Disclaimer: None of those associated with Hogwarts and its environs are my property (beyond paying for the books, of course). I am merely playing with JKR's toys and promise to return them unharmed. Well, maybe a little singed, but that can't be helped.
Warning: This story contains gigantic, humungous spoilers of HBP. If you haven't read it, what are you waiting for? Go and read something by a real author.
Oh, and this particular plot device isn't that original, either. I haven't seen it in fanfiction, though… see the final A/Ns for details.
ooOOoo
Harry hadn't realised he'd covered his face until Fawkes was sitting on his shoulder, preening his hair. Shaking, he lowered his hands, careful not to move too fast and unbalance the phoenix. Fawkes wasn't heavy, but he was big. Harry had always considered the bulk mainly feathers, but now that the phoenix was in such a bad condition (even worse than the first time he'd seen it) he could see how odd that light weight was. Harry should have been staggered when the bird landed on him, both be the weight and the heat the phoenix always radiated. But instead the bird was no heavier than Hedwig, and the heat the bird put out only comforted him. Under the light of the globe the tarnished gold tail-feathers seemed to ripple with heat rather than wind. Crouching, the bird's head was still higher than Harry's. "Fawkes," he whispered again. "Why have you returned?"
Fawkes was steaming under the occasional rain drop. And his eyes were ancient now that Harry could see them up close. For a moment he'd thought he was looking into Snape's eyes for the first time again: dull, black eyes that made all the hairs prickle up the back of his neck. But when Harry looked deeper he saw that they held an infinite sadness and… and something else Harry couldn't name. A burden, perhaps, but not one that was unworthy of a phoenix.
The phoenix gave Harry's messy hair a final, affectionate sweep with its beak and hopped down onto the dolmen, where it perched on Snape's corpse. The phoenix looked up at Harry one last time and Harry, who was never sure later if it was the tilt of the phoenix's head or the steam rising from its ragged, drooping feathers, turned and ran for his life.
He dived through a crack in the surrounding stones and was just rolling behind a small boulder when there was a huge WHUMPH!
A pillar of fire roared into the sky.
The light of the fire reflected gold off the low clouds, lighting up the world with a light that was both softer and stronger than lightning could ever be.
And when it died, something in Harry died, too.
He'd seen Fawkes on a burning day before. He'd seen him burn. But this volcanic, promethean heat that burned the rain before it fell from the clouds wasn't something he could expect from Fawkes.
Just how much had Fawkes missed his master?
He knew he needed to get the hell out of this place. He knew that it was stupid to go back.
He knew any self-respecting Death Eater would be coming to investigate the source of the fire.
He knew he shouldn't be crawling back through the crack in the rocks.
He knew he shouldn't be expecting anything.
He knew…
He didn't know what he knew, but he found it.
He heard it first: a high, thin wail that died away to a gurgle followed by a slightly more robust cheeping.
Then he saw it in the dying light of Snape's lightglobe.
Them.
Ash swirled around the newly-hatched chick and the baby so young its umbilical cord was still shrivelling at its navel. Some of the ash was picked up in the wind and drifted over the baby's face.
Frightened it would choke the baby, Harry stumbled forward and picked up baby and chick. He wiped the ash away from the baby's face as gently as he could considering how badly his hands were trembling, and noticed in passing that the eyes were a pale, milky blue. That was weird. For a minute he'd thought Snape had been somehow reborn. But if it wasn't Snape, then where the hell had this baby come from? He tucked both babies carefully into his robes, leaning over to shelter them from the rain that was now coming in fits and starts. One drop hit him straight in the ear hole and he winced and pulled a face.
"Now that looks familiar," drawled a voice.
Stepping out from the crack in the rock, the Death Eater pulled back his hood to show a head of smooth, platinum hair.
Harry wasn't surprised when the mask came down to reveal the face of Draco Malfoy.
ooOOoo
Draco's wand stayed pointing steadily at Harry. Harry, who had frozen, knew that if he moved it was likely Malfoy would hex the baby and Fawkes. Malfoy's face was even colder with hate than that day on the train when he'd broken Harry's nose. Maybe he hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore, but the odds were good he'd find it within himself to kill Harry.
Harry couldn't allow that. Especially not now that he had news to share with the world. He tightened his arms. It wasn't much, but the baby began to whimper.
"Lightning shouldn't reach so low in these parts," Malfoy said, just loud enough to be heard over the wind. "And it shouldn't strike in the same place over and over… and then… and then I don't know what the hell that light was meant to be." Draco's pale lips thinned. "What the hell did you do to him?" he hissed.
"I…" Harry gaped at the sheer injustice of the universe.
Then he gaped at the sheer impossibility of the universe as Draco's eyes widened and went blank and a second hooded, masked figure stepped out from behind him
Impossibility piled on impossibility as the new Death Eater pulled back his hood and – no, Harry realised: her hood. Long, pale hair flickered in the dim globe light and whirled up and around in the wind like the flame of a candle. And when pale, elegant fingers reached up to take the mask, Harry whispered, "Mrs Malfoy, what a surprise. I suppose it shouldn't be, but it is."
Narcissa nodded as she tucked her mask into her robes. Despite her hair flowing around her face and shoulders, she wasn't distracted and kept her wand trained on Harry. "Mr Potter." A flick of her wand put up a transparent cover that kept out the rain. As soon as the wind dropped, her hair fell back into place like the finest silk. Harry might have envied her that trick, but he was too busy trying to work out what his choices were.
He chose to be polite, but had barely opened his mouth when he was turned to stone. He could only hope it wasn't literally, as the spell was non-verbal. "Sorry, Draco," she said softly, stroking her son's head. Still mesmerised by another spell Harry hadn't heard, Draco didn't blink as his mother put her wand to his head and spooled out a strand of silvery memory. It coiled into her hand and she tucked that, too away in her robes. "But I can't let you remember this. Not yet. Later, perhaps… I'll keep it safe for later." Then, with a wave of her wand, the baby (but not Fawkes) was levitated over to Narcissa.
Held in place by her immobilising spell, Harry could only watch and fume.
For a moment she lost her arrogant disdain for the world and smiled down wryly at the baby, who screwed up his own face. "Severus," she sighed. "Even as a baby no-one could call you adorable. Disagreeable, yes, but never adorable." She jounced him gently and looked up at Harry again. If he hadn't been held so solidly, he would have flinched at the cold assessment in her pale eyes. He'd always thought Draco had inherited his eyes from his father and perhaps that was right. Draco, for all his faults, was fairly sane, as was Lucius. But beyond the frozen surface of Narcissa something burned hotter than Fawkes. Confronted with it like this, it wasn't hard to remember that her sister was Bellatrix LeStrange.
Harry really, really didn't want a mind like that digging around in his, especially as she stepped closer and lifted her wand. Last year he'd been on eye level with her, but he must have grown a couple of inches since then. Somehow his extra height didn't make his feel any less intimidated and the skin between his shoulders crawled with cold sweat.
He tried to say "Occlumens" in his mind, but without his wand there was no way to stop the icicle of Narcissa's mind boring into his and then he could feel it and he knew:
Although she kept her own feelings extremely well hidden, she went so deep into his mind that Harry managed to sense from her the faintest wisp that told him someone had at some stage frightened her down to the heart and bone and core of her being. And Harry hoped wasn't himself because that terror had, in turn, royally pissed this woman off.
Krakatoa had nothing on what was seething beneath her calm surface.
She flicked through his memories in an instant and looked down at the baby again with a sigh.
"Ah. So you were the spy. Dear, dear, Severus… What is it with you and ambiguity? Well, that's of no matter now…" She shook her head, bent down and kissed the baby's brow. Then, to Harry's amazement, she flicked her wand and he was free.
"So," she said. "You know."
Harry flexed his elbow, which had locked in position. "I seem to know very little. And that's not Snape – look at the eyes." He'd half-wondered if somehow Fawkes had used Snape's death to resurrect Dumbledore, but the idea was so horrific Harry's mind shied away from it. But where, then, had this blue-eyed baby come from? Narcissa kept calling him Severus and part of Harry desperately wanted it to be true to prove that there was still some balance left in the world. But hope was a dirty trick and Harry had learned it was better to do without it.
Narcissa's lips curved in what could be a smile, but it barely grazed her eyes. "You know the important things. You may not know that a new-born baby has blue eyes, but you know you've just lost a spy."
"It's Snape?"
Narcissa snorted. Elegantly, of course. "Of course. I can feel the last of his signature magic. It's changing fast and soon it will be unrecognisable, but for the next few minutes it remains distinct."
"Give him back."
"No." She smiled.
Now was not a good time to be impolite: Harry forced himself to keep his temper and his terror under check. Strange that he should feel so protective of someone he'd spent the last seven years loathing. It wasn't just because the someone was now a helpless baby. If that helpless baby had been Voldemort, Harry wouldn't have hesitated in stomping it into the ground. Maybe it was because he had one last chance to prove to himself that Dumbledore hadn't been a complete idiot to trust some skinny kid whose main claim to fame was weird scar… or been suicidally wrong to trust implicitly the most in-your-face, day-to-day evil man Harry knew. It was also, perhaps, the last chance Harry had of proving Dumbledore hadn't made cruel decisions lightly. Like the Dursleys. And the miscast Killing Curse.
"Please."
"Still no." Narcissa's face had the controlled intensity of a cat with a half-dead mouse, waiting to see which direction it would twitch in next.
Harry decided to oblige her. Silence might just annoy her, anyway. He decided to dangle a little bait, just to see what the reaction would be. "I… I know most of the Horcruxes are destroyed now."
Distaste thinned her lips back into the expression he was familiar with. "Good riddance to bad Riddle rubbish." Well, that hadn't been the reaction Harry had considered. She reached out and, with a quick twitch of a wand the same colour as her hair, Draco was hidden by a thick black cloud.
"What – are you keeping secrets from your son, now?"
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Don't be impertinent. He's seventeen and thinks he's old enough to rule the world. Not unlike someone I'm talking to right at this very moment. But, like this someone, he's not old enough to cope with the subtleties and work out when someone is a friend and someone is an enemy. Here."
Harry took the baby she gently laid in his arms.
"And close your mouth. There may be no flies, but it's the principle of the thing. I'm going to make a deal with you, young Mr Potter."
"Oh? And what's in it for me?"
"Your life. Now and future."
"You think you could kill me?"
This time the smile did reach her eyes, and Harry didn't like it one bit. It felt like he was at the wrong end of the microscope. "Oh, Harry," she purred, "I know I could kill you. Now that you don't have the seeds of a Horcrux the Dark Lord has just lifted the restriction on Harry-hunting. But I'm hoping this is the moment when you prove you've grown up enough this year to know the difference between an enemy and an enemy who can work with you for a common goal."
"What? Knock off Voldemort?"
The smile widened to show a glimpse of perfect teeth, almost covering her wince at his use of the 'V"-word. It reminded him obscurely of Ginny about to go incandescent with rage. Harry felt his knees tremble, but didn't think it was from fear. What was it about dangerous women that made his knees tremble (but not from fear)? "He threatened my son," she whispered. "Lucius and Draco may covet power, but the only thing in my life that holds any real value for me is my son."
Harry licked his lips nervously, thinking back to the times he'd hexed Malfoy into near oblivion, and cast a glimpse at the pillar of darkness hiding Draco.
"You of all people," Narcissa continued softly and without giving any indication she knew the direction of his thoughts, "should have taught He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that threatening children in front of their mothers can be hazardous for one's health." Her eyes gleamed and Harry decided on the spot that she and her sister Bellatrix definitely had insanity in common. "He threatened my baby and no-one – no-one! – does that. Severus knew that. He knew he had to help me. I think," she said, her eyes narrowing again, but this time with speculation rather than fury as she glanced at the baby who seemed to have fallen asleep in Harry's arms, "I think he did out of genuine affection for Draco, but, Severus being Severus, I expect he saw this coming. And knew you'd need another source of information. Oh, close your mouth," she added irritably as Harry opened it to tell her she must be crazy if she thought he'd trust her in any way, shape or form. "You'll find out soon enough. But," she added, raising a slender finger, "it comes with the price of immunity for myself and Draco. And Lucius, if he doesn't damn himself too irrevocably."
"Not dearest Bella?" Harry kicked himself. But Narcissa only looked at him like he'd said something mildly amusing and might get a pat on the head for his cute little antics.
"I think it would take Merlin himself to extricate her from this mess and she was happy enough embroil Draco up to his neck in this mess. No. I am realistic. And furthermore I need your word that you will do your utmost for Severus. I can only hope Lucius stays in Azkaban a little longer and keeps out of this whole mess, but Draco is not a killer" – Harry had doubts on that one but was pretty sure mentioning them at this time would be pretty bad as the spectrum of bad ideas went – "and I won't allow him to be tried as such. The Dark Lord would have used him to make the next Horcrux if it wasn't for Severus. Draco… he's many things… but he's not a killer."
Harry nodded. "Then, on Draco's life, the information you give myself and those opposing Voldemort will be true and not used for the deceit of myself or those opposing Voldemort."
She smiled. "Spoken like a true lawyer. I believe you've found your calling." She held out her hand.
After readjusting the baby and his opinion on whether she'd just insulted him into "probably not", Harry took it and they shook on it. A small shiver of magic ran up his arm as the bargain was sealed.
"But you can't expect me to believe Draco will help," he said.
Narcissa shook her head. "He has the makings of an Occlumens as great as Severus, but he's still only a boy. He couldn't possibly shield himself against the Dark Lord. And I wouldn't ask him to. I will… take the information from his mind. Discretely. He's not serving the Dark Lord willingly, you know. That makes it all the easier for me. And the Dark Lord will never know." She glanced over at the shrouded form of her son.
Harry could have hexed her and escaped in that moment, but he didn't. "So have you got any information for me now?"
"In nine days the Dark Lord will hold an initiation for new members."
"I… got that much from Snape. But I didn't quite find out where."
"The old Riddle manor. Well, nearby. I think some old house has some significance for him." She made a moue. "You will have to find that out for yourself, I'm afraid."
Harry nodded. "It's where his mum grew up. And he took the locket from his uncle and turned it into a Horcrux." And now it was locked in a box in Sirius' old house… right next to the fake locket Dumbledore had died for.
The baby seemed to sense Harry's dark thoughts, or maybe Harry was simply holding him too tight. He began to cry.
Narcissa gave Harry a look like he was mentally as well as morally challenged and fished around inside the neck of her robes, finally pulling out a long shawl. "Give him to me."
She took the baby and wrapped the shawl around him. It flowed like pearly silk… or like memory in a pensieve. "My grandmother's Pashmina," Narcissa murmured as she tucked the ends of the soft material snug around the baby, who whimpered. "Made from the beards of yetis. Nothing softer, nothing warmer… and never has there been a more expensive nappy," she finished with a genuine smile that put a faint warmth in her alabaster cheeks. "Can you get into the house? The wards will be phenomenally strong. We – the Death Eaters, that is – will have to Apparate through on the strength of our Marks. I'll get what information I can for you from Lucius, but his mail is a little tardy at present. "
Harry, mindful of what he carried in his pocket, nodded. "I'm sure I can arrange something. Try and let me know where all the Death Eaters will be arranged, and what each is capable."
"That, I think I can manage. I'll let you know what else seems pertinent and non-damning for myself or Draco." Another kiss hushed the baby. "Really, Severus; the things I do for you."
She handed the baby back to Harry and tapped Fawkes on the beak. The chick regarded her blearily. "Fawkes, I presume. Hmm. I wonder why Dumbledore didn't…? Never mind. Have you found yourself a new master, then, phoenix?"
"Dumbledore didn't what?"
"Dumbledore should have used the phoenix for himself. But perhaps that part of the legend is true – you can only ask for the regeneration of another, and only if that person is worthy of the phoenix's gift. And that person must have died without expecting the phoenix's intervention. It's an ancient story, Mr Potter – older than wizards, older than speech; and it's the oldest magic of all. Dumbledore… I suppose this is your way of redeeming yourself…" She seemed to have forgotten she was meant to be talking to Harry.
"Avada Kedavra? So it's true…? Snape was dying from it?" Harry didn't know why he should be so relieved at outside confirmation that Snape had chosen a lingering death. It didn't please him for the same reason he would have chosen this morning.
"Yes. Nasty way to go. I expect it came as a bit of a relief," she added casually, as if having borderline-suicidal friends was perfectly ordinary. Harry's mouth tightened. Narcissa didn't appear to notice, or perhaps she did and considered Harry's feelings on the matter unimportant. "I always thought it was final proof of Dumbledore's cruelty. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps Dumbledore did Severus one final favour after all. If so, bless him for it." Her mouth pursed slightly and she trailed her fingertips over Severus' cheek. The baby turned his head towards the touch instinctively, and Narcissa's lips softened as her eyes grew sharper. "If you need anything for him, anything at all, contact me through Gringott's. If you need money for him, you can have what you want. Within reason, of course. Money, Mr Potter, is not the issue. If I wanted a home bought for him I'd do it myself. But he needs loving parents. Ones that need to be open-minded where birds that spontaneously combust from time-to-time are pets, perhaps. See to it."
Did she think Harry was just going to magic them up out of thin air? "I'll do what I can."
Her jaw tightened and ice glittered in her eyes. "Do what is best for him. That is part of the bargain."
"Of course. Um, you may not have noticed, but there is a war on and things are a tad tricky at the moment."
She lifted her chin and regarded him coolly, as if he was too young to attempt sarcasm… especially such poor sarcasm. Considering she'd known Snape, it wasn't surprising she should be a connoisseur. "Which is why I suggest you find him a family off-Isle. Enrol him at Beauxbatons. Not Durmstrang. And definitely not Hogwarts. English he may be, but precious little good it ever did him. Alive and happy I would rather he stay… or become."
Harry nodded formally.
"We are agreed?"
"Yes," Harry replied shortly, becoming annoyed at her haughty manner. "But not because you're going to spy for us. Because…"
"Because you're a Gryffindor and you know when something is owed? Oh, please. Gryffindors have no concept of obligation and payback." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. Bending over the baby to check its face would be protected from the storm, Narcissa Malfoy was so close Harry could smell her perfume.
"As you wish." Harry wasn't in the mood for the old "Gryffindor versus Slytherin" argument. Nor was he in the mood to be patronised by Draco's mum. Although he did have the unsettlingly strong urge to kiss her… just to see if he could and, perhaps, just to see if she would let him.
Dangerous thoughts. If he kissed a snake at least he'd be able to reason it out of biting him for his presumption. And it wouldn't tell Ginny out of spite.
As if he could measure her strength up with a kiss, anyway.
It must have been the perfume.
Narcissa had turned away and the moment (if there had ever been one) was lost. She looked up as lightning turned the world white for the merest twitch of an eye. And she laughed, her voice drowned in the massive following boom of thunder that made the stones tremble and the baby cry.
Harry looked up, too. For a moment he'd thought something could be made out in the shapes. Something… he never did find out what it was. He jiggled the baby, shushing it until it stopped fussing. He peered upwards again, but he'd missed it, whatever it was. The clouds had moved on and the rain pattered on the transparent, magical roof.
But Narcissa seemed to know, and she laughed again, low and melodious, and Harry wondered again how hard she would hex him for kissing her.
"Severus," she said. "Only you would put your Patronus in a storm. How in the world did you manage it, though? I thought lightning went only one way…?"
Harry squinted up at the roiling clouds again. Rain was falling in earnest now, splattering and rolling off the dome Narcissa had put up to protect them. Yes – for a moment there he thought he'd caught it. "What was it?" He had to speak up as the rain was becoming very loud.
"Ah, ah. That was Severus' secret, not mine. Besides, I don't know the proper name of whatever it was and I wouldn't demean it with a description. But I think we need not worry anymore about that little Dementor breeding programme the Dark Lord was working on."
She waved her wand and the black cloud surrounding Draco dispersed. "Remind me to thank your Weasley friends for that one," she mused, her upper lip curling. "Their little joke shop has been ever so useful to me. And, I believe, they were the ones who put that Montague boy in the cabinet… and that boy was later able to tell Draco about how there were two connecting cabinets. So Draco decided perhaps they could bypass the Hogwarts security and, once they were fixed, he was proven right and used the cabinets to get the Dark Lord's forces into the castle. Really, you should thank those boys sometime and remind them that caveat emptor – 'buyer beware' – should, in their case, read caveat venditor – 'purveyor beware'," she smirked nastily, and Harry remembered why he really didn't want to kiss her at all. Then her expression smoothed as she touched her son's cheek, ignoring the muscle that was twitching in Harry's own cheek. It wasn't that she had said something against Fred and George – it was the way she had a point. And the subtle suggestion that blackmail could be used against the Weasleys at a time of her choosing.
If Harry played the situation right, that time would not arise.
"And how are you going to make Draco help us?"
"Like this." And she inclined her head to whisper in her son's ear. Draco's expression didn't change, but he blinked more often.
Narcissa straightened, resting one finger on the top of his head. "Potter jinxed you and escaped as you came in here. You managed to retrieve a smidgen of the ashes" – she took a pinch of the ash on the dolmen and placed it in his shirt pocket – "just enough to prove it was Severus Snape who died here and… oh, yes: Potter shouted something revoltingly trite like 'So end all traitors, ha ha ha' as he ran…"
Harry winced. More that she'd thought he'd say something that clichéd than at the way she'd so casually picked up dust from a dead person.
"… and then I got here, unjinxed you, and we chased Potter to the edge of the anti-Apparition shield. We were just in time to see him vanish."
She drew her index finger down the centre of Draco's face from widow's peak over nose and down to the tip of his chin. Draco blinked, as if he was struggling to come back from several fathoms deep.
Narcissa looked over her shoulder. "Well?" she growled, turning so that her robes swirled around her ankles. "Why are you still here? Take Severus and run. Oh – and give him a new name, for pity's sake! Anyone named 'Severus' will have enemies from here until the end of eternity… no matter what side they fought on."
Harry swallowed, holding the baby closer. "Right. Gringott's, then… I'll leave a note for you under the name 'Caminus'."
With a glance at the scorched capstone, Narcissa said, "'Forge'? Fair enough. I shall reply under the name 'Lethe'."
"Huh. Forgive and 'forget'?"
"Perhaps. But not for us." Her eyes dropped to the sleeping baby meaningfully.
"Lethe it is," Harry agreed. "Wait. Your husband went to Haiti. He bought back a souvenir – a doll. I'd like it."
"You'd… like it."
"Please."
"If I so decide, there will be a certain small parcel for Caminus."
"It would be proof of a good decision if there was a certain small parcel for Caminus. It would be favourable for Lethe and her son, I'm sure." And, as she narrowed her eyes, Harry strode past her, slipping between the rocks and out into the storm.
He ran in a half-crouch to shield the baby from the wind and rain. When Severus whimpered, Harry's heart sank – a crying baby would attract attention, and he didn't know any spells safe enough to cast. But Fawkes cooed and Severus settled, lying snug in Harry's arms. Severus… Not anymore. A new name, Narcissa had said.
That could wait.
Harry ran on. Rain lashed at his face, beading on his glasses until Harry took them off. It wasn't like the spell to see in the dark had lasted Snape's attack, anyway. The rain hit his eyes, but at least he could see… not that there was much to see in the near-pitch black. Lightning was a partial blessing: it lit the world for brief, unpredictable moments and then left him even blinder. But at least he was given a hint of his surroundings. It was enough to orient himself towards the anti-Apparition barrier and away from the cliff. And there was something else about the rain: it was taking something away – a weight that Harry had had for so long he'd forgotten it was there, and in the process he felt like his heart was becoming lighter. He opened his mouth to pant and the rain touched his tongue. It tasted like spring and the promise of a bountiful summer to follow.
"Argh!" He tripped over a rock and caught his balance again just in time. With a muffled oath and sudden memory of a charm Hermione had taught him for those Quidditch games played in the rain, he wiped his glasses off, cast the charm, and put them back on again.
Much better.
He looked back once and saw Narcissa flicker once, twice, three times in half a second, standing in a flash of lightning with her hair streaming out sideways and her hands clasped before her like she was holding a white dove. Her hair wove like palest witchfire, but the pale hands held steady.
That sight stayed in his dreams for a long, long time after the war ended.
ooOOoo
A/N: Warning! Next chapter (final chapter which would have been part of this one but it got too long) is more boring blah blah. If you want more action and adventure rather than some skinny kid trying to get to grips with the quagmire of role-models needed for being a hero, I recommend something else. (Rabbit has finally finished her intricately imaginative story "Balance", for example.)
Lethe is the mysterious river of forgetfulness. According to that chronicler of human highs and lows, Terry Pratchett, explorers who got there would be dying of thirst and take a drink and, well, I guess you see why it's still mysterious. Why Narcissa came wandering into my story is anyone's guess. I suppose I like writing mentally unstable but glamorous women. Don't know what that says about my inner reality…
Cheers to reviewers:
Persephone Lupin: don't you love phoenixes? I do. And yes (lol),
you spotted the Dark Mark key. Points to your House.
Oya: don't
worry, I like Sev and Albus too much to destroy them like that
(smiles) Glad you liked Snape not strangling Trewlawney. That was
fun to write.
Hotcocoalatte: I don't like unhappy endings. I
prefer something kinda sappy…
SirJimmy7: hope this helped.
Sorry, but I'm not going to have Voldie in this (so consider
yourself warned), partly because I wanted this story to be about
Harry dealing with Snape and didn't want to get into anything
longer, and also partly because I always want to write Voldie
twirling a moustache and going "Nyah-ha-haa! Tie Harry to the
railway tracks!" which just doesn't work.
Silverthreads:
thanks. I was trying to get that fine line between writing something
tactile and being completely gross. As a biologist (yeah, I'm a
teacher now, but you never stop being a biologist – one of my
students told me last week I explain cancer like it's a person),
it's a tricky one because my ideas of good taste are completely out
of whack with most people's.
bookwyrm: one slice of justice
coming up. And you don't like Harry? Well, I'm trying to write
him learning to be more open-minded. Let me know how well I succeed
(or otherwise), please.
excessivelyperky: Sometimes hope wins out
(grins). Well, in fiction, anyway.
Paula: thank you very
much!
Enahma: I'm not agreeing with your husband or anything,
but…! ;-P I know. Life gets pretty hectic (and yes, I've had
next to no time for reading fanfic and things are about to get VERY
busy at work). I'm flattered you're keeping up with this (by the
by, what are the other two fics you're reading, just in case I get
some time?).
duj: yes. It's a little disquieting how easy it
was to write.
Nemo Returning: Snape Returning. Not as Snape,
though. Good idea or bad? I should take a poll on that
one…
Kateri1: hope you still like it… it's not going to be
all that exciting in the last chapter, where it's just finishing
off a few details and leaving others open.
samson28: thanks… I
think ;-) Hope you don't mind the last two chapters, as the tone
is quite different. (I seem to be saying that a lot in this A/N).
