Author's Notes: This story is a little diddy that's been floating through my mind for a while. I'm writing this for my enjoyment and for the enjoyment of others. I have no aspirations to become a professional writer and view scathing, sarcastic commentary as a sign of mental illness. (In other words, criticism is welcome if it is constructive. If you don't know how to do this, then learn the art as it is perhaps the most lucrative job and social skill one can hone.)
Velze – I had to build out the relationship and background otherwise future elements of the story would not make sense. Most of the story is/will be from Harry's perspective, although I will change specific scenes from time to time. Without the background there wouldn't be the context. Besides, Snape is the primary character, not Harry.
AmZ – Most of your questions will be answered as the story progresses (although I suspect that you've long since discarded this story). It's a complicated situation with Snape – he's treading on an area where he's never treaded before and confuses convenience with affection. Also consider that what we have seen of Snape in JKR's works is what he wants us to see of him. I think that the end of Prisoner of Azkaban we got to see a bit of the 'real' Snape – eager for recognition and accolades. It's that piece I saw that I'm developing further in this story.
Louise – Thanks for the comments. You're right on regarding some things but wrong on others. You'll see…
For the rest, thanks for your comments and encouragement.
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Chapter 15 – Full Circle"With my studies and Quidditch, I do not know how I could fit this in." Harry stood in front of the Headmaster's desk watching the elderly wizard idly take a few notes. "I am quite keen on doing well on my N.E.W.T.s and…"
"Simply two hours a week," Dumbledore interrupted without looking up from his writing. With a free hand he picked up Harry's timetable and held it up into the air. "Two hours is more than enough time and I see a few spots which coordinate with her schedule as well."
"But last time I felt weak. I could barely study afterwards," Harry protested.
"That is because you were not putting in your full effort," Dumbledore countered. "You will find that when the exercises are done properly you are left with a clear, sharp mind. Your problem was that you were too focused on fighting Professor Snape instead of benefiting from the lessons." He put the timetable down and set his hands on the table, lacing his fingers. "You may find Professor Lestrange's temperament somewhat more agreeable, although she does get quite cross if you are slacking off. She is quite a stickler for detail and doing things properly, so I would not try to cut corners with her, as her wrath would probably be as severe as Professor Snape's."
"You are not at all concerned that she would try something? I mean we would be alone," Harry asked.
"I have full confidence that, like Professor Snape, she would never do anything willingly to put you in harm and in fact, if in a bind, I know that she would protect you," Dumbledore said.
"Your trust in her," Harry asked, "Does that have to do with her talent?"
"Indirectly, yes," Dumbledore said. His expression implied that Harry was not to pursue the discussion any further. "I suggest that you simply pursue the lessons and get as much from them as you can. Professor Snape will be teaching her and she, in turn, is to instruct you as well as gain her own practice."
"She will need it for Voldemort," Harry said.
"Yes, she will," Dumbledore said. "Oh, and one last item. She is unaware that I am preparing the interpretation. She was instructed to prepare it without my knowledge; Professor Snape shared the information with us at some risk. She is not to know that you are aware of her abilities or that anyone knows about what happened."
"But why isn't she coming to you?" Harry blurted out, quite confused.
"She has attempted to do so over the past few days," Dumbledore offered. "I have been purposefully 'inconveniently occupied' and unable to talk to her. She has been quite discreet, which tells me something quite important." The Headmaster sighed and shook his head. "Such a complicated ruse, but necessary none the less. I learn more from what is not done or not said that what is done or said."
"That does not make any sense," Harry said.
"Good." The Headmaster stood and waved the boy to the door.
~***~
The early November air was biting and foreshadowed an upcoming frigid winter. Harry could hear the wind blow outside the tower, making him snuggle into his chair even more as he sat in the Gryffindor common room. He was aggressively reading and taking notes, occasionally checking his watch for the time and looking into the fire for both warmth and mental recitation. Although he had placed an alarm spell on his watch, he was unusually anxious. After a few more minutes of studying, he closed his book and leaned his head back, taking a break while clearing his mind.
"If you're up for it," Ron said, as he approached Harry from behind and took the seat next to him, "I thought we'd have an impromptu Quidditch training. Nothing formal, mostly to blow off steam."
"I have to leave in a few minutes," Harry said. "Every Sunday and Wednesday from 3 to 4 pm I have a commitment. I don't think it will interfere, but keep that in mind for the future."
"What are you doing?" Ron asked, curious.
"I cannot tell you that," Harry said, tersely. "I just have something Dumbledore wants me to do and I am bound to keep the secret. Okay?"
"Okay," Ron said, slumping in the chair next to Harry. "You've been just on edge ever since Hermione dragged in that stupid assignment. You're starting to get a bit unbalanced again, like you were last year."
"Well, if you were told that you should be dead and that this whole mess is your fault, then I doubt you'd be chipper!" Harry spat back. He looked at his friend who was scowling. "I'm sorry, it's just…"
"You can't get a break, can you?" Ron said. "For a long time, Harry, I was jealous of all the attention you got and sometimes wished I could take your place. You know, get recognized on the street, able to catch a snitch like you, be a bloody brilliant wizard…"
"Have a group of black-robed psychopaths try to kill you and make your life a living hell…" Harry chimed in. "Oh, and speaking of living hell, there are the Dursleys. Did you know that I have to go back to them over Christmas? Dumbledore wants to reinforce the 'magical bond' and give it a little boost for the spring, I suppose." Harry closed his eyes. "I was really hoping to spend time at the house in Hogsmeade with Remus and Buckbeak and maybe, if your parents approved, some at the Burrow."
"Well, it's those parts where I've decided that I like being plain old Ron," Ron grinned. "Seriously mate, I'd forget about it. Snape probably put her up to it, to mess with you." He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.
"There's a lot more to it," Harry said. "I wish I could go into it, but I don't think it was a trick. Speaking of tricks, Remus and I were talking the other day…the early morning after Halloween… there was an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting."
"Really?" Ron said, leaning forward, happy that Harry was sharing some tidbits. "What happened? Ok, I know you can't say, but how's Remus?"
"Remus is doing Okay," Harry said. "He asked about Lestrange and the Boggart. I told him what happened. Well, most of it. I didn't tell him about seeing Snape and some other kid all tore up."
"Some other kid?" Ron said. "You never mentioned…"
"The form changed quickly to that of another boy," Harry said. "I did not recognize him."
"Oh," Ron said, motioning with his hand for Harry to continue.
"He said that that night always bothered him. He sensed that something else was going on—that things didn't add up. Sirius got off with just a ton of detention and my Dad received an award. He thought that it was just a cover-up by Dumbledore to help save him; but there was always something else, a passing thought or emotion, that made him think something terrible did happen."
"So what you're saying is that Lestrange did see something and Dumbledore covered it up? If Remus tore Snape limb to limb and Lestrange saw that – and assuming he did survive it -- Snape would probably be a werewolf himself as a result. You know that isn't true." Ron added, "No, he's not a werewolf… something else… maybe, but not a werewolf." Ron trailed off as he saw Hermione enter the common room. Seeing she was laden with books, he bolted up to help her. The couple approached Harry and Hermione sat down, exhausted.
"Long day?" Harry asked. "Sunday is supposed to be a 'day of rest."
Hermione smiled and fished a letter out of the stack of books, parchments and other items. "Just doing some research. I was meaning to open this, but just did not get around to it. Judging from the size, I guess my request was denied."
"What was denied?" Harry asked.
"I made an informational request from the Ministry of Magic for my Charms project," Hermione said. "I am doing a report on Time Turners."
"How they work?" Harry asked.
"No, mainly uses and ethics," Hermione said. "Examining the current laws and how the devices were applied in the past. Most of the available data is regarding students; the most common use—or one deemed 'safe with appropriate protocols' is for taking additional classes." She picked up a letter and opened it. "I wrote the Ministry to request information about who, in the past two centuries, were allowed to use time turners, their use, duration, and any other particulars. I hope this is the list, but I think they have panned the request." She sliced open the letter and took out the papers. It was obvious that whoever sent the information used a charm to wizard-size the envelope as the number of papers far exceeded the capacity of the envelope. Hermione smiled as she pulled out a huge stack of paper and neatly laid the pile on her lap. "Well that certainly is a pleasant surprise." She added, "During my research I found out that Dumbledore was quite instrumental in revising the laws surrounding the use of Time Turners. Aside of the main laws written in 1704 – a bit before Dumbledore's time, the last major updates were in 1904, 1944 and 1958. Dumbledore chaired the committees in 1944 and 1958. Once I do a bit more background work, I will see if he has time for an interview." Picking up the papers, she began to read.
"Well, what does it say?" Ron asked.
"The most recent 10 years or so of data is still confidential and are not included," she said. "They have 1985 and earlier. I see the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes used the devices most-- mainly when a major accident occurred. I suppose it would be more effective to briefly go back in time to 'stop' the accident instead of trying to reverse the memories of a thousand or so Muggles. Required a signed court order. Hmm… interesting…"
"What?" Harry asked.
"Some have received permission when doing magical experiments," she said. "It says here: 'In very limited cases, and with advance approval, a researcher in Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, or other magical related functions may see permission for use of a Time Turner. If given, the Time Turner is to be used by a partner, in a safe location, so that the wizard or witch may observe the experiment and reverse time should the experiment go awry. This would prove a safety-net to support necessary, but often dangerous, magical research or research involving very rare, or expensive, potions ingredients to ensure appropriate government thrift."
"Too bad Neville didn't know about this," Ron said, "We could have signed a petition for him to use this in Potions class."
"You are not being kind," Hermione said, lowering the paper she was reading. "And, I daresay that there were a few times where you could have benefited as well." She flipped through a few more pages. "The rest are student or faculty uses. Not very many mind you, and mainly for a specific project, not for a whole year."
"That's because you're special, Hermione," Harry laughed.
She perused through a few more pages. "Let's see. Oh, here it is. 'Hogwart students with year-round privileges.' Used exclusively for taking extra classes when there was a scheduling conflict."
"See anyone we know?" Ron asked.
"Bartemius Couch, Jr.," Hermione said. "Used the Time Turner during fourth year. Disengaged from use April, 1975. Reason: Time Turner broken."
"The idiot broke it?" Ron laughed. "More than likely some Slytherin swiped it, used it and somehow broke it. I wouldn't break the thing, I'd have too much fun with it."
"That is probably why they would turn down your application," Hermione said. "They are to be treated with respect, not like a toy."
"Any others?" Harry asked.
"No one I recognize. Wait," Hermione set the page on the table and sat back. "Tom M. Riddle."
"Voldemort!" Harry hissed, quickly lowering his voice.
"From his second through his sixth year," Hermione said. "Received 18 OWLS…" she looked at Harry and then Ron in turn; they all were quite surprised. "He must have never slept."
"Or used the turner to get some sleep," Ron interjected. "That would be my main use. And rearranging Snape's supply closet."
"Excuse me," Hermione said, "Is that a Prefect Badge on your robes?"
"A guy can dream a little, can't he?" Ron said to Hermione teasingly. "Heh, all you could think to do was save a guy's life."
"Saved all of our lives really," Harry said. "We would have been Dementor food for sure. It's scary," Harry continued, slipping down into the seat some more, "that we, or at least I, should have died that night."
"Harry," Hermione said, closing her eyes. "The clarification was not about you. Okay, happy now?" Seeing the boys simply stare at her, she sighed. Changing the subject back, she said, "Says here that Riddle was forced to turn in the time turner, as per instructions from the Council of Time and Matter, headed by Albus Dumbledore. All uses of the time turner were suspended due to investigation. It seems that Riddle…"
"Used the time turner to murder his first victim and then covered it up?" Ron finished the sentence.
"No," Hermione said. "Used it to… I don't believe this… saved several lives, but later was reprimanded for taking the Time Turner with him over the summer."
"Probably used it over the summer to kill his family and then go back in time to secure his alibi," Harry said. "Does it say who he saved?"
Hermione flipped through the paper. Attached were copies of a few relevant old Daily Prophet articles. Whoever sent this to her was quite thorough. She scanned the article and the photo and passed it along, "Lucretia Malfoy. Seems she and her brother, Lucifer, were on the Slytherin Quidditch team. The two got into a little tiff and he cursed a Bludger to go after her. The first time around the thing crushed her skull."
"Lovely," Harry said, cringing. Being a victim of a runaway Bludger himself, he could sympathize with the situation. Summarizing for Ron, he said, "Says here that Riddle, a sixth year Chaser, was present when Lucifer Malfoy, a seventh year and Slytherin Seeker, cursed the Bludger and sent it at his sister, Lucretia, who was a fifth year Keeper. At first, the rest of the team thought it was a prank, but it was apparent that Lucifer's curse was very potent. The team tried to stop the Bludger and a few students who were watching went for help. The girl was stuck on the head with such force that…" Harry grimaced. "The Daily Prophet did not leave much to the imagination back then." Clearing his throat, he continued, "Radagast Lestrange, enraged, pursued Lucifer in a broom chase and the two ended up falling several hundred feet to their deaths. Riddle, seeing this, decided to use the Time Turner, went back and hour, and managed to body bind Lucifer in the Slytherin Changing room."
"You need witnesses for something like this," Ron said.
Harry held up his hand, "The story was corroborated by the Head Girl, Minerva MacDougal, who stated that she saw two Tom Riddles at the same time. One flying around the Quidditch pitch with the rest of his teammates chasing a rogue Bludger while the other Tom Riddle was running towards the dungeons. Both she and Riddle were interrogated under Veritaserum."
"Do you think that was McGonagall?" Harry asked, looking up. Seeing his friends nod in agreement, he continued. "Melkor Lestrange and Thuban Malfoy both issued statements; 'Both the Lestrange and Malfoy families owe an enormous debt to Mr. Riddle. If it were not for his actions, two of Europe's oldest pureblood wizarding families would have ended with this tragedy. Our families owe Mr. Riddle debt which shall be honored generations to come – our bloodline owes our very existence to him and our loyalty and appreciation shall not know any bounds."
"And thus," Hermione said, shaking, as she took the article back from Harry, "began the Death Eaters."
~***~
"It has been years…" Lestrange walked around the room. "Of course it looks a bit different than last time." The witch had apparently just returned to the castle as took off her scarf and cloak which were soaked from the rain. Harry watched as the witch conjured a rack and laid the items on it. With a quick flick of her wand, he heard a very soft sizzling sound as the items dried. Harry noted that she took after McGonagall in her dress. Lestrange wore a conservative gray and black dress that lacked the explosion of color or eclectic designs favored by most of the faculty. Like McGonagall, her hair was tied into a neat bun and her long fingers were well manicured, sporting a very light pink polish. She wore simply jewelry; a silver snake on a light silver chain, a small silver women's wristwatch that looked ancient and quite valuable, a silver pin that was made up of miniature coat of arms. All the pieces, save for a ring on her left hand, were understated and tidy. The ring, Harry could not help but notice as it seemed so out of place, was a large emerald circumscribed by smaller diamonds sat on her demure hand. It reminded him, in an abstract way, of Trelawney's glasses – large and almost comical.
"The room changes to suit ones needs," Harry said, walking over to a simple, but sturdy, bookshelf that was stacked with books about Occlumency and Legumency. Aside from the bookcase and two comfortable looking chairs that faced one another was a small table with a basic medi-kit and, over in the corner a wide tall object, or objects, was covered with a tarp.
"Hmm," the Professor replied as she studied the room. "A bit different than before. Well, imagine that, it is still here."
"What's that, ma'am?" Harry asked, eager to find a suitable spot to break the ice. "I take it that you have been in here before?"
"You were not the only one who has ever come up with the idea to teach 'secret' classes." She tapped a small crack on the wall, "I sent a classmate sailing into this. Headfirst. Hurt the wall far more than he –" She stopped abruptly and then felt the crack on the wall with her fingers. Harry watched the somber expression on her face, the bittersweet memories for a brief instant getting the better of her. "Anyhow," she said quickly, dropping her hand and walking over to the tall, tarp-covered object. "Unless the Headmaster needs storage, I would surmise this is something we need, yes?" Not waiting for an answer to her rhetorical question, she reached up with her left hand, while her wand was firmly fixed in her right, as she waved her left hand with a single fluid motion.
"No Boggarts," Harry said, looking around. The tarp removal, he guessed, she did with the wave of her hand, saving her wand magic for something more potent or unexpected. His eyes then locked on the exposed objects – twin mirrors – one he recognized immediately. "The left one is the Mirror of Erised – it is an enchanted mirror," he offered.
In a quick second, Harry could feel himself being pulled and he instantly transported to a different part of the room at an oblique angle to the mirrors and with the witch between he and them. The sudden, unexpected movement made his stomach churn, but it was no worse than a very quick turn during a Quidditch match.
"What do they do?" Lestrange asked, still facing the mirrors, ensuring their reflection was found in neither.
"The one shows ones hearts deepest desires," Harry said with a sigh. "It doesn't really do anything to you, but Dumbledore has warned me that viewing it can consume you and if you let it, it can drive you mad. That, I suppose, makes it dangerous."
"Most enchanted mirrors – including a few intended for everyday uses – normally are quite dangerous. You never know what they can do, or who may be looking back. My uncle had a mirror that captures Muggle-borns. The moment their image is caught, they disappear from our world and enter the mirror one," Lestrange said. "It used to hang in their main receiving room, but with the influx of Muggle-borns into influential positions, Lucifer found that capturing politicians in this manner made one not only a poor host, but under suspect for meddling with Dark Arts. He gave it to his son, my cousin, and I could only guess its use and whereabouts now." She carefully approached the left-hand mirror and studied it. "Erised… Desire as it reflects in the mirror. Now the other…" She looked at the second, again, making sure that her image appeared in nether, "I would assume it is its twin. All mirrors have an equal, or opposite, depending on how you would look at it, although not necessarily, it is believed, both exist in our plane. Some say that there is an entire room in the Department of Mysteries devoted simply to mirrors and their study. Their magic is quite powerful. It is said that when you look in a mirror, you are looking at your other self. Some say that self is your complete opposite while others say that self is you as you are in this plane, but simply following a different course in life. Where you turned left, they turned right, but the Fates weave their tapestries so tight that at the same precise moment you look in the mirror, they look back."
"And if you die in this world, you die in the other," Harry said, following the logic to some conclusion.
"Probably," Lestrange said simply. "My great-grandfather told me once when I was a child that there was an ancient superstition that vampires are the result of ones counterpart dying in the parallel world. We are connected, he said, that our souls are bound by an invisible force and our parallel lives gives us some sort of anchor. When one side lives without another, it is said that their souls become unstable – cursed if you will – and as such they cannot see their reflections." She sighed, "Of course, we know now that not just vampires cannot see their reflection, sometimes some of their victims, so I suppose the yarn is not true. Interesting, but not one to take seriously, I suppose." Lestrange then studied the second mirror, the one Harry had never seen before. It, like Erised, was tall and made with an ornately carved frame. But it was far darker and foreboding and he instinctively knew that there was something wrong. "Its name must be 'Nioserva,' Lestrange pronounced. "Let's see, if it follows the same pattern as its twin, "Gaze upon me to look into the abyss; nightmares and fears that fuel your Adversion.'"
"I prefer Erised," Harry said, but Lestrange did not answer. "I wonder why they are here?" He paused for a few moments and looked at Erised longingly. "Ma'am, since you are here and the mirror is not one that sucks people into it, would it be possible for me to…" Harry motioned to the mirror. "Just for a few moments."
Lestrange looked at Harry and nodded. "Keep away from the other. I will questions Dumbledore about it later."
Harry walked up to the mirror and watched as his parents came into view and then Sirius. He placed his hand on the glass, gently touching his mother's face and then looked at Sirius. Sirius didn't look drawn or disheveled, but healthy and handsome, as if the years of Azkaban were simply a figment of his imagination. "I am so sorry Sirius," Harry said. "Forgive me." He stood for a few moments wordlessly looking at the mirror, stroking his hand gently against the glass.
"Mr. Potter," a voice came from behind him. He felt a tug on his robe. He turned to watch the witch regarding him. Her expression tempered and he could not guess what she was thinking, but it was apparent that her patience was running thin. "We should begin this sometime. I am not willing to stay past four."
Harry nodded and stepped away, heading for one of the chairs. Noticing that Lestrange was not immediately following, he paused and turned. "Maybe you would like to try it? I can pull you away after a few minutes."
Lestrange looked back at him, her gray eyes meeting his green for a second. She took a couple of quick steps and a quarter turn to fully face the mirror.
"It is said that the happiest man in the world would only see himself and nothing else," Harry said.
"That is because there is nothing else he would desire," Lestrange said softly. Harry watched as her eyes darted as she scanned the mirror and then she laughed. It was a high-pitched laugh, dripping with regret. "Worse would be someone having exactly what they've always desired in real life, yet still seeing it in the mirror." She turned to Harry and walked towards him, "The old adage of 'be careful of what you wish for' is indeed quite true. You can receive what you desire, but sometimes that journey accompanies deep sorrow." Taking the seat across from the boy, she asked, "How is Sirius Black?" When Harry balked, she said, "I heard you asking for forgiveness."
Harry turned slightly red realizing that he exposed a secret to someone quite willing, he surmised, to use it against him. "I know that it isn't him and I know that one cannot really talk to the dead. But it did give me some closure," Harry explained.
"Well some closure helps to quell the mind and focus at the task at hand," Lestrange said as she looked at the mirror. "For me, I believed it raised more issues which I must learn to control. Then, perhaps, there is some reason they are here." She looked at the boy and then gently touched her cheek. Harry could barely see the remnants of the Dementor claws on her face, healed but some fading marks remained. "I understand that you have taught others to form solid Patronus?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, confused at the direction this was going.
"Then perhaps we can strike a bit of a deal?"
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