Paradise Found

Soul Dust

Disclaimer: see before!

Summary: see before!

Jean-Claude: ooh thanks for continuing to read! Snape's reaction to two 'brats'? hehe, that's next chapter, you'll have to wait!!! Aren't I evil. It's my muse's fault! Bad Cafal! You are the one who put it after this chapter. Oh shut up.

Asha Ice: well, mute replyquiet reply. I suppose you cant really have a MUTE mute reply, but its not actually mute, catch my drift? Gosh I sound really stupid... :-)

A Reader: thanks! You'll have to wait for 'the-greasy-bastard's reaction till next chappi!

Now on with the story!

Chapter 5: Truth hurts.

Harry Potter walked down a narrow and dark street, unsure of where he wanted to go. He feels rejected and alone. With Hedwig gone, he seems more on his own than usual. The Knightbus, he decided, would be too much for him. He didn't want to be recognised like last time he rode on it. He would find a shelter soon, and wait for the cover of darkness, and at night, he would fly on his broom, following the train tracks. He needs some flying so desperately that the more he thought about this idea, the better it seemed. He found an inconspicuous corner in a dark alley and sat down, munching on the last bits of food he scrounged from the house before he left. Slowly, he started to nod off to sleep, as the afternoon is warm and cosy. Suddenly a hiss by his left startled him to full alert, he whipped around in battle mode, wand in hand, only to find himself staring into a pair of emerald eyes that are so like to his own.

"Stupid wizards, they think they just got to attack every snake they see in the world. Old Nagini brought shame to all snake kinds, and that Voldemort kid. Bloody humans. " a pure black snake hissed at itself, clearly annoyed, and tried to slither past Harry.

"Wait! I didn't want to attack you. I just got startled out of my sleep!" Harry said automatically, marvelling how smooth the words came out of his mouth. The snake seemed to have been greatly surprised, it did a queer little twist on its belly, and turned to gaze at Harry with unnerving eyes.

"How did you learn to talk like that, human"

"Long story. Sorry if I looked like I'm trying to attack you. It is self defence really, you know? Be on your guard, constant vigilance. That's what my teacher taught me."

"Then you learned it very well my friend."

Harry winced at how friend sounded like slithering companion. He didn't like that description of himself, made him think of the Slytherins, and Malfoy. Remembering what he heard earlier, he asked cautiously:

"You were talking about Voldemort and Nagini? Are you are friend of Nagini?"

The snake looked almost disgusted at this, and hissed angrily: "She is a disgrace to our kind. We have disowned her."

An old beggar man stood hidden in the shadows, listening to a strange conversation, smiling to himself. His silver hair hung smooth and straight, it swayed gently to the breeze, not lank dirty locks one is accustomed to see on such people. The old man is cloaked and hooded in a shade of darkness, as if a mere absence of light. Not just an ordinary beggar man then, a dignified old beggar man. A pair of ice blue eyes looked over to a boy, a long pale hand clasped firmly onto the black stick he leaned on, and elegant fingers stroked the crystal sphere at the tip, mist spread through his nails. This is the boy he has been trying to find for all those years, the boy who haunted his visions and dreams. He took in the detail before him, slim, tall, dark hairs. Reminds me of someone else I knew. Silently, he walked over to the boy, and laid an old hand on his shoulder. The boy twisted around in alarm, wand held tight in his hands, pointing at the man's heart. The old man just smiled. So like another dark haired boy.

"My dear boy, you are tired. Sleep." The old man gently touched his eyelids, and they began to drop, lower...lower. And they closed. "Dear child, remember your dreams."

Ah the coloured mists and clouds, forever wrap me in your soft drapery. Why my heart does yearn to touch those silver strands? Floating, flying, reaching to the sunset. Silvery blue and green, such beauteous fabrics of night. Suddenly they turn, as if they want to guide me somewhere. They are flying away, I'm falling down ... down ... further and further away from the lovely clouds in front. I reach out as I'm slipping away...am I seeing my future in front of me?

As if in answer, the green mist twisted together to form a ring of silver fire, within the fire, words revealed themselves in forms of elegant emerald letters as a woman's voice spoke to Harry, sweet and soft:

'My dear son. Today is your 16th birthday, is it not? I have a present for you, dear heart. Not an item of celebration, but an offer of knowledge. Knowledge of Truth, of what really happened.

My son, 16 years ago, you were born to us, to your father and me. But your father was not my husband. No. You were conceived before even I was married. But don't blame him for what he did. He did what he had to do to keep me alive.

Harry, your father is Severus Snape.'

Here, the voice faded into a bare whisper, as his mother chanted softly in an alien tongue:

'Iaris totalus maege né ashnêzgul flörialience avon taz bjuearl, nachtalien von gruenendo tel perionn.'

The chanting stopped, an echo floated gently around Harry lulling him into a soft and dreamless sleep. The last words he heard were his mother telling him in her soft sweet voice:

'No matter what was, is, or will be, don't ever forget that I love you, son.'

When Harry woke up again, it was by a sharp, growing pain deep inside him, stirring his very bones. He cried out in shock, only to hear an angry hiss from somewhere beside him. He turned his head around to see who, or what, was the source of the noise, only to find that this motion did nothing but to immobilise his body as effectively as any Body Bind curses, and send a fresh spasm of pain down his back. Soon his body felt like its burning, burning from deathly cold fire. His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Dark purple bruises materialised on his lips where he had bit them to stop himself from screaming. It was a pain beyond that of Cruciatus, Harry writhed and thrashed on the ground, his breath shallow and laboured from the burden of pain. Suddenly a soothing voice chanted in a sing song voice, hardly audible amid the hushed chorus of leaves and branches:

"Now there will be Fire. Fire to burn away the past, Fire to mould the present, Fire to heal the pain, and Fire to bind the future."

And immediately, emerald flames enveloped Harry into their midst. His eyes widened, and he screamed. If it was pain that he felt before, this is beyond pain. His eyes rolled in their sockets and he saw darkness, and now blinding light, and darkness, and light again. It felt as if his very bones and tissues were ripped and clawed off his body, the bones melted, simply melted into a pool of blood formed around him, scarlet and glittering under the sinking sun. Dark green sparks licked his body, singeing the skin they touched, leaving a trail of ashes to mix with the blood. Suddenly the fire died as abruptly as it had begun.

For a while, Harry lay there, trying to get back his breath. He tried to move his head, but found that he was suddenly but a shimmer of silver Dust, hovering some what above his body, or what was his body. He gasped as he saw a pool of thick mush, as that is what it looked like to him. A mixture of ash and blood gathered where his body had been. His ashes and blood. A bell knelled in the distance, and slowly, a silver flame formed and grew, and moulded itself into a silver frame of a boy, not much taller than Harry himself, with mildly wavy hair, high brows which arched elegantly over a pair of slightly feline eyes, long straight nose, and thin, curling lips. His ashes and blood flowed into the frame, and seemed to separate. Bones reformed themselves, and the ashes moulded to form tissues and skin wrapping themselves around the skeletal frame. Gradually the appearance of a boy surfaced from the silver clouds. Dark wavy hair hung loosely around an alabaster complexion, red highlights can be detected as rays of the setting sun fell onto it. Green and red flames danced around the pair, enveloping them both in an oddly comforting ring of fire. Emerald eyes glittered silver lights as they turned onto Harry. Long graceful fingers which he inherited from his father traced the elegant dark brows. Thin lips curled into a soft smile.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know?"

"Tell me who you are."

The boy replied with a silky voice, but the answer Harry seemed to know already, it rings soft and clear in his ears.

"I am you, and you are me."

It was as if they are completing an ancient ritual, the other, the ghostly apparition that was Harry Potter asked with an impassive voice:

"If I am you, and you are me, what is our Destiny meant to be?"

A sad and knowing smile, the other boy held out a hand, the ghostly apparition held out his hand, and unconsciously clasped it tight.

"Death and Darkness, Despair and Longing. The Founding Stone of the Lost Paradise we shall be."

It was then that Harry found that he is being draw into the apparition himself. He fitted perfectly within. The second he entered his new body, black flames danced around him. But this time, he felt no pain. As a matter of fact, he felt joy, and completion. Black flames welded him secure in his body. Soul and body are united once again. The black flames were drawn into a minuscule hollow four pointed star of emerald, which linked through a silver chain. Upon the face of the star was a tiny plaque of black backgrounds, on it was an emerald snake coiled around the beam of a silver balance, its intelligent black eyes glinting sharp light. The necklace simply hung there, waiting for him to pick it up. It was satisfied. Soon, a hand reached out from the shadows and drew it into the shadows, there it lay glinting under the last vestiges of the falling sun. An unearthly voice floated up towards the clouds, carrying with it the last remnants of the dissipated Charm; it welcomed the binding with true delight.

Come and embrace your present, your future. For you are no longer Harry Potter. You are Daedalus Caerulé Snape, Dark Curiosity, and the Heir to the ancient Snape family.

Daedalus Caerulé Snape stepped out of the shadows; his glinting dark eyes fell onto the little ball of scales that was the little black snake he befriended.

In a silky and commanding voice, he hissed to the snake:

"Come, my pet. We will find Father."

An old man smiled to himself as he saw the dark teen leave the streets with the snake coiled firmly around his neck. My task is done, and now I may have rest. His body slowly crumpled into ashes, and scattered free in the air. His soul rose above the heavy atmosphere that is of the mortal world, and headed for the stars above.

tbc

Soul-Dust

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