A/N: Sorry for the long delay and the fact that this chapter is a little shorter than usual. Believe me, that is not what I had planned. However, I thought it would be better to update at least a little bit instead of letting you hang in thin air much longer.

Please, be patient with me. It's not that much longer until the bubble bursts.

And could please someone tell me where I can find a time turner? *sigh*

Chapter 23: The long way home

Harry felt numb. This was just too much for anyone to take and definitely more than he had ever wanted to see. This had to end. Now. It just wasn't right.

He remembered what it was like to be under Legillimens, the feeling of being thrown back in time and into a situation of which you knew the outcome - without any chance to interfere. You were not a spectator. It was nothing like watching a memory in a Pensieve. You were actually there again, feeling what you felt at the time, thinking what you thought, dreading, hoping and wishing for the same things.

What was taking place here was torture and he couldn't just stand by and let it happen, not anymore.

Before the others could stop him he had slipped out from under the invisibility cloak and stepped down into the hallway. Behind him he heard Hermione whispering frantically:

"Are you crazy? Come back under the cloak before they see you! Do you want to …?"

Her voice was drowned out into muffled noises as obviously one of the two hidden Weasleys covered her mouth with a firm hand or another adequate tool.

Mrs. Weasley was the first to spot him.

"Harry!"

Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes opened wide in shock. The others turned their heads or swivelled around to stare at him disbelievingly. Inside the bubble Snape was facing an extremely angry Voldemort.

"Stop this", Harry demanded. His voice was shaking as was the hand with which he pointed towards the images flashing in the air between Dumbledore and the Potions Master.

"Please, make it stop."

His eyes flew from Mr. Weasley to Lupin. He hated the pleading tone of his own voice, hated himself for not being able to do anything more but appealing to the others' sense of compassion.

"How can you watch this?"

Lupin stared at him, apparently unable to speak. Tonks busied herself with wiping tears from her face, doing her best to avoid his eyes. Mrs. Weasley started several sentences but never got any further than "We …, you see …." 

Mr. Weasley finally drew himself up, walked over to Harry and rested a hand on his shoulder, blocking the bubble from the boy's view.

"Knowing you I assume you have been watching for quite a while. Then you must have heard what I said before: We can't risk interfering. We don't know what it will do to either of them."

"That's not what you said", Harry snapped, taking a step to the side, consequently avoiding Mr. Weasley's hand and facing the rest of the assembly again.

"You said you weren't sure what was going to happen. You said it might be risky. But how can this NOT be dangerous? How can this NOT be painful?"

He was shouting now and he heard the blood rushing in his own ears. The others flinched – all apart from Dumbledore and Snape who seemed totally unaware of anything that was going on outside the bubble.

"Harry, there is nothing we can do to stop this", Mr. Weasley repeated, this time careful not to touch the enraged teenager. His voice was calm and soothing.

"Believe me, none of us feels comfortable. We know that it's wrong. But we are here and this is the situation."

Behind them, inside the bubble, masked and hooded shadows swarmed out, slithering through dark and deserted streets, laying fire, shooting blinding flashes of lightning at fleeing figures. Cries and whimpers were answered by the sound of cruel laughter. One of the shadows was bent double and retched.

Harry blinked tears away, tears of rage as well as disappointment.

"But why are you watching?"

His voice seemed small and insignificant even to himself.

"Well, it would be a crying shame not to make some good out of this situation", Moody declared with a hint of bewilderment. He was about to make another, probably equally inappropriate remark when Bill Weasley silenced him with an icy look. The eldest of the Weasley children stared at Harry pointedly and asked:

"And why are you watching?"

I'm not, Harry wanted to shout. I'm standing here, trying to make you stop this madness.

However, he found his eyes darting towards the bubble again and with a sharp pang of guilt he realized that he wasn't any better than the rest of them. Just a little more naïve. And maybe a little more self-righteous.

With staggering steps Severus Snape was moving towards the entrance door of the castle that held Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His dark robes were dirty and torn and stood in sharp contrast to his pale face. The black eyes were bloodshot and seemed to have trouble focussing. He was clearly way past drunk.

Upon reaching the huge oaken door he raised an unsteady fist and started hammering against the painted wood rhythmically. His forehead rested against the door, vibrating slightly with every thundering thud. When the door was opened a couple of minutes later he nearly crushed into the entrance hall, instead falling into the unprepared arms of an extremely surprised Argus Filch.

Mumbling half-hearted obscenities and slapping the young man's face roughly with one hand the caretaker managed to bring some sense back into Snape. Carefully the wizard drew himself up, doing his best to look dignified while swaying on the spot, and declared in a low and steady voice:

"I have come to see the Headmaster."

Albus Dumbledore looked slightly dishevelled. He wore nightgowns of blue wool, enchanted to show bouncing sheep that raced each other along the seams. An equally coloured and decorated nightcap rested askew on a wild mane of white hair. He took off his spectacles to rub his eyes and then gazed thoughtfully at the younger man in front of him.

Snape and the headmaster were facing each other beside the fireplace in Dumbledore's office. They were both sitting in huge armchairs and each of them held in his hand a steaming mug. Dumbledore took careful sips from his own while Snape kept staring at the warm liquid. There were dark rings under his eyes and his hands were scratched and bruised.

"I should never have let you stay with them."

Dumbledore's voice was full of regret and a tinge of self-loathing. Snape sighed, but didn't respond.

"I should have insisted on you staying here, with us. With me."

The younger man's eyes finally met his.

"It was not like that in the beginning. I felt safe there. I felt home."

Long fingers turned the mug round and round.

"I really can't remember when it all went out of control. All those travels, all those places and people …. "

He stared blankly into the fire.

"When I came back everything had changed. They were talking about war, not revolution anymore. They spoke of revenge instead of justice…"

His voice trailed off. Suddenly he started tugging at his left sleeve frantically, not bothering to open the buttons. With a sharp little sound the cloth ripped and revealed a glistening black mark on the pale skin, framed and covered by angry red cuts where someone obviously had tried to scratch the ugly tattoo off. Snape's voice was calm when he spoke again; his eyes, however betrayed him.

"There is no way back now. And I … I don't even know why I came here."

Dumbledore didn't move. His eyes searched the younger man's face thoroughly and he hummed a quiet and soothing little melody under his breath.

"I should go", Snape murmured and raised himself on unsteady legs.

The headmaster cocked his head and looked up at him.

"And where will you go to?"

The younger man sighed and his shoulders slumped down ever so slightly.

"Back, I guess. It's not like there is anywhere else I could go."

In a flutter of feathers and colour Fawkes came soaring into the room, showering the scene with tiny sparks of lightning. With a contented screech the bird landed on Snape's shoulder.

Dumbledore looked at the two of them and smiled.

"Home is a place where you are always welcome, Severus. No matter when you come. Or from where. Or how long it has been since your last visit. Come home, boy."

Tears were welling up in the younger wizard's eyes and a shudder ran through his thin body, causing the phoenix to adjust its weight slightly.

"You don't just leave the service of the Dark Lord", he managed to press out through clenched teeth. He was visibly fighting not to let his desperation take over.

"Once you have sworn to be loyal to him there is no other way but to obey. If the alternative was death, I might be willing to consider it."

Here Dumbledore's frown deepened and he looked at Snape sharply. He didn't interrupt, however, and Snape was too concentrated on not losing his composure to notice.

"I have seen those who tried to leave him. I have seen what he did to their families, to their friends, before he turned on them. I do not have the right to endanger the only people who ever cared for me."

Finally his voice broke. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he didn't bother to wipe them away. Gently he placed the bird on its customary bar beside the chaotic desk and turned to face the headmaster again. To his surprise the older man was standing right behind him, wearing a serious expression on his normally so gentle face.

"Help me to fight him, Severus."

The blue eyes sparkled in the dimly lit room and seemed to mesmerize Snape.

"Help me to turn him into nothing more than a faint memory. He is the evil that poisons our world, that poisons even young and brilliant minds like your own. He turns people into monsters and passion into bigotry."

Dumbledore was radiating an inner fire that seemed to burn the young man's face. His voice pierced ear and heart alike and left the listener defenceless and numbed.

"Severus, you do have a choice. I give you a choice."

In the fireplace a large piece of wood burst into flame, filling the room with a crackling sound a fresh wave of heat.