Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
A/N – Well, this time I waited for sadilou to come back before I posted, so everything is her fault. *nods* At least all the mistakes. Gusha is in charge of the brilliance.
*****
"I think I had another significant dream this morning." Harry said as they headed down to Sev's rooms.
"Didn't you use the…"
"Yes, I did." Harry cut in. "I don't remember the dream. That doesn't mean I didn't have it. I sometimes wake up suddenly. My scar doesn't hurt, but I usually have the feeling that it did or it might have or something."
Sev looked down at his son, questioningly. He noticed in some irrelevant part of his mind that Harry was getting taller; soon he wouldn't be able to see the top of the boy's head.
"I know, it doesn't make much sense, but that's what it feels like." Harry blew out a frustrated breath. "Nothing seems to make sense anymore, Sev. Sometimes I feel like the whole world has gone insane around me."
"That's called adolescence, Harry. We all go through that." Sev looked down at his son almost questioningly and was gratified that the boy laughed. Sev allowed a smirk to play across his face.
"Maybe you're right." Harry grinned up at him. "Hey, do you think Voldemort will go away if I grow up some."
Sev made a choking sound that was almost a laugh.
"Right," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Too much to hope for."
They reached the abstract painting. Sev looked furtively around the deserted landing and laid a simple privacy ward.
"I'm going to show you this." He said, still glancing around, "If you want to see it, that is."
Harry's eyes widened. "Tell me something about the painting first."
Sev nodded. "It was the last thing my mother ever worked on. It was stored away, incomplete for many, many years. From the time she died until father became unable to manage the estate. When it was clear that father was incapable of rational thought, much less running the family, the house elves began answering to me instead of to him. I became the master of the house. It's an odd process. They decide more than anyone, although there were parallel legal and medical processes."
Sev placed a hand on the frame of the painting. "This painting and quite a few others were placed in storage by the elves when father tried to destroy them. I finished this myself. It was my idea to incorporate the door guard. The design is entirely mother's. She painted the whole thing. It was not enchanted to move yet when I inherited it. I would say that it moves slightly differently than any of her others. I don't quite have her flair. You might say it was collaboration."
"Does it have meaning?" Harry asked
"Besides a rather obvious sadness and discontent?" Sev surveyed the motion of the picture for a while. "Yes, it has meaning. Sometime I will show you the book she put together about it. She made a book about each of her paintings. Mother was ill for about a year. I think father blamed her painting. Some of the paints contain hazardous substances: Lead, Doxy venom and various other things."
"Was that the truth?" Harry asked.
"No, I don't think it was. I spoke to her healer when I was a teenager. He told me painting had nothing to do with her death." Sev looked down at his son. "Do you want to see how it opens?"
"Yes." He said softly. "I would like to know."
"Stand here." Sev laid his hands on his shoulders and positioned him. "You see the general motion spirals in the opposite direction from the spiral of the column? The shapes move widdershins, the column spirals desoil."
Harry gazed at the painting for several long moments. "Yes. Except for that green star. It almost follows the grove of the column. It looks like the only really crisp shape too."
"Exactly right. When it reaches the top…Now. Watch it carefully."
"There is something behind it." Harry said.
"Concentrate carefully. Draw that hidden shape towards us. It will come."
As they both concentrated, the shape resolved into a slowly spinning sphere. It changed in color from yellow to purple to bright red. It came closer and closer.
"Now hold your hand out to where a doorknob should be. Don't touch the surface yet."
The sphere came to rest beneath Harry's hand.
"Just two fingers. Touch the spot lightly. Don't scare it away with a harsh jab. Caress it gently."
Harry did as he was told. The painting swung outward.
"Very good." Sev banished the wards. "It will take a couple of tries to get it right on your own. Let's go in."
Harry led the way into Sev's sitting room.
"Dumbledore said the man in your dream was found. It was Alexander Goyle. He's at St. Mungo's in the secure ward." Sev said.
"Do they have any clues as to where Voldemort will hide out next?" Harry asked.
"Not from Goyle." Sev said. "He is still unconscious."
Harry sprawled out on the couch. "I didn't realize how tired I am until just now." He said with a yawn.
"It is the magic you did just now." Sev replied, sitting in his chair and putting his feet up on the sitting room table.
"Upstairs, you mean?"
"And the door, of course." Sev rubbed his fingers on his bare forearm. "It feels so incredible. It doesn't hurt or itch or anything."
Harry smiled and closed his eyes. "I'm glad," He murmured.
"Hey, you're not falling asleep are you?" Sev smiled softly.
"Hum? No… I." Harry yawned again. "No." His eyes opened just a slit. "You're laughing at me." He mumbled.
"No, not at all." Sev countered.
"Good." Harry's eyes slid shut once more.
Sev shook his head and reached for the book he was reading. He would wake the boy in time for lunch.
*****
Harry was drifting on a sea of gray fog. He could see the lines of power floating around him. The ancient spells that went into the building the castle. The odd twisting of new magic, bubbling cauldrons and flourishing wands.
He drifted out of the building and across the countryside. Roads and towns passed in a blur. He was being drawn gently on by something. He felt like a bird, spiraling downward. It felt like somewhere he had been before, maybe not physically, but it was familiar.
He came to about ground level, but his feet hovered several feet in the air. Something about the place felt wrong. Harry looked around. There. The wrongness was coming from there.
Harry felt cold. There was a scream. A frightening shrieking wail. There was a building, a cottage? It was difficult to tell as it was covered with writhing, angry looking magic: pain and desolation.
Harry tried to back away from the cottage. It held him. The scream rose again.
Transfixed, Harry moved closer. He peeked in through the window. Wormtail. That man stooping over a bed was Peter Pettigrew.
On the bed was a sickening caricature of a man. It shrieked again. Voldemort. It had to be Voldemort. He seemed to be in great pain.
Harry turned around; he searched the street for anything that would identify the place. Street signs, there. The name of the pub across the street, and a shop down the lane. He fixed the names in his mind. He turned the other way. The name of the town printed neatly on the public library's sign. Wonderful.
Harry nodded. He needed to go back. Now.
A spectral hand reached over his shoulder and grasped at the air there. He turned and wrenched himself away.
"Who is there?" Asked a nasty voice. "Who are you, my little spy?"
Harry stood in terror, Voldemort was still writhing in pain on the bed, but he was also at the window, reaching blindly for him.
Harry forced himself to back away. He looked around for something to save himself. A fine silver thread trailed from his back off the way he had come. He took a hold of it in his hand and willed himself back along it.
Harry jerked awake, panting. "Severus. I know where Voldemort is. We must move quickly."
Sev stood; his book fell unnoticed to the floor.
"We have to see Dumbledore now." He pulled Harry up from the couch propelled him to the door. "You can tell me about it there. There is no time to waste. I never should have let you sleep anywhere without your talismans for protection."
Harry was taken aback by the rough treatment, but Sev was taking him where he wanted to go, so he did not protest. They practically ran through the halls.
They stopped at the Staff Room. Dumbledore was still there. He was examining his newly knitted socks.
"What is it, Severus?" He asked, looking up.
"Harry has had another vision." Sev paused for a shuddering breath. "Go on and tell us about it, Harry. Sit over here."
Sev and Harry sat near Dumbledore.
Harry described his dream in all the detail he could remember. He related the place names he had memorized as well as the general directions he thought he had traveled.
"Excellent, Harry." Dumbledore said when he was done. "However, I must impress upon you the danger you were in."
"Believe me, I felt it." Harry said, wincing. "I don't think I will ever forget it."
"I want you to carry one of your dream filtering talismans with you from now on, Harry." Dumbledore said gently. "We will set up lessons in Dream Walking, but for now, while things are so dangerous…" He trailed off.
"I understand." Harry said, he looked at Sev who seemed to have relaxed some.
"I must go." Dumbledore said, he stood, and then looked down at Severus. "Was Harry successful in removing the Mark?"
"Yes." Sev said.
"Do you think that was why Voldemort was ill?" Harry asked. "I mean backlash or something?"
They were all silent for a few moments.
"I believe that is a distinct possibility, Harry." Dumbledore said slowly. "I must go now. Do try to sleep in your own bed from now on."
"Yes, sir." Harry said meekly.
Dumbledore gathered up his things and left.
Harry and Sev looked at each other for several long minutes.
"I was frightened, Sev." Harry said.
"I'm sorry, I should have known better than to let you sleep unprotected."
"No, it wasn't your fault." Harry looked away and put his hands into his pockets. His hand encountered Della's letter book. "Oh, I have something I want to give you. I went through Della's things this morning." Harry pulled the book from his pocket.
"Is that what I think it is?" Sev asked. "The book where Della recorded our courtship?"
Harry nodded. "More than that. She put in all your letters from when you were separated too."
"But the book was full." Sev said. "She must have added pages." He looked up from the book, seeming slightly panicked. "You read the whole thing?"
Harry nodded. "She left it to me. I don't want to keep it, though. I think you should have it." He held out the little book. "She answered your letters."
Sev's mouth hung open. He stared at the book in his son's hand. He swallowed. Then he reached out and took the book. "Thank you, Harry." The tears that glistened in his eyes did not fall.
Harry looked away awkwardly.
Sev opened the book and flipped through, looking at all the pasted in envelopes. "I…" He stopped again.
"She loved you," Harry said. "I know she did."
After an uncomfortably long silence, Harry's stomach growled audibly. "I'm starving. Is it lunchtime yet?"
*****
A/N – So, I'm winding this story to a close sometime soon. (still at least 5 chapters or so to go) If you review, please mention any obvious loose ends that I still need to tie off.
I must say, this has been great fun.
A/N – Well, this time I waited for sadilou to come back before I posted, so everything is her fault. *nods* At least all the mistakes. Gusha is in charge of the brilliance.
*****
"I think I had another significant dream this morning." Harry said as they headed down to Sev's rooms.
"Didn't you use the…"
"Yes, I did." Harry cut in. "I don't remember the dream. That doesn't mean I didn't have it. I sometimes wake up suddenly. My scar doesn't hurt, but I usually have the feeling that it did or it might have or something."
Sev looked down at his son, questioningly. He noticed in some irrelevant part of his mind that Harry was getting taller; soon he wouldn't be able to see the top of the boy's head.
"I know, it doesn't make much sense, but that's what it feels like." Harry blew out a frustrated breath. "Nothing seems to make sense anymore, Sev. Sometimes I feel like the whole world has gone insane around me."
"That's called adolescence, Harry. We all go through that." Sev looked down at his son almost questioningly and was gratified that the boy laughed. Sev allowed a smirk to play across his face.
"Maybe you're right." Harry grinned up at him. "Hey, do you think Voldemort will go away if I grow up some."
Sev made a choking sound that was almost a laugh.
"Right," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Too much to hope for."
They reached the abstract painting. Sev looked furtively around the deserted landing and laid a simple privacy ward.
"I'm going to show you this." He said, still glancing around, "If you want to see it, that is."
Harry's eyes widened. "Tell me something about the painting first."
Sev nodded. "It was the last thing my mother ever worked on. It was stored away, incomplete for many, many years. From the time she died until father became unable to manage the estate. When it was clear that father was incapable of rational thought, much less running the family, the house elves began answering to me instead of to him. I became the master of the house. It's an odd process. They decide more than anyone, although there were parallel legal and medical processes."
Sev placed a hand on the frame of the painting. "This painting and quite a few others were placed in storage by the elves when father tried to destroy them. I finished this myself. It was my idea to incorporate the door guard. The design is entirely mother's. She painted the whole thing. It was not enchanted to move yet when I inherited it. I would say that it moves slightly differently than any of her others. I don't quite have her flair. You might say it was collaboration."
"Does it have meaning?" Harry asked
"Besides a rather obvious sadness and discontent?" Sev surveyed the motion of the picture for a while. "Yes, it has meaning. Sometime I will show you the book she put together about it. She made a book about each of her paintings. Mother was ill for about a year. I think father blamed her painting. Some of the paints contain hazardous substances: Lead, Doxy venom and various other things."
"Was that the truth?" Harry asked.
"No, I don't think it was. I spoke to her healer when I was a teenager. He told me painting had nothing to do with her death." Sev looked down at his son. "Do you want to see how it opens?"
"Yes." He said softly. "I would like to know."
"Stand here." Sev laid his hands on his shoulders and positioned him. "You see the general motion spirals in the opposite direction from the spiral of the column? The shapes move widdershins, the column spirals desoil."
Harry gazed at the painting for several long moments. "Yes. Except for that green star. It almost follows the grove of the column. It looks like the only really crisp shape too."
"Exactly right. When it reaches the top…Now. Watch it carefully."
"There is something behind it." Harry said.
"Concentrate carefully. Draw that hidden shape towards us. It will come."
As they both concentrated, the shape resolved into a slowly spinning sphere. It changed in color from yellow to purple to bright red. It came closer and closer.
"Now hold your hand out to where a doorknob should be. Don't touch the surface yet."
The sphere came to rest beneath Harry's hand.
"Just two fingers. Touch the spot lightly. Don't scare it away with a harsh jab. Caress it gently."
Harry did as he was told. The painting swung outward.
"Very good." Sev banished the wards. "It will take a couple of tries to get it right on your own. Let's go in."
Harry led the way into Sev's sitting room.
"Dumbledore said the man in your dream was found. It was Alexander Goyle. He's at St. Mungo's in the secure ward." Sev said.
"Do they have any clues as to where Voldemort will hide out next?" Harry asked.
"Not from Goyle." Sev said. "He is still unconscious."
Harry sprawled out on the couch. "I didn't realize how tired I am until just now." He said with a yawn.
"It is the magic you did just now." Sev replied, sitting in his chair and putting his feet up on the sitting room table.
"Upstairs, you mean?"
"And the door, of course." Sev rubbed his fingers on his bare forearm. "It feels so incredible. It doesn't hurt or itch or anything."
Harry smiled and closed his eyes. "I'm glad," He murmured.
"Hey, you're not falling asleep are you?" Sev smiled softly.
"Hum? No… I." Harry yawned again. "No." His eyes opened just a slit. "You're laughing at me." He mumbled.
"No, not at all." Sev countered.
"Good." Harry's eyes slid shut once more.
Sev shook his head and reached for the book he was reading. He would wake the boy in time for lunch.
*****
Harry was drifting on a sea of gray fog. He could see the lines of power floating around him. The ancient spells that went into the building the castle. The odd twisting of new magic, bubbling cauldrons and flourishing wands.
He drifted out of the building and across the countryside. Roads and towns passed in a blur. He was being drawn gently on by something. He felt like a bird, spiraling downward. It felt like somewhere he had been before, maybe not physically, but it was familiar.
He came to about ground level, but his feet hovered several feet in the air. Something about the place felt wrong. Harry looked around. There. The wrongness was coming from there.
Harry felt cold. There was a scream. A frightening shrieking wail. There was a building, a cottage? It was difficult to tell as it was covered with writhing, angry looking magic: pain and desolation.
Harry tried to back away from the cottage. It held him. The scream rose again.
Transfixed, Harry moved closer. He peeked in through the window. Wormtail. That man stooping over a bed was Peter Pettigrew.
On the bed was a sickening caricature of a man. It shrieked again. Voldemort. It had to be Voldemort. He seemed to be in great pain.
Harry turned around; he searched the street for anything that would identify the place. Street signs, there. The name of the pub across the street, and a shop down the lane. He fixed the names in his mind. He turned the other way. The name of the town printed neatly on the public library's sign. Wonderful.
Harry nodded. He needed to go back. Now.
A spectral hand reached over his shoulder and grasped at the air there. He turned and wrenched himself away.
"Who is there?" Asked a nasty voice. "Who are you, my little spy?"
Harry stood in terror, Voldemort was still writhing in pain on the bed, but he was also at the window, reaching blindly for him.
Harry forced himself to back away. He looked around for something to save himself. A fine silver thread trailed from his back off the way he had come. He took a hold of it in his hand and willed himself back along it.
Harry jerked awake, panting. "Severus. I know where Voldemort is. We must move quickly."
Sev stood; his book fell unnoticed to the floor.
"We have to see Dumbledore now." He pulled Harry up from the couch propelled him to the door. "You can tell me about it there. There is no time to waste. I never should have let you sleep anywhere without your talismans for protection."
Harry was taken aback by the rough treatment, but Sev was taking him where he wanted to go, so he did not protest. They practically ran through the halls.
They stopped at the Staff Room. Dumbledore was still there. He was examining his newly knitted socks.
"What is it, Severus?" He asked, looking up.
"Harry has had another vision." Sev paused for a shuddering breath. "Go on and tell us about it, Harry. Sit over here."
Sev and Harry sat near Dumbledore.
Harry described his dream in all the detail he could remember. He related the place names he had memorized as well as the general directions he thought he had traveled.
"Excellent, Harry." Dumbledore said when he was done. "However, I must impress upon you the danger you were in."
"Believe me, I felt it." Harry said, wincing. "I don't think I will ever forget it."
"I want you to carry one of your dream filtering talismans with you from now on, Harry." Dumbledore said gently. "We will set up lessons in Dream Walking, but for now, while things are so dangerous…" He trailed off.
"I understand." Harry said, he looked at Sev who seemed to have relaxed some.
"I must go." Dumbledore said, he stood, and then looked down at Severus. "Was Harry successful in removing the Mark?"
"Yes." Sev said.
"Do you think that was why Voldemort was ill?" Harry asked. "I mean backlash or something?"
They were all silent for a few moments.
"I believe that is a distinct possibility, Harry." Dumbledore said slowly. "I must go now. Do try to sleep in your own bed from now on."
"Yes, sir." Harry said meekly.
Dumbledore gathered up his things and left.
Harry and Sev looked at each other for several long minutes.
"I was frightened, Sev." Harry said.
"I'm sorry, I should have known better than to let you sleep unprotected."
"No, it wasn't your fault." Harry looked away and put his hands into his pockets. His hand encountered Della's letter book. "Oh, I have something I want to give you. I went through Della's things this morning." Harry pulled the book from his pocket.
"Is that what I think it is?" Sev asked. "The book where Della recorded our courtship?"
Harry nodded. "More than that. She put in all your letters from when you were separated too."
"But the book was full." Sev said. "She must have added pages." He looked up from the book, seeming slightly panicked. "You read the whole thing?"
Harry nodded. "She left it to me. I don't want to keep it, though. I think you should have it." He held out the little book. "She answered your letters."
Sev's mouth hung open. He stared at the book in his son's hand. He swallowed. Then he reached out and took the book. "Thank you, Harry." The tears that glistened in his eyes did not fall.
Harry looked away awkwardly.
Sev opened the book and flipped through, looking at all the pasted in envelopes. "I…" He stopped again.
"She loved you," Harry said. "I know she did."
After an uncomfortably long silence, Harry's stomach growled audibly. "I'm starving. Is it lunchtime yet?"
*****
A/N – So, I'm winding this story to a close sometime soon. (still at least 5 chapters or so to go) If you review, please mention any obvious loose ends that I still need to tie off.
I must say, this has been great fun.