidays besides completing his homework. Snape, the back-to-normal-looking Potions Master, was carefully sipping his hot chocolate while his free hand scratched Black's chin. The clock played a soft tune, Enya's Tea-House Moon; and the normally stern wizard smiled faintly. Harry, for some reason, loved to put Muggle touches around the house. Snape glanced at the clock; it was already two in the morning and Harry had still not shown signs of apoplexy. Finally, he heard a groan from the young wizard. His faint smile turned into a devilish smirk.
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Harry stared at the list in dismay. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw that his godfather had plans for him to learn potions and poisons the Potions Master had used during his days as a Death Eater; as Snape kindly pointed out in a postscript at the bottom of the list, Aurors needed to be able to identify the poison or drug at a crime scene instantly. A groan involuntarily escaped him and he looked up to see his godfather giving him an evil smile.
"You are a difficult man Sev," Harry said simply as he rolled the parchment up.
"What a shame," Snape drawled and Harry pretended to throw the parchment at him. The raven-haired youth leaned back in his chair and sighed. His mind wandered as he thought about the bracelet's unexpected reaction.
"Sev," Harry called and his godfather gave him an inquiring look. "How did Draco know that I was the maker?"
His godfather was silent before answering in a quiet voice. "It is very... coincidental that this happened. I had a brief meeting with Dumbledore and his brother about Draco and then I came home to you attempting to strangle me." Harry sheepishly waited patiently, watching the Potions Master set the mug on the coffee table. "Dumbledore suspects that Draco can somehow see people's auras." When Harry gave him a baffled look, Snape explained with great patience, "Until today's meeting, I had not been aware that Draco actually reported to Dumbledore the allegiance of both of the Montague brothers, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, a handful of seventh-year Slytherins and one Ravenclaw."
Harry gave a brief start of surprise. It certainly didn't occur to me that Drake might not be normal... Wizardly-speaking of course. He wanted to think about it in greater depth but his eyes unfocused slightly and he reassured himself that he would have plenty of time to ponder things over.
"So when is Remus visiting us?" Harry asked cheerfully and to his profound amazement, he watched his godfather stammer in a very charming manner.
"Remus? Why is – what are you – why? " Snape stopped, clearly embarrassed and Harry made a sound of impatience. Snape tried again. "Why should he visit?" The Potions Master scowled, clearly not appreciating Harry's sudden question.
"His potion," Harry answered, shaking his head and looking at his godfather in amusement. "I think it might also be a good time for the two of you to have a chat – " Snape's face took on a brilliant shade of red, "– about how you became my godfather, dammit!" Harry was torn between open mirth and frustration as Snape stared mutely at him. Harry stood up, holding the parchment in one hand as he moved toward his godfather.
Harry had learned that the greasy-haired Potions Master was capable of affection during the last sixteen days prior to him to going down to King's Cross last September. It may have seemed impossible to believe, but Harry had grown so extremely fond of the Potions Master and he sometimes had to mentally slap himself to suppress the urge to show his concern even if the two were alone in Snape's office. Unless, of course, his godfather was being incredibly snappish, Harry could see absolutely no reason why he should subject himself to Snape's sharp comments when the wizard was feeling irritable. Now, though, Harry had no qualms in doing so. Who would bear witness to it except for the cat and the two wizards in the house? His fingers gently brushed the strands of silky black hair away from the wizard's face and Harry leaned down, planting a soft kiss on Snape's forehead.
He drew back and studied his godfather's face, happy to see Snape relax. He searched for new creases and worry-lines, taking in the sharp cheekbones and Snape's closed eyes. It was a minute before those eyes reopened, black fixing on emerald.
"Thank you," his godfather whispered, relishing in the simple feeling of being cared for. He smiled gratefully when Harry told him in a matter-of-fact manner that he didn't have to be so incredibly shy when it came to Lupin.
"I miss you, you old bat," Harry said quietly, looking very intently at the Potions Master. He changed the subject. "Talk to Phineas and ask Dumbledore to arrange it. I will not have you risking your neck trying to get the potion to Remus, especially not when I still have so much more to learn from you," he said in mock graveness and Snape snorted. Clearly, his godfather was not taking him seriously when it came to his love for study. Harry continued, "Besides, it's best if Remus hears the details from you rather than Professor Dumbledore."
Snape nodded his agreement and moved slightly. Black took the signal and stood, stretching his back lazily before leaping off the Potions Master's lap. Harry watched as his godfather got up from the chair and proceeded into the kitchen to wash the mug. He was just about to go to his bedroom when he heard Snape call.
"Sev? What is it?" Harry asked softly.
His godfather's face was inscrutable as Harry studied him. "Is Draco really going to be safe in the Manor? Even with the bracelet?" his godfather asked in a worried voice.
"He has to be," Harry whispered, eyes going distant. We have to plan for emergencies soon. If anything happens, can Draco seek refuge here? He unconsciously nibbled on his lower lip making his godfather look at him curiously. No, bad idea. I'll probably be distracted to death wanting to run my fingers through his hair. If not that, I'll probably end up killing him trying to get that sneer off his face. He heard the soft clink of glass against metal as Snape placed the clean mug onto the rack.
"It's late and you're tired," said Harry. "Take a rest and we'll leave those books of yours for tomorrow. Sometimes I don't know which is worse... having Hermione draw up study plans for me or you drawing them up."
Snape smiled crookedly as he dried his hands on a kitchen towel. "I will rest but first I will send a message to Dumbledore. However, I am not about to waste my energy trying to wake the portrait up if Phineas is snoozing." A minute later, Snape was talking to Phineas in a clear voice and the wizard-in-the-portrait disappeared to deliver the message.
The two wizards then left the study for their respective bedrooms, deciding after a brief discussion that they could wait to hear Dumbledore's answer the next day. Harry was walking slightly ahead of his godfather and was the first to reach his bedroom since it was closest to the living room. He was a little surprised when he felt pressure on his shoulders and was turned gently to face his godfather.
His eyes automatically shut as Snape closed the distance, and Harry laid his cheek against his godfather's hair, arms circling Snape in an embrace. He felt the comforting warmth of the wizard, the steady beating of Snape's heart, and the friction of his godfather's palm as he rubbed Harry's back. Harry felt his eyes watering as he recalled a similar embrace he'd had with his first godfather. Sirius...
His entire frame shook as waves of grief filled his soul and Harry fought hard to prevent his tears from falling onto his godfather's shoulder. He heard Snape murmur a series of comforting words but Harry didn't really understand them. Slowly, he was consoled by his godfather's soothing voice. He held onto Snape until the sadness passed then slowly retreated. Harry bowed his head and Snape leaned forward slightly (fortunately for the Potions Master, Harry was still two inches shorter) to bestow a kiss directly onto Harry's lightning-shaped scar. Snape's fingers came and rested on his chin for a moment before lifting it up. Harry stared directly into his godfather's eyes. For an instant, Harry saw the prominent nose shrink, the face fill out, and the black eyes turn clear blue. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes before opening them again. Snape was staring intently at him.
"Sleep well," his godfather murmured.
"I'll try. And thank you Sev." With a final squeeze, Harry released his godfather's waist and stepped back. He opened his bedroom door and slipped in. "'Night," he said softly with a smile before he closed the door. He placed the forgotten and nearly crushed parchment on his desk before he went to sit on the edge of his bed. He breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet, calming scent of Blood Orange. He stripped off his shirt, feeling more comfortable as bare skin met the breeze (magically induced) circulating in the room. The candles that had been lit earlier in the evening slowly winked out as he got ready for bed.
Harry shifted and leaned against the headboard, staring blankly at the wall before him. He wasn't thinking about anything until he asked himself, When did I finally realize that I actually began to like Drake? He began looking through memories to search for the answer. One thing I know is that I felt it sometime before the OWLs. His mind drifted and he suddenly thought back to an image of Draco. The Slytherin was not in his school robes but simply dressed in a smart shirt and black trousers. Harry was probably standing inside a balcony, since he remembered that he had been looking down to watch Draco. He recalled watching an overcast sky with flashes of lightning dancing across it, the soothing rumbles of thunder in the background. Harry remembered the feeling of his robes flying about him as he stood in the direct path of the stormy wind. Draco stood beneath the sky, undaunted, although it may have been wiser if he had enjoyed the storm from inside the castle. His pale, angular face had been tilted upwards and the image of the Slytherin became so clear in his mind that Harry gave a harsh gasp. Merlin... He looks... looked beautiful! I never knew that he had a soft spot for nature...
He took several moments to calm his erratic breathing. I know that I like him. A lot. But do I love him? Harry mused. I do know that my feelings for him are deeper than my fascination with Cho. Harry finally lay down and stared at the ceiling. But why him of all people? He gave a long sigh. Looks like I'm going to be stuck on Drake for a while. He smiled and concentrated on the link that had accidentally been established between the Slytherin and himself. Harry only heard peaceful silence. He must be asleep... Harry closed his eyes but sleep did not come to him. He remained awake and found himself thinking about the night that had certainly changed him.
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Flashback. Harry's memory.
18th July 1996. At the Dursleys'.
Harry was lying on his stomach reading a book Hermione had recommended and was taking down notes. It really felt like research. The work was something he had never enjoyed doing, but this time, he pushed himself to concentrate. Suddenly, Voldemort decided to visit Harry with another vision.
Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He was standing in a living room of some sort. The image was slightly fuzzy and he was a little amused when he realized it was because he did not have his glasses on. His throat suddenly went dry when he crossed the room in a glide. Anger quickly rushed through his mind. Bloody hell. I'm him. He heard a shriek and felt his lips curl into a satisfied smile. This is just a vision and it's not really happening. I'm not giving in to the same trap twice.
Finally, Harry/Voldemort stood by the kitchen entrance. Harry/Voldemort took note of a man who sat slumped in a chair, blood spurting from the jugular in tremendous amounts. There were more whimpers and Harry/Voldemort searched for the source. Lucius Malfoy stood by the refrigerator, his left hand gripping a bloodied knife while his right held his cane. The Death Eater was watching two women huddling by the kitchen sink.
"Take the girl Lucius," Harry/Voldemort issued the order. The Death Eater did not answer but quickly moved to obey.
Harry's whole body shook in shock as he stared at the face of a very frightened Hermione. Harry felt even worse when he saw her eyes were filled with fear as she stared at him.
"Imperio," Harry/Voldemort uttered, and commanded Mrs. Granger to step forward. Hermione's mother walked in jerky motions, her eyes glazed over and stopped two feet away from Harry/Voldemort. "Take that knife on the table." Mrs. Granger obeyed.
"No..." Hermione whimpered, struggling diffidently but gradually growing more frantic as she fought to free herself from Lucius's hold. The pale-haired wizard snarled, dropping the knife he was holding and yanked hard on Hermione's hair. A strangled scream escaped from the young woman.
"Kill the girl," Harry/Voldemort commanded in a cold voice but Mrs. Granger did not move. Harry felt hope rising in him as he saw Mrs. Granger visibly fighting against Voldemort's order. Harry/Voldemort turned to Hermione and smiling, he nodded at Lucius. The Death Eater smiled back and traced his tongue along Hermione's neck. Harry's friend cried out and flinched, an expression of disgust on her face.
Harry's anger deepened. If the bastard's really doing this to my friend, Draco's father is a dead man. Harry closed himself completely, determined not to watch the vision.
"No...no... Potter..." Voldemort hissed and Harry's eyes flew open. "I want you to look." Harry recoiled from the sight and he started to panic. "Kill the girl, woman," Harry/Voldemort repeated and Mrs. Granger lost the internal battle and obeyed Voldemort's command. Hermione gave a frightened whimper as she watched her mother. Her eyes darted swiftly to Harry/Voldemort. Just before the knife plunged into her chest, she whispered,
"Harry..."
His screaming was abruptly cut off by Dudley hauling him out of his bed and him crashing against his desk. He collapsed to his knees and clutched at his head. His scar burned intensely and he was frightened. He blinked his eyes, feeling dizzy, and stared at the blue bucket Dudley held out to him in confusion. The instant he touched the bucket, his stomach heaved and he vomited uncontrollably.
He felt nauseous and placed the bucket down shakily. He looked at his cousin gratefully when Dudley threw a damp towel at him. He wiped his face, soothed by the coolness but he was bothered by the way his scar hurt. Damn. That vision can't possibly be real. Hermione knows to keep her wand with her at all times. Tonks would raise the alarm even if the Death Eaters were out for a casual stroll. Snape... I have to go back to him... But I won't beg... He used the desk to lever himself up and took the bucket to the bathroom. He washed both bucket and towel thoroughly. The latter he hung onto a clothesline to dry while he turned the bucket upside down. Thank goodness both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are still out. I'm going to Dumbledore...
Harry walked past his cousin and began gathering his belongings, throwing them unceremoniously into his trunk. He felt Dudley's puzzlement and spoke without looking at his cousin. "I'm going back to my school but don't tell your parents. If by chance Moody – that's the weird-looking guy with the weirder eye – or a guy with golden eyes comes to check up on me, send them up here. I will leave them a note but don't admit them if they don't give you the password and the token."
"Password?" Dudley looked at Harry in apprehension. "I have to stand there and ask them?" Harry nodded solemnly.
This was what that had been arranged a few days after Harry got home from Hogwarts. Since the members of the Order wouldn't be around often, with the sole exception of Mrs. Figg, Moody had come up with the not-so-original idea. Both the password and the token were regularly changed until the next time Harry received a visit. For that week, the password was 'The werewolf has three claw marks on his left inner thigh' and the token was one of Hedwig's snowy-white feathers braided with blue crystals.
"Are you sure that whoever comes checking will just stand there and say the password without doing those hand-flicks?" Dudley asked in a dubious voice.
"If that happens, I'm sure that you'll be grateful that the people who were supposed to keep an eye on me will avenge your deaths in a dramatic fashion," Harry said. He had torn off a piece of parchment and was scribbling quickly on it. "Read this quickly." Harry thrust the scrap at Dudley who took it and read what was written. Harry took the piece of parchment back and stared at the scrap until it vanished. It was far safer to destroy the article than to leave it lying around since Harry had described what the token was and he had also written down the password.
"They have to give you the token and don't admit them in if they start giving you lame excuses about not having the token with them, or that they had immediately come from a meeting. No token, no entry," Harry said, looking intently at his cousin. "If they're still persistent, just slam the door in their face and give that umbrella stand a good kick. That's an alarm system by the way. But if both of us are lucky, they shouldn't visit at all until Dumbledore figures out what I should do." Harry didn't really care how absurd he had sounded giving those instructions to his cousin. All he cared about now was getting ready to fly. He pinned a note on his pillow, hoping that Dudley would leave it for Moody or Lupin if they came.
Harry quickly changed into his black trousers and searched his cupboard for a black shirt. He had none and he burst into a fit of curses. He turned to Dudley and asked if his cousin had a black shirt to spare. Dudley came back into his room five minutes later and threw a black sweater at him.
"Thanks," Harry mumbled as he slipped the jumper over his dark blue T-shirt. He took his cloak and quickly fastened the throat-latch. "I'm going to create a huge blackout in this neighborhood so I can get out without being seen."
Dudley gave him an arch look. "But you said that you are still not allowed to use magic."
"Whatever works," Harry muttered and suddenly, a blanket of heavy darkness fell onto Little Whinging. He grabbed his Firebolt and quickly launched off from the ground, coincidentally bumping into a snowy figure. "Hedwig!" he hissed. "I'm going off to find Dumbledore. You stay at the Dursleys' until I come back for you. Go!"
Harry kept flying while Hedwig quickly swerved and headed for the safety of the Dursleys'. He did not know how long he was up flying in the air or how he knew which direction to go. I am such a big idiot! Will Dumbledore even be there? God help me if McGonagall catches me flying. She will have fits. He shook his head but it was too late for him to turn back. The longer he stayed up in the air, the more the chance of Voldemort being aware of his vulnerability. He happened to look below him. A vast swirling black sea met his gaze and he stared at it in wonder. He snapped his attention back to the air. Have to go faster... Harry willed his broom to accelerate, hoping that it would still remain intact after the escapade. Damn! It's already dawn...
Finally, Harry caught sight of the Forbidden Forest and was greatly relieved. All of his limbs had gone numb because of the cold wind and his face stung. He thought he saw a black figure moving quickly away from Hagrid's hut in his direction. Without warning, his mind faded into blackness.
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Snape's unhurried walk turned into a run and he was cursing vehemently. Even in the darkness of the early morning, he was able to see that the rider on the broom had lost consciousness, hands hanging by the side loosely and head sagging forward. The broom began to sway unsteadily and Snape's heart rate increased. He quickly extracted his wand from his voluminous robes and cast a binding charm on both rider and broom. However, the Firebolt was still racing toward the castle and Voldemort would have won the war simply because The Boy Who Lived had managed to splatter himself across the walls of the castle. Snape did not yet know that the rider was The Boy Who Lived.
"Impedimenta!" Snape's voice echoed eerily but the effect was not enough. He placed every bit of magic he had into the next Impediment Jinx. As if reacting to the spells Snape had cast, the Firebolt stopped completely. It hovered in the air for a few minutes before gently floating downwards. Snape watched the broom and rider silently before his legs carried him forward. He released the binding charm and the rider fell to his side, legs tucked under him awkwardly.
Snape blinked, trying to figure out why the rider looked familiar. In the next second, he exploded with more curses, walking around Harry in circles. What on earth was he thinking?! Was he even thinking?! He rode off on a broom on his own?! Damn you boy! I might as well kill you here right now for your stupidity! His face was livid and he was hissing. It took him several minutes to calm himself before he began to rationalize Harry's actions. Observe Severus. The boy is wearing black, totally black. He does not have anything else with him except for his broom and probably his wand. And I know that he is Harry Potter and not someone who has used Polyjuice Potion. He stopped stalking around the unconscious form and looked around suspiciously. Snape quickly knelt and shook Harry briefly.
There was no response from Harry. He muttered something vulgar under his breath and slipped one hand beneath Harry's head while the hand that still held his wand went to the back of Harry's knees. Snape scooped the youth up. He had expected to stagger under Harry's dead weight but was surprised when all he felt was a comfortable, manageable weight. Is he always this light? Snape thought. He looked over his shoulder and twisted his wand a little while muttering, "Mobiligenisus." Harry's Firebolt merely hovered and Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Mobili- Firebolt." The broomstick slowly inched its way toward the Potions Master and Snape quickly walked toward the entrance of the castle. He made his way to a corridor that was rarely used since it was always hidden until it was needed. It held a portrait that would lead the Potions Master directly to the Headmaster's office.
Salazar Slytherin watched him with narrowed eyes, first scanning the Potions Master's face before scanning Harry's. "The password." Salazar whispered and the three other figures of the Founders turned their heads to look.
"Pax Deorum," Snape answered and the two-meter tall portrait slowly swung open and held long enough for the Firebolt to follow. Snape slowly ascended the spiral staircase. The flight of stairs seemed endless and Snape was already perspiring and panting. As light as Harry felt in his arms, his muscles were already straining with the unaccustomed stress. Finally, he reached a broad step and rapped twice on the wall, pausing for several seconds before rapping it again once.
"Severus? What brings you this – " The voice was cut off as Dumbledore's eyes took in the unconscious form. The ancient wizard moved aside to let the Potions Master through. When he saw the Firebolt coming through and propping itself vertically against Fawkes's perch, he gave an exclamation. "Blessed Merlin! Please do not tell me that he actually flew here! Alone!"
"I am afraid that is exactly what the Gryffindor has done, Headmaster. If you do not mind conjuring something up, my arms are just about to fall off," Snape panted. Dumbledore quickly conjured a couch and a chair. Snape gently lowered Harry down on the purple couch before collapsing in the armchair. "Hagrid was not in his hut when I went to find him. Has he returned?" Snape questioned the Headmaster after his breathing returned to normal.
'Ah, that may be because I had sent him on another errand earlier. Yes, he has returned intact and uninjured," Dumbledore added and Snape nodded in a preoccupied manner. Then Snape's eyes refocused and he cleared his throat once. Dumbledore nodded his head encouragingly.
"About Mr. Potter. Why do you think he has come here, risking his life and probably causing Remus and Moody quite a bit of anxiety if they've gone to check up on him only to find that he has disappeared?" Snape asked, pushing his hair back with his wand.
"I have several theories but it is wiser if Harry is to tell us why," Dumbledore said as he crossed over to Harry. The old wizard took his wand out and whispered, "Ennervate." Snape looked at Dumbledore doubtfully when Harry gave a small shriek. Dumbledore repeated the incantation and this time, Harry jolted up into a sitting position, hands pressed tightly on his forehead, screaming in anguish. Dumbledore exchanged a worried look with the Potions Master.
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Harry was swimming in a sea of darkness when a stab of light pierced through his mind, bringing him back to consciousness. He gave a strangled yelp. Maybe the magic that I used to cause the blackout took more out of me than I expected, he thought absently. A stronger bolt of light pierced through and Harry screamed his heart out as his head pounded in unbearable pain. His scar chose to burn at the same moment and his mind was filled with images of Hermione being tortured. He did not realize that he was sitting or talking.
"Snape..." Harry whispered, face still buried in his palms and Snape looked inquiringly at Dumbledore.
"Harry," Dumbledore called gently but Harry did not really register the wizard's presence.
"Snape... got to learn..." Harry panted, still disorientated. Snape got up from his chair and his strong hands gently pried the youth's hands off his face. The touch of another brought Harry back to the present and suddenly, he was looking into the bottomless black eyes of the Potions Master; a man whom Harry thought he should hate but upon his return to the Dursleys, he couldn't find the energy to hate anyone. Only then was Harry aware of the couch he was on and the presence of the ancient wizard.
"Professor," Harry said, green eyes regaining their flicker when his wits flooded back to him. "I need you to teach me Occlumency. I have to learn," he said in a tight voice, ignoring the fact that the greasy-haired Potions Master was still holding on to his palms. Harry started to shake when Hermione's whimpers grew louder in his mind and Voldemort's insane laughter grew louder still.
"He needs to be calmed," Snape said in a quiet voice, looking gravely at Dumbledore. The Headmaster nodded absently, blue eyes going distant as he searched for the right incantation to give Harry the desired effect.
"Did anything happen to Hermione? Or anyone?" Harry asked Snape in a trembling voice. Both wizards shook their heads. Harry heard Dumbledore mutter something in Gaelic. When the spell took effect, Harry relaxed and Snape felt the tension in his palms slowly ebb away. When Dumbledore spoke words of encouragement, Harry began to talk, at first haltingly, and then the words came smoothly to him as time passed. Snape forgot to release Harry's hands, listening to the verbal account carefully. He winced and accidentally squeezed Harry's palm when the youth reported what he had seen Lucius doing to Hermione in a detached voice. Harry finally stopped speaking, weariness clear on his young face.
"Finite." Dumbledore ended the spell and closed his eyes in thought. The Headmaster had conjured another chair for himself and sat while he listened to Harry's account.
Harry was suffering through a bad headache and made a move to lean against the couch but Snape's hold on him prevented it. He looked at the Potions Master in confusion and Snape hastily let go of Harry's palms.
"What is your decision Severus? Will you take Harry as your student once more?" Dumbledore asked mildly.
"Does it look like I have a choice Headmaster?" Snape countered harshly. "I will teach him before the Dark Lord manages to find a way to control him from the inside and damages him in the process. I have seen too many people broken like that and I do not care to think of one of my students, who has barely passed childhood experiencing it." Then the Potions Master mumbled, "Provided I do not harm him by accident."
Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction before ordering the Potions Master to take Harry down to Snape's personal chambers and let the youth rest to avoid interrogations from a certain feline character. "Meanwhile, I will see to Harry's belongings and his owl and inform Moody of the change of arrangement." Snape was about to go when Dumbledore spoke again, "So you are taking a vacation?" Snape nodded, barely suppressing a sigh of resignation. "Excellent Severus! Now do go and escort Harry."
The Potions Master stood and moved off to the bookshelf that hid the secret stairway. He stopped when he realized that Harry was staring at him in a dazed manner. "I am sure that you have regained the control of your limbs by now Potter, unless you want me to carry you?" Snape asked in a silky voice.
Harry blushed painfully and stood up shakily. Dumbledore handed him his Firebolt while advising him to get some rest. Dumbledore also told him that they would have another discussion regarding the arrangements of Snape's temporary guardianship over Harry.
"Potter!" Snape called out impatiently. The Potions Master's voice echoed eerily in the stairwell and Harry had recovered enough that he shot a furious look at the out-of-sight Potions Master. He descended the stairs carefully and silently while mulling over the sensations he felt in Dumbledore's office. He was able to recognize understanding coming from Dumbledore but the emotions he felt coming from Snape were much more complicated. He felt fear, guilt, self-loathing and resignation. Resigned because of tutoring me?
He found that Snape was gazing at him as he emerged from the portrait hole. Something about the gold-framed portrait caught his attention and he stared unblinkingly at the portrait of the Four Founders. The Founders were all dressed splendidly and there was no sign of enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor. He wrenched his gaze away and quickly set off into the corridor when he felt Snape's irritation. Harry followed the Potions Master's lead and looked around suspiciously when Snape brought him to a corridor that he knew was there, but somehow had always forgotten to check out. Snape stopped by a door and tapped the surface four times with his wand. The door sprang open and Snape nodded to indicate that Harry should enter.
Harry was expecting a drafty, dungeon-like room but was happy to see that the room had a huge window facing the bed. Snape did not have much furniture in his room, but not so little that the room felt barren. He noticed that there was a spoon and a glass of milk on Snape's table.
"You will sleep there." Snape pointed a long finger to the bed. "And..." The Potions Master went to a small cupboard, opened it and retrieved a black bottle. Snape gave the bottle a good shake before uncapping the lid and pouring two spoonfuls of it into the glass of milk. He stirred it before he moved back to return the bottle. "Drink that," Snape ordered firmly. "It will prevent you from experiencing nightmares. And you will not venture out Potter. I do not care to have the Deputy Headmistress asking me a lot of questions." Snape then left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Harry stared at the closed door and sighed. He removed his cloak and Dudley's black sweater. Minutes later, he walked barefoot to the table where the glass of milk was waiting. He stirred absently, wondering if Snape's potion would help him sleep without his recurring dreams. He drank all of it, set the glass back on the table and slowly went to the bed. Too tired to even think, he fell asleep.
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Snape returned to his quarters two hours later. He paused at the door, listening for any noise but all he heard was silence. He opened the door and took a cautious peek in. Harry was asleep on his side, bare-chested and covered only by the light blanket. Snape winced when he noticed just how gaunt Harry was. Merlin! Do his caretakers actually feed him anything? He shook his head in disbelief as he turned to his wardrobe and grabbed a towel. He studied the sleeping raven-haired youth for a moment before he stepped into the bathroom to shower.
Snape was halfway through rinsing his hair under the cascading water when a wail rang throughout his quarters. What in the name... He hurriedly rinsed off the last traces of soap from his hair and briefly toweled himself. The blackness on his left forearm caught his eye. The boy already knows about it, he thought to himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist. Stepping out of the bathroom, he saw that Harry was sitting upright on his bed. He is still conscious? His jaw dropped, not believing that his strongest sleeping draft had just been proven useless.
"Sirius..." Snape heard Harry whispering Black's name as the boy huddled, trying to close himself from the surroundings. A choked sob escaped from the emerald-eyed youth. Snape was uncertain of what he should do, but standing around doing nothing did not suit him. He sat slightly behind Harry and pulled the youth to his chest. Snape would have been mortified if Harry had pushed him away but there was no resistance coming from the Gryffindor.
"I knew the potion would be useless." He heard Harry mumble. "Tried taking antidepressants. Don't know if it's because that I have magic that they weren't effective. I was hoping that you could at least give me something... so that I could sleep without seeing his face... Cedric's..." Harry was crying uncontrollably now.
Snape truly felt awkward trying to console Harry, so he just held on to the Gryffindor in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Harry was speaking again through sobs. "It's my fault that he died..." Snape's heart skipped a beat when Harry suddenly turned and buried his face in his chest. The Potions Master shivered when he felt Harry's bitter tears against his skin. His hand came up to gently stroke Harry's jet-black hair and Snape felt a little surprised at himself. Minutes passed and slowly, the stroking became easier; as a result, Harry had snuggled closer. Deprived of human contact... Why does it feel like he has actually spent his life in Azkaban? Snape gazed down at Harry's head. The sobbing had lessened but since Harry did not draw himself away, the Potions Master kept on holding him.
**********
Present.
The Malfoys'.
Draco was wide awake in his enormous four-poster bed. He thought it was just a dream but the image didn't fade even when he opened his eyes. He decided that the bracelet must be causing it. He had tried to remove it earlier but it just would not come off. Lucky that whatever Father did to Granger was just a vision. If he has done something like that to any of the students, I think I'll be more than happy to cast a Killing Curse on him myself. Draco began to ponder on Harry's memory. Is it really authentic? Am I really looking into his memory? He absently scratched an itchy spot on his leg. Occlumency. I know that I have heard that somewhere but I can't remember what it does, or what it is for. Maybe I should go up to the library and do a bit of research. Draco watched Snape holding Harry in his arms and he was suddenly filled with a surge of jealousy. The scene faded and he found himself staring at a ceiling again. He thought that Harry must have fallen asleep when another image started to impose itself in his mind.
**********
Flashback. Harry's memory.
25th July 1996. Snape's cottage.
It was just after dinner and Harry was washing the dishes the Muggle way. He had noticed after living with Snape for four days that Snape used very little magic except when he was brewing a potion. Harry was a little bewildered by the very simple arrangement because he had no idea where it had come from. Snape would cook for them and Harry would clean up after. They had rarely talked, save the Potions Master's usual biting comments when they started their Occlumency lessons, and Harry was cautious not to speak of the morning when Snape held him in comfort. He absently rinsed the plate and began to feel guilty for not practicing on his own. After several hours of near-brawling, Snape decided that Harry needed to learn very basic meditation.
"You really are in need of discipline Potter," Snape had said after he had managed to get a glimpse of how Voldemort had Cedric killed. "You will have to learn how to empty your mind of thoughts and emotions."
Harry had made an effort to practice that while washing the dishes. His hands moved of their own accord as he soaped, rinsed and dried the plates. A gentle nip on his ear broke his concentration; a silver hummingbird buzzed before his face. Snape had summoned him. He quickly finished his task and headed straight for the study. Although the door was open Harry still knocked and Snape commanded him to enter. Harry stared quizzically at the Potions Master when he felt apprehension. Snape turned away from the window and stared unwaveringly at him.
Harry broke the eye contact and his eyes fell onto the Pensieve on the table. I don't like the look of this, he thought to himself. He looked at Snape in inquiry.
"I want you to look into it," Snape grated and Harry stared at him.
"Why?" Harry asked in a suspicious tone.
Snape took a deep breath before speaking. "It's about the life-debt I owe to your father."
Still looking suspiciously at Snape, Harry moved forward until he was within touching distance of the Pensieve. He must be out of his mind... How does he know if the memory I look into is the right one? Nevertheless, Harry took his wand and tapped gently against the silvery surface. The liquid began to swirl, picking up speed until the liquid slowly turned transparent. It seemed to Harry that he should recognize the place. He looked at Snape again, and unbelievably, the Potions Master nodded. Harry plunged his face in slowly, hoping that the memory was the right one. Soon, he felt the familiar cold darkness and the dizzying spin. Finally, Harry was on his feet but he did not open his eyes until he was sure he had regained his equilibrium.
He realized why the place looked familiar. It was the Headquarters and he was in a drawing room. Then slowly, he noticed bottles and bottles of what smelled like Firewhiskey. He felt confused. Was Snape overind... His thought trailed off when two drunken wizards materialized. It was Snape and Lupin and instantly Harry knew that this was the wrong memory. Both wizards were sitting on the floor and Harry could not bring himself to reconcile the image of the forever-immaculately dressed Potions Master with the wreck before his eyes. He heard Lupin curse himself, Sirius and everyone else. Then Snape took his turn, calling Harry several names and quite thoroughly insulting Sirius before cursing himself for being incompetent.
Harry observed their antics and couldn't help thinking that they should have been wiser than to get themselves drunk. Lupin started to sob and Snape immediately sobered. Seems like he wasn't even drunk, he mused. And he stared when Snape's face began to soften. Before Harry could dwell on the significant change, he felt a hard smack on his arm. He was staring at Snape's face, red with what could be either embarrassment or anger, with open amusement. Snape did not say anything but he took Harry's hand and gave the Pensieve a prod with his wand. He should have done it this way in the first place. Seconds later, Harry was standing in the Great Hall with Snape.
Snape finally released his hand and spoke softly. "The Headmaster likes to conduct annual gatherings of Hogwarts's graduates. This was about three years after I had graduated."
Harry looked around and spotted Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick seated in various parts of the table. He saw his mother – she looked stunningly beautiful in her unadorned dark green dress – and his father sitting next to each other. They must have started going out after the OWLs. Harry's throat tightened when he heard Sirius's generous laughter. His green eyes searched until he found Lupin; Sirius was talking animatedly to his friend and Harry had to remind himself that this was just a memory. His eyes searched for a younger Snape and there he was, looking extremely bored. All around the younger Potions Master were witches who were batting their eyelashes at him. Young Snape ignored them.
"I'm surprised you didn't hex them," Harry said, not really aware that he had commented aloud. Eventually, young Snape moved off from the Hall.
"Follow," Snape instructed softly and Harry obeyed. The younger Potions Master was going out into the courtyard. Harry watched both Snapes curiously.
"What were you doing after you graduated?" Harry was compelled to ask, not really expecting Snape to answer him.
"I was apprenticed to one of my father's associates. Among other things," Snape answered quietly. Harry turned and studied Snape's profile and suddenly Snape shifted his gaze. Harry met his eyes and saw the shadows of pain that lingered and Snape nodded at Harry's unspoken question. Harry became silent and looked at the younger Snape instead.
"Thank you for coming Severus," a voice spoke up and Harry turned to find his father silently crossing the grounds.
"What do you want Potter?" Snape asked coolly, and before he could react, James had his wand out and cast a spell on young Snape. By Snape's expression of horror, Harry decided that his father must have jinxed him.
"Potter! You must be raving mad!" young Snape hissed but James just looked on resolutely.
"It is the best solution... or choice that I could think of," James answered in a firm voice.
"Me? A godfather? You must be insane if you would risk the life of your flesh and blood by putting a child into my care! Why me, who wants nothing more than to kill you?" Young Snape was almost screaming.
"Calm down Severus."
Harry looked at the scene in confusion. What in the world are they talking about? Young Snape continued to protest.
"I want you to remove the spell at once!" Snape ordered, sounding quite hysterical. "I will do anything else but bind myself further to your family!"
"I said calm down." James looked at young Snape in annoyance. "Sirius will be the godfather of my children but should anything happen to him..."
"Make use of Lupin then!"
"I don't very much care for your words Severus," James said in a deathly quiet voice. "You have to take up that burden if anything happens to Sirius. That is the only way you'll be freed from me." James turned and headed back to the Hall, leaving young Snape cursing and gesticulating in the empty courtyard.
Harry stared at young Snape until his eyes hurt. The younger Potions Master's face was strained and flushed in anger. What surprised him most that he could actually feel the terror coming from the memory. Harry still had no idea what had just passed between his father and the Potions Master. "I still don't understand..." he heard himself say just as the memory faded and he was back in Snape's study. Harry stared up at the Potions Master standing beside him. "I don't understand. What did my father do to you?"
"I have to take care of you Potter," came the strangled reply and Harry was even more baffled. "I have to be..." Snape looked like he would rather die than continue speaking. "I'm your godfather now..."
**********
Present.
Draco's bedroom.
It was the first time Draco had had the chance to see James Potter and he marveled at the similarities between father and son. All except the green eyes. So that's how Snape became his godfather. Life-debt. Fitting price. Draco mused and toyed with his hair. That memory of Snape and Lupin was cute though, too bad Snape chose to bring Harry out. Something interesting could have happened there. Something occurred to him as he thought about Harry's living arrangement. Someone will tell the Dark Lord about Snape's exposure very soon. I'm glad I don't have the faintest idea where Snape lives. What I don't know, I can't tell.
He reached for a small black box on his bedside table. "Time?" he asked.
"Twenty minutes before four, sir!" the magical watch reported. Draco placed the odd box back in its place. He froze when he heard a very familiar voice, too clearly for his taste.
"That's certainly a surprise. He saw what I was thinking. And why in hell is he awake?"
Unconsciously, as if Harry was actually right beside him, Draco let out a retort in his mind. "As if why I'm awake is any business of yours!"
**********
Harry's bedroom.
Harry's eyes flared open in surprise when he heard Draco's sharp retort. Oh damn! He could hear me? He babbled feverishly in his mind until Draco yelled.
"GODDAMNYOU Green-Eyes! You're ripping my mind to pieces! Stop THINKING!"
Harry's thoughts immediately vanished as he calmed himself but his heart pounded in his chest. Everything went silent and the only sounds in the room were his breathing and the clock on the wall as seconds ticked off.
"It's your own fault you know." Draco's thought reached him.
"Maybe I should have expected some kind of reaction from the bracelet," Harry agreed sheepishly. There was a long pause and he wondered if the Slytherin had fallen asleep.
"I thought I was imagining things when I thought I heard someone talking in my head. I'm really hearing you," Draco stated.
"I'm sorry about this. I only meant for the bracelet to give you protection, not as a way of opening communication lines," Harry replied truthfully. Well, it's true. If I'm able to communicate with him like this, then I can't use the excuse of touching him to talk anymore. What a shame... He gave a long sigh, then was startled by Draco's question.
"What was that?" Draco asked innocently, but his question was filled with amusement. Harry blushed, hoping that Draco did not hear his previous thoughts.
"Dear gods. I do not appreciate the fact that a Slytherin is tuning into my mind!" Harry groaned.
"Like you said Green-Eyes, some things can happen both ways." Draco immediately stopped and Harry heard him swear creatively.
"Green-Eyes?" Harry asked mildly.
"Shut up!" The Slytherin was clearly embarrassed. "Fix this. I don't want you hearing my thoughts, even by accident."
Harry felt oddly disappointed by Draco's demand. He asked in a reluctant tone, "Are you sure? That means you could no longer hear mine either."
"Fine."
"Spoilsport. Where has the Slytherin deviousness gone?" Harry asked in mock disappointment.
"Is that a challenge? Fine, we'll keep this open. I want to see just how long you can tolerate the fact that a Slytherin is looking through your mind, listening to every word and thought you say." Draco replied and his willingness caused Harry to think about the consequences. Draco had seen his memories and he was not supposed to. What if he began to dream? What then?
"We'll drop that. I will try to block us both," Harry thought quickly.
"Afraid Potter?" Harry could almost see the smirk on the Slytherin's face.
"Yes."
"Why?" Draco asked curiously.
"I have nightmares Drake. They're not pretty. Anything regarding Voldemort isn't pretty. You don't want to see him even in your sleep."
"All right." Draco finally answered.
**********
In the world of Dreams.
It was a barren place. Red ground, made even redder by the blood of fallen witches and wizards. Harry watched in horror as he saw Charlie's dragon sliced open by the claws of a creature related to the one that had nearly caused him his life in late October last year. It was a creature that looked like it was a crossbreed between a Lethifold and a Red-Cap. He saw Charlie plucked out of his seat by five of those creatures and his stomach revolted as blood rained down. Ginny shrieked and he turned to see Ron and Hermione pulling the girl up from Dean's motionless form. Swarms of Death Eaters flooded the area and Harry stared, watching his friends kill and being killed. It was always the same. He wasn't fighting, just observing. Voldemort laughed. Clearly, the Dark Lord was aware of his helplessness in the dream. The laughter grew louder and it made goosebumps appear on his skin.
"Potter." A voice called him. Harry thought he should know the owner but no face came to his mind. "Harry." Again, the voice called him and Harry grew frantic. He was moving now, stepping over dead bodies, trying to look for the owner of the voice. He started to run, searching, but not knowing what he was looking for.
"Why are you running Potter?" Voldemort's cold voice washed over him. "Look." Voldemort instructed and Harry stopped to look. The Dark Lord held Hermione. She was trying to pry away Voldemort's hands which were clutched around her neck.
"Harry." The voice Harry heard became clearer and more insistent. More Death Eaters surrounded Voldemort and the Dark Lord's hand was running freely over Hermione. "Harry." Strong arms closed about him and he wrenched his gaze away from Voldemort. Everything else dissolved and Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. His knees gave way and he collapsed against the person who held him.
"I knew that you would fail to block us both. So, that's what the Dark Lord looks like," Draco said in a clinical voice and Harry jerked his head around to stare at the Slytherin. Harry was amazed when he realized that Draco was very calm about the entire dream. Something broke inside him, and without realizing it, Harry started crying in silence. The blackness changed and soon they were surrounded by light, standing in a vast field. The Slytherin tugged him down and sat underneath a Holly tree.
"Malfoy..." Harry managed to choke out.
"Draco," the Slytherin corrected. "Or maybe Drake. Why didn't you ask Snape for a... Well, maybe it didn't work for you?" Draco asked and Harry nodded wearily. Harry suddenly realized that he was sitting on the Slytherin's lap and that Draco had wrapped his arms around him. It felt so comfortable that he knew he must be dreaming.
"So what if you are?" Draco asked in amusement and Harry looked again at the Slytherin's face. "No more nightmares?"
"Isn't this one?" Harry asked quietly and Draco chuckled. Harry looked around through blurry eyes. The tree that Draco was leaning against was the only one in the field. He was still staring around at the vast field when he heard Draco's contented sigh. Harry flinched when he felt Draco's lips grazing his neck. Yes... this is a nightmare. A very weird nightmare.
"Seems like I have to make you revise your opinion on this particular one," Draco whispered. Long fingers danced across Harry's jaw and traced his cheeks before gently wiping away the trace of tears. Harry didn't dare breathe as Draco continued with his ministrations and he forgot to breathe when Draco's silver eyes stared at him in a penetrating gaze. "I always thought you looked silly in glasses but your new ones make you look good," Draco said in a husky voice. The Slytherin slowly leaned forward and Harry's eyes automatically closed. When he felt Draco's lips touch his in a very chaste kiss, he groaned. He shivered and felt Draco pull back to admire the effect the kiss had on him.
"I feel like I've just found what I've been searching for even though I didn't know that I've been looking for it," Harry whispered, green eyes widening as he saw the smile on Draco's face.
"Funny. I was feeling exactly the same," Draco whispered and his hands tightened on Harry's waist. "This is quite a wonderful solution to your nightmares, unless you find it detestable that I'm being very nice to you."
"Drake," Harry began in a very calm voice, "I'm going to kiss you." Draco tilted his head in a challenging gesture and silver-eyes flashed in surprise when Harry tackled him so that the Slytherin was now lying flat on his back. Merlin... He feels so... real. Harry gulped as he moved and slowly settled atop of the Slytherin. He saw the blush spreading across Draco's cheeks as Harry felt something very thrilling pressing against his body. We have time to experiment later. I want to kiss him and find out what he tastes like, Harry thought mischievously. Green eyes met silver and approval shone from Draco's eyes. Harry licked his lips and grinned when Draco made a sound of impatience. Harry chuckled and found Draco's lips. Instinct ruled both of them as they explored each other's mouths. Silently, they exchanged an oath as they melted into one, forever bound as lovers.
**********
Firesword: So, how was this chapter?