Gold and Silver, Fire and Ice

by Ankha

Harry's in trouble and who comes to save him, Snape! Yes the dear old Potions Master. But soon they're both embroiled in a sea of uncertainty. What is the Star of Hope and how can it defeat Voldemort? Can the new family survive?

32. The Birth of the God of War

A/N:*Checks to make sure that no one is around before she sits down and begins to type* I'm hurrying with this as fast as I can before the angry readers track me down. Believe me, this is not going to alleviate their anger, only make it worse. And the chapter after that I'm afraid. *Hears the boards creak behind her and looks nervously over her shoulder but sees nothing* I think I'm getting a healthy dose of both Mad-Eye Moody's and Severus's paranoia so let's get on with it.

All I ask is for you not to kill me, please?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my muses and unfortunately that includes a little mini-Lucius. *Glares at Authoress before sweeping elegantly to the back part of her brain* Er...ignore him, he's just mad that it took me this long to use him.

Synopsis of last chapter: *looks it over herself as she has forgotten what she has written. That's rather sad really* It begins with a lesson with Kit that several of the students (ones most close to Harry) take. Harry is late and therefore must stay afterward. Kit pushes him to try and summon his weapon as her sister did and it succeeds and he gains a bow and armor. From there it skips to a few days later where he and Evelyn are enjoying an outing when who should come along but Cho Chang. She attempts to have Harry come with her but fails and her true intentions are explained by Evelyn.

It then goes down to the dungeon quarters where Severus and Seri are just waking up. We learn of the dream that Seri had the night before that scared her, and that Severus had had them as well. They travel up to see off Seri's parents when Kit comes in and announces that she is going to be married on Valentine's Day, one month away. Seri, though very happy for her sister, begins to panic by the thought of all that has to be done and the Calburns decide to stay and help.

Harry decides to go to Divination to see his friends and learns about the engagement of his aunt and Artemis. He then is pulled into interpreting the flames by Trelawney and sees his future: Voldemort calling him son and he answering by calling the dark lord father. He leaves almost immediately, retreating back into the Headmaster's bedroom only to fall asleep where he is later joined by his grandfather, father and mother.

After saving his son from Chang in the hall, Severus tells his son of his own experiences with this sort of thing because of Rita Skeeter. Three days later Chang and Evelyn duel in the hall on the way to lunch and Evie manages to make Chang bald. We learn what the rest of the writing on the staffs are and what Severus thinks of more children (that he doesn't mind having more and would only be ready when his wife was ready).

We then see the conversation between Harry and Hagrid where Harry reveals all to his friend. Hagrid convinces him to tell his family but on the way out he is stopped by Evelyn (really Chang in disguise). She tells him that Ron and Hermione are trapped in the woods and that he most go after them. He does but soon realizes it is just a trick and Chang administers a fast-acting potion into him through a kiss.

Severus and the others soon realize that something is truly wrong with the fire mage and begin to go looking for him when they are struck by the flood of his emotions. They are pulled into his body and are allowed to witness the last of the confrontation. When they are back in their own bodies Severus fights to leave but is restrained by his father. A crow comes and delivers a letter to them. In red blood, this is written: He's my son now, Severus. Which brings us to...

Warnings: There is a bit of language in the chapter, just so you know as there is a great deal of anger, hate, and frustration throughtout.

Chapter 32-The Birth of the God of War

Seleyna collapsed wearily into the Headmaster's favorite over-stuffed chair, allowing the lids of her eyes to drift closed. It had been a difficult task to take the remaining members of the Star from the Great Hall as they all seemed to have been incapacitated by what they had seen. If that had not done the job the note from Voldemort certainly had. She had seen it, pried it from her son's hands in fact, and the one line had sent more anger coursing through her thin body than anything else had in her life. But she had not been able to stay angry, instead she used its energy to fuel her through the horrible ordeal after. Now she could be and her limbs were trembling with blinding red rage. Outside a storm was seething and she knew she had to be careful lest she attract the lightening. Though she was human she possessed all of the magic of her kind and that included her control of lightening.

The storm, however, seemed to have a siphoning effect on her as the anger that had previously coursed through her veins depleted and was replaced with a bone-wearying sorrow. Not only her love but her baby boy was suffering. And her grandchild...oh her poor grandbaby. He was lost to them now, there would be no way for them to reach or bring him back; she knew this but it was painful beyond belief to think such. Severus and Albus would use every resource and bit of magic within them to bring their fire child back. At the moment, however, neither were in any shape to do much of anything. Severus was wrapped securely around his father, forced into a deep sleep by her and she knew it would be some time before they woke. The shock of what had happened had been too great for them. Albus had also been put under and even so, the tears still flowed unchecked. So much pain, the bedroom fairly reeked of it. Seri and Kit too were down for the count. Seri had clearly been in the same state as her husband and Kit was enduring not only her own distress but her sister's as well.

Seleyna glanced up when Artemis and Draco entered the room, gliding quietly to her. The Ancient Runes professor knelt by her knee and the blonde Gryffindor by the other as she turned her world-weary gaze upon them.

"They're as comfortable as can be, Lady, we've done what we can for now." She nodded in acknowledgment and allowed her eyes to close, hoping beyond hope that this was just a nightmare and she would awaken. Artemis sensed her wish and wanted to grant it but there was nothing he could do. A hand fell atop his head and he glanced up, seeing a thin smile on her worn face.

"You should sleep, Gryphling, and take your young dragon as well." He turned to see Draco leaning against the woman's knee, fighting to keep his eyes open. He nodded to the noble matriarch and stood, lifting his...son into his arms. The child merely mumbled and turned more to him. Pausing at the door, he looked back to see Seleyna watching them. Though her body didn't, her eyes showed every bit of the three hundred years she possessed. Turning away he went down the spiral staircase, child held securely in his arms. Speaking of Draco, he was looking up at him.

"You should sleep, young dragon, you could use it," he murmured softly. The Gryffindor shook his head.

"We need to begin the search before the trail grows too cold," he returned stubbornly. The man heaved a heavy sigh, knowing that his child was right. Setting him down on his feet, Artemis made a decision.

"Go to the Gryffindor Tower and get Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and the Weasley twins. I'll go get Evelyn and bring them to my office, understood?" Draco nodded and took off at a run for his destination, previous tiredness forgotten. The professor watched his retreating back until he felt a pressure on his shoulder and the cling of talons.

"You always seem to know just when you're needed, don't you, girl?" he remarked with dry humor. Hedwig merely blinked her large amber eyes patiently. Artemis quickly sketched out a note to Minerva, asking her to come to his office as well, before handing it to the owl and sending her on her way. Now all he had to do was find the red-haired Ravenclaw.

***

"I've asked you all here for very simple reasons: we want to find Harry," Artemis began. The small group was gathered in his office, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaw in front of him, Minerva by his side. "However, I feel that this job is too big to be handled just by us. It's my belief that we're going to need the entire Order of the Phoenix." The Transfiguration professor nodded in agreement and Hermione leaned forward.

"Will it take long to summon them to Hogwarts?" she asked. The man shook his brown head, rolling up the sleeve of his right arm to show them a colorful tattoo of a phoenix in flight, one that could have only been Fawkes.

"Minerva will make contact with those in the council and I will with those that are not." The Head of House lifted sleeve to show the tawny phoenix feather strapped to her upper arm. With her wand she tapped it three times and it began to glow. The Ancient Runes professor nodded in approval.

"I've discussed it with Minerva and both of us agree that you should also be admitted to the Order and if you choose to join you will receive the same tattoo as me. From then on you would be committed to responding when ever you felt it tingle and that's exactly what it does. This is a great responsibility for ones so young but..." He was cut off by Ron.

"We understand the risk, Professor Maxwell, and I think I speak for the others when I say we are perfectly willing to take that risk. For Harry," he stated firmly. The other students nodded and murmured, "For Harry." Artemis smiled. Such loyalty the fire mage induced.

"Very well. Fawkes." The red phoenix emerged from the shadows, his coal eyes gleaming. Without further prompting he began a piping song, one that swirled around them, filling them with promises of loyalty, trust and honor. Each of their right arms prickled then tingled pleasantly. When the song ended, they rolled up their sleeves at the professors' encouragement to find they now had a miniature Fawkes embedded in their skin. Dutifully, they turned back to their professors, waiting for their next instructions.

"The meeting will commence at midnight tonight so leave your rooms in plenty of time and it's best to be there at least ten minutes early. Don't worry about Filch of any of the other teachers, they will all be attending as well."

"What about Sirius and Professor Lupin? Aren't they a part of the Order?" Ginny asked. Minerva nodded, a frown creasing her face.

"This is the last night of the full moon and I would rather wait until they could attend but we can't, it is essential we start as soon as possible. We will just have to fill them in on the details later," she said finally with a sigh. When she finished, Artemis stood.

"You guys better head back and try and snatch an hour or so of sleep." The troupe nodded and stood, their exit punctuated by yawns. When the door closed behind them the Runes professor collapsed back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. Minerva moved to place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze of encouragement.

"Perhaps you should get a bit of sleep as well, Artemis, you'll be no good to anyone if you are falling over from exhaustion," she pointed out. He only gave his head a brief shake before tapping his tattoo three times with his staff.

"I'm going to go check on Kit and stay with her till the meeting starts." The Transfiguration teacher nodded in understanding.

"I'll fetch you when we are ready," she promised as he stumbled out of the room.

***

Harry's return to consciousness was slow and tedious, the potion unwilling to give up easily. Eventually, however, his body won its demands and he was able to open his eyes, not knowing what to expect but not expecting what he found. Darkness: complete, absolute and all encompassing. It was like being back in his cupboard but somehow he knew it was different. Then, the darkness had been filled with loneliness and pain but always possessed the inkling of hope. Not here. Now the darkness was just an absence of light...and life. Tentatively he tested his fingers and toes, finding to his relief they worked and that he was barefoot.

When he tried to move his arms came the problem. Almost immediately he ran into something hard and solid. Not allowing himself to be deterred he ran his hands along the side and up above his head, finding nothing but a smooth surface. Experimentally he tried to sit up and ended up cracking his skull against what ever was above him. A voice chuckled as he cursed fluently, rubbing his head.

"Dear me, Potter, I thought you were smarter than that." The hissing voice could only belong to one creature.

"Voldemort." The boy could almost see the dark lord's smile.

"Yes. I'm glad you decided to be my guest. I would have been crushed had you refused."

"What do you want with me? Where am I?" The fire mage demanded.

"My dear boy, smell the earth around you." Harry, now thoroughly sick with panic, attempted to apparate, imagining himself at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. For a moment he thought it had worked, that he could feel himself going there, but that moment passed when his body was slammed back down in the cushions. At that moment he was thankful for them for his body felt as if it had been repeatedly run over by the Hogwarts Express. The chuckle returned.

"Did I forget to mention the Anti-Apparation wards set up by all of my Death Eaters? How thoughtless of me. Rather painful, isn't it?" All Harry could do was groan. "I would suggest not trying that again or any of your other powers for that matter, little mage, as you will suffer similar and more painful consequences." Taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the stabbing pain through his chest, Harry glared with all the hatred he could muster for the Dark Lord. The chuckle grew to a laugh.

"Don't be petulant, Harry. I don't want you to die. And you won't, your magic will ensure that."

"What do you plan to do to me?" the fire mage ground out. The voice now held hints of dark amusement.

"What I plan to do with you will remain a secret except for the fact that it has already begun. So long, Potter, I will be in to check on you later. Try not to get too bored!" Harry felt the presence of Voldemort make its exit as the pain in his scar, that he had not been aware of until then, lessened. He stared into the darkness. Oh Lord, what was he going to do now?

***

The seven Gryffindors joined the one Ravenclaw as they made their way silently to the Great Hall. Their housemates had questioned them on what was going on but they had not told, opting to guard their secrets. Now, as they drew closer, the noise of hundreds of people filtered to them. Pushing the door open, they did not attract any attention as they decided to mingle but stay close to one another. It wasn't long before they ran into two familiar people.

"Mum! Dad!" Ron called in surprise. The plump Molly Weasley and tall, balding Arthur Weasley turned in shock.

"What are all of you doing here?" Molly asked as the troupe came closer. Each teenager touched their arm where the phoenix mark was located. "You joined?" she asked faintly. Ron nodded grimly.

"We joined because of Harry, Mum," Fred offered cryptically, an unusually serious expression present on his freckled face.

"Harry? What does Harry have to do with anything?" The Minister looked around. "Where is Harry, by the way? He should be here," he finished with a frown.

"It's because of Harry that we're here, Dad," Ginny replied, seriousness present around her as well. The parents looked at one another in confusion but before they were allowed to inquire further a sharp voice sounded over the noise of the crowd.

"This meeting will come to order!" McGonagall's command was obeyed as the mingling peopled moved to take seats at the student house tables, the Weasleys, Neville, Hermione, Draco and Evelyn sitting together in the middle of the Gryffindor table. When it had become reasonably silent the woman went on.

"Members of the Order, you will notice that some of our number is missing. The head of this council, both threes and twos. All but one of them is here in this castle though incapacitated. Harry Potter-Snape-Dumbledore was kidnapped this afternoon by Voldemort or a group of his Death Eaters, we are uncertain of which at this time. It is our job to find and retrieve him at all costs. If you are not currently on an assignment consider this your new one. That is all the information we have at present moment in time, we will have another meeting soon. Adjourned." The gathered people got to their feet, talking among themselves of possible plans of action, heading in groups out of the castle. The elder Weasleys lagged purposefully behind for the chance to speak to their children and friends.

"Is Harry really gone?" Molly whispered, her eyes tearful. The eight teenagers nodded. She let out a choked sob and turned to her husband who held her tight.

"Damn that child's luck, why does everything seem to happen to him?" Arthur cursed as he tightened his hold on his wife.

"That's what we'd like to know," Moody's voice cut into their conversation as he and McGonagall approached. "That kid attracts more trouble than a festering carcass does flies." Arthur winced.

"Thanks for that image, Mad-Eye," he said dryly. The older man grunted then straightened slightly as he spotted someone familiar approaching them.

"Ah, Tonks, good." The short woman had a pale, heart-shaped face and dark, twinkling eyes. Her short, spiky hair was a mish-mash of purple, blue and green. She raised an eyebrow at the old Auror and snorted.

"Nice to see you too, Mad-Eye, glad to know you're still your old, paranoid self." Moody growled before turning to the others though by the position of his magical eyes he was still watching the witch behind him.

"This is Nymphadora---"

"How many times must I tell you? Don't call me that," The woman hissed.

"---Tonks who prefers to be called Tonks only," the man finished in amusement. The woman rolled her eyes.

"Only you would find that name funny, Alastor," she bit back before coming forward to shake the teenagers' hands. "Pleased to meet all of you though I wish it were under better circumstances." The twinkle in those dark eyes seemed to dim as she mentioned the reason she was present. The eight nodded.

"Tonks will be doing some rather delicate spy work---" Moody began.

"Would I be doing anything else?" Tonks wondered.

"---as she is a Metamorphmagus. She will be able to get places the rest of us can't." The woman nodded, serious expression creasing her face.

"Damn straight and I intend to get my commander back."

"Harry was your commander?" Neville asked in astonishment. Tonks nodded again, small smile now present.

"The best damn one we ever had and I don't intend to lose him this easily." She saluted Moody. "So long, Mad-Eye, I'm off. Want to begin right away." With a crisp about face she marched out of the Hall.

"I believe I'll take my leave as well, Minerva, Minister," he nodded to both as well as the teenagers before following Tonks in her tracks.

"Poor Severus, Seri and Albus, this must be devastating to them," Molly said. There was a whisper of cloth and a voice emerging from the shadows.

"It is, but I think you might be able to help." From the corner emerged Seleyna, her silver hair flowing around her in great, straight waves. "Children, it is best if you head off to bed; Artemis will discuss what he wants you to do later, all right?" They nodded and followed the woman's instructions, all a bit on the tired side. When they were gone, the silver-haired woman turned her attention back to the elder Weasleys.

"You are Molly Weasley, are you not?" The other woman nodded. "We have not met, my name is Seleyna. I am Albus Dumbledore's...soul-bonded." She smiled at their startled expressions. "It is not widely known that he has one. The poor dear doesn't even know himself." The smile turned sad. "Mrs. Weasley---"

"Molly, please," the other woman corrected immediately.

"---Molly, I understand you have been trained as a full medi-witch?" The red-haired woman nodded.

"It was necessary as we were running short and I volunteered. Why?"

"First, I believe Minerva has something to ask you." Seleyna nodded her silver head to the silent witch. Minerva cleared throat.

"In order to allow the twins to leave Hogwarts we need someone to tend to the Hospital Wing, would you be interested?" Mrs. Weasley nodded at once, not hesitating in the slightest.

"Yes, of course, anything I can do to be help."

"Then would you be able to..." Seleyna started only to hesitate. "Would you be able to check on them, Albus, Severus, Seri and Kit? There were no healers or other medical personal to check on them earlier," she finished. Molly again agreed without giving it another thought.

"Let's do so now."

***

The room they entered was silent except for the sounds of soft breathing. Seleyna and Molly (Arthur and Minerva had opted to remain outside) moved as quietly as possible, not wishing to disturb the two sleeping forms. It was stifling hot in the bedroom and Mrs. Weasley wondered how the two slept at all. Both she and the silver-haired woman pulled up chairs, watching them sleep. Severus was draped over his father's chest, head tucked under his chin. His hair was mixed with Albus' beard in a strange but balanced storm of white, black and auburn. One of Severus's hands was curled in the beard, keeping a firm hold. The other arm was draped carelessly over the side. Albus' arms were secure around his son's waist as if he were trying to draw him even closer. Both were bare of clothing from the waist up and seemed quite comfortable in their tangle of arms and legs. Only the telltale lines of pain around their eyes stated otherwise. Thankfully the pain had no "physical" cause.

"We couldn't think of anything else to do so we put them to sleep, feeling that it would be best for now," Seleyna said quietly. Molly nodded as she took her healing orb from her bag, running it over the two. All tests came back normal, only showing extremely high level of stress and brain activity. When she reported this the other woman did not seem surprised.

"They're probably trying to reach for Harry through their bond but I think they're going to find that hard to do." She pointed at Severus's hand where the Trinity mark glowed faintly. Molly leaned in for a better view and saw that...

"The gold seems a bit faded," she remarked and the other woman nodded.

"That's why I believe they will have trouble reaching my grandbaby." Molly reached out and drew the other woman into a hug as the ocean blue eyes closed and a sob wrenched through her.

"Oh God, my grandbaby, my poor grandbaby." The repetition continued as Mrs. Weasley offered what comfort she could. Eventually the tears died away and Seleyna drew back.

"Perhaps you should get some sleep as well, Seleyna; it has been a trying day for all of you. I can go check on the twins alone." The silver-haired woman nodded her thanks and transfigured the chair she had been sitting in into a cot. At Molly's raised eyebrow she explained.

"I want to let them be, they need one another at the moment. I will be fine." The red-haired mother nodded and rose silently, tucking the other in as she struggled with the covers, her eyes already dropping closed. Seleyna managed a thanks before sleep completely claimed her.

***

Several hours later, or so Harry assumed as he had no means of telling time, while he was trying to sleep (a fruitless act) Voldemort returned.

"Hello, Potter!" Gods he sounded to cheerful.

"Sod off, you fucking bastard!" The fire mage returned with snarling venom. There was that damn chuckle again.

"Showing your temper, I like that. I'm just here to check up on you---"

"You have, now go the bloody hell away!" Harry broke in with a growl. The dark lord continued, ignoring his comments.

"---and to begin your conditioning." Despite himself, Harry was curious. What sort of conditioning was the evil lord talking about? Would the creature have to come to him to do it? If he did, Harry thought with the first ray of hope since this had began, it would be his chance to get away. Then the boy began to wonder if the dark lord could read his mind when he spoke next. "No, Potter, I don't have to be in contact, that would be rather hard to do," Voldemort went on. Harry lashed out, striking the solid surface above him.

"Why!" he yelled. "Where the hell am I?" His outburst was met with a tsk.

"Dear me, Potter, you still haven't put it together? I had assumed your deductive skills were better than that. Smell the earth around you." That only added to the teenager's anger and he again struck out, ignoring the pain that shot through his hand as he did so.

"Why the hell do you keep telling me that? Why do I have to 'smell the earth around' me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Voldemort's voice turned a tad annoyed.

"Think, Potter, smell the earth, hear the worms crawl around you, the scent of rotting corpses in the next plot." Harry, trying to think through his anger, suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"No," he whispered desperately. The chuckle returned, its amusement restored in abundance.

"Ah, now you see. Don't worry, Potter, you'll be fine. The great Harry Potter in a coffin, six feet under. Oh how many times I have wished for you to be where you are now. But," Voldemort sighed, returning to the original topic, "now, things have changed, you and I have changed. Now I see there is a greater purpose for your existence, a greater destiny for us both and I intend to see it full-filled." Harry, his eyes tightly shut and his thin form shaking with suppressed rage, summoned his last defense, feeling the Barice Unicorn rise from within him.

"Potter-Snape-Dumbledore," he hissed. His eyes suddenly flew open. "My name is Harry James Potter-Snape-Dumbledore!"

Above him, standing over the fresh grave, Voldemort smiled as the flaming unicorn reared and charged, baring down upon him. The tip of his yew wand moved a fraction and a barrier sprang up between them, halting the beast in its tracks. With a frustrated snort it pranced up and down it, racking its horn across the invisible barrier and kicking it with its hind legs. Another slight motion and the animal found itself trapped inside an invisible cage that began to shrink even as it formed. The unicorn screamed in outrage and used any means to fight back but to no avail. Slowly the beast was forced to the ground, lying on its side as the cage molded itself to it. Voldemort smiled, enjoying watching the unicorn's weak struggles.

"Now really, Potter, must you keep this up? I know it only causes you unnecessary pain."

In the coffin below, Harry was stuck in a similar position as his flaming protector, unable to breath. He had to release it, the dark lord was forcing his hand. With a silent cry he drew the Barice Unicorn back inside himself and immediately relief spread through his limbs.

Above, the dark lord smiled as the creature disappeared, knowing he had won that battle with little effort. He clapped his hands together, very pleased with himself.

"Very good, my dear boy, very good. Now it is time to begin your conditioning." From deep within his robes he drew a crystal phial. The liquid within was red and thick, like blood. Indeed it did contain some blood, his own. Before he was able to uncork it, the fire mage's voice drifted back up to him.

"What," gasp, "are you going to do to me?" Voldemort allowed himself a fond smile, one only seen during times he tortured, and popped off the cork, emptying the contents over the grave.

"You will see, Potter, you will see."

The teenager's brow furrowed in confusion. What did the dark lord mean? And, for that matter, what was that sound? It reminded him of rain water dripping down a drain, or seeping through the ground in this case. It was obvious it was not water, however, when it struck the top of the coffin. The hiss caused him to start, his mouth opening a fraction to allow a drop of the liquid in. He sputtered, gasping as it burned down his throat. Whatever effect it was to have on him it began immediately; his scar felt like it was splitting his head in two. His body lifted in a painful arch, a scream tearing from his lips. It was as if a beast with sharp claws were ripping into his brain, determined to reduce it to shreds. His scream increased in both volume and intensity; blood began to flow from his nose. Harry clawed at the wood above him, leaving deep gouges behind and tearing his fingers. Merlin, all he wanted was it to stop! For it to be over! For it...! And as abruptly as it began, the pain ceased, leaving him a boneless heap of occasional jerks and spasmodic twitching. He didn't even have the energy to groan as he stared into the darkness, wishing not for the first time to be home with his father.

~Snape can't save you now, Potter, no one can, not even that fool Dumbledore. You are all alone and under my control.~ Voldemort's voice did not echo through the coffin as it had before but his skull instead, multiplying his hellish headache ten-fold. Mustering what energy he could he mentally glared, informing the dark lord of just what he thought of him. The evil wizard only laughed, sending him another wave of blind agony through his tortured brain.

***

Severus woke with a snap, flashes of sympathy pain coursing through his body. Allowing himself to groan he closed his eyes and attempted to process where he was. He noticed at once he was comfortable (aside from the odd twitches of phantom pain) and did not wish to move (at least not yet). From his estimations he was bare of a shirt (not that he minded) and laying across a very warm chest. He did not have to open eyes to know he would see the white and auburn beard (which he had his fist buried tightly in) for he knew the soothing litany of the heart beat as well as his own. His body automatically relaxed but tensed again when he felt tremors running through his father's body. Lifting up a bit he saw the tears and lines of pain around the tightly shut eyes. Brushing the tears away he placed a light kiss on the man's forehead, willing him to forget his pain, if only briefly. It seemed his wish was granted and Albus sighed, his arms loosening. Carefully extracting himself from his father's hold, Severus rose from the bed, pattering quietly to the bathroom. On his way back into the room, he finally noticed the sleeping form on the cot. With a wave of his hand, Seleyna was transferred to the bed and Severus smiled when his father curled against her.

Deciding he could no longer sleep the Potions Master drifted to the window, pushing back the curtains to watch the storm. The wind drove the rain mercilessly into the windows, blocking the view of anything else. Some part of him knew that he was causing it, or, at least, part of it. He ran his fingers over the cold, clear surface, watching the droplets slide down the glass. He was completely oblivious to the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Suddenly a familiar warm body curved to his, slender arms snaking around his waist. He did not have to look to know who it was.

"Loveling," he whispered. The healer's warm cheek pressed to his back, her hair tickling his skin.

"Dear heart," she answered in kind. How long they remained that way neither knew but eventually Severus pulled her to sit on the window seat next to him.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Seri asked as she leaned against his broad chest. The dark-haired man shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep any more and I thought mother should be by father for a while. And you? What about Kit?"

"Couldn't sleep either. Kit's wrapped around Artemis; I put him in the bed when I found him sleeping in the chair beside it. I thought it would do them some good." She glanced up to see him staring pensively out the window.

"Severus, are you all right?" Her soft voice seemed to bring him back to reality and he blinked, looking into her forest eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," he whispered, not sounding very convincing. Her eyes hardened.

"Liar. You will not be all right until our son is home again and you know it." She immediately softened and looked away, astonished by her own outburst. The Potions Master placed a hand under her chin and turned her head back.

"Neither will you," he added with a hint of a sad smile. Seri fought the tears that threatened to spill and won, allowing a small smile to break through.

"The only reason I haven't already left to look for him is because of you," she admitted, lacing her fingers with his, "I want to find him; I have to find him! He's my baby, Severus, he's my baby." Now the tears won out and a choked sob escaped before she fell silent. He gave the hand a squeeze.

"The same for me. If you were not with me now I would likely be flying through the storm or something equally as insane." Again silence. Seri suddenly sat up, facing her husband.

"Then let's go together, right now." He smiled.

"You read my mind."

Minutes later a silver phoenix glided out of the Entrance Hall, a large white tiger shadowing him from the ground. They entered the Forbidden Forest, ignoring the ominous flashes of lightening and threatening rumble from overhead. Sureves touched the ground, becoming human once more. Whispering to the tiger he pointed out the fire mage's magic trail. Neither had expected to find such a thing but apparently it existed, almost made for them to follow. That they did until the came upon the clearing they had seen earlier through their son's eyes. Both let out a whimper as the memories assaulted them and Severus put an arm around the feline's neck, nuzzling her ear. Tigress returned the comfort before pulling away and putting her nose to the ground, sniffing for anything unusual. It wasn't long before she found her son's staff buried in the wet snow. Taking it into her mouth, she turned to see her husband levitating the cold, wet corpse of Cho Chang. The silent signal to return to the castle was obeyed and they tromped through the rain, soaked to the skin.

Waiting at the entrance with warm, dry towels were Albus, Seleyna, Kit and Artemis Severus placed the stiff body on the Ravenclaw table and accepted the warm towel from his father. The Headmaster magically dried the two's clothes and began to towel dry his son's hair as Seleyna fussed over the Potions Master and the Healer. Albus tapped his chair at the staff table and it expanded into a rather comfortable looking couch. Seri and Severus were sandwiched in the middle with Albus and Seleyna beside the Potions Master, Kit and Artemis beside Seri. For a long time they sat together, staring at the body of the Ravenclaw and Harry's forgotten staff.

Severus knew they were losing him, the more they delayed the less the chance of them finding his son alive.

His son, how ironic that only a matter of months before he wouldn't even have considered giving the Gryffindor the time of day. Now that had all changed, time had changed them and Destiny had brought them together but would Fate deign it necessary to take his fire child away before that destiny was filled? If there was one thing Severus had learned in his life it was to look after himself, even after his time with the Headmaster. One did not grow up as he had, ridiculed, beaten, looked down upon and neglected to suddenly change over night, it just did not happen. He knew it would take years of living with and around the Headmaster to change his thinking and reverse his natural responses but at least it had a good start.

Harry had almost the same upbringing as himself only with minus one factor that had made the Potions Master so bitter: parents. Severus had only wanted the love and acceptance of Salazar and Jasmine and it had taken him till he was seventeen to realize that would never be possible for they cared nothing for him except that he would carry one the family name. Not all the Snapes had been like that as his aunt had told him wonderful stories of his ancestors fighting to the death in battles to preserve the Light. So he carried the name Snape proudly, in the memory of his forefathers, not his parents.

Harry had realized, as he had told Severus, at an early age that he would never gain the love of the Dursleys, that he was merely the bane of their existence. He had accepted that and dealt with it using that Gryffindor strength and courage Severus found so amazing. He did not allow it to make him bitter as Severus had allowed and for that alone the child was to be commemorated. It had, however, left the child emotionally insecure on so many levels that the Potions Master knew they had only begun to unwind the problems his son had.

Now Harry was being torn from what he had come to depend on for stability: his family. He counted on them for his firm base in life, the knowledge that he could turn to them any time and they would never judge him, only try and help. Voldemort was going to try his best to damn that to hell and make the child his puppet, Severus knew this, deep within his heart, he knew it was going to happen.

So how was he supposed to stop it?

"He is trying to break Harry away," The Potions Master stated quietly, though he had a feeling the others had come to this conclusion. "Voldemort will wear him down until there is nothing left then rebuild him as he see fits." He dug the heel of his hand into his black eyes, not commenting when Albus' beard fell over his shoulder.

"Don't blame yourself, Severus," his father warned. The Potions Master sighed, leaning against the man. He just did not understand, he had never led the kind of life Harry and Severus himself had led. It was typical to blame oneself for what you had no control over and then let that guilt and anger fester. He could not, and would not blame anyone else.

"Who else do I blame? If only I had kept him closer, paid more attention to what was happening to him then..." He trailed off when his father's arms tightened around him.

"No," he stated firmly. He would not let Severus fall into this well of self-loathing and guilt for fear that they would lose him as well. "You could not have predicted this, it was supposed to happen." He turned his son till they locked eyes. "We cannot protect them from the world, Severus, and not let them live their own lives." The Potions Master could see the man clearly spoke from experience and rightly so. How many times had he rushed head long into the danger without so much as a thought for those he left behind? More than he'd care to count or admit. Turning his gaze away from the cerulean orbs he chose instead to stare at the glittering red eyes of the phoenix head on the staff. Was it just his imagination or had they lost their spark? Dully he allowed his body to slump into sleep, knowing he would not be able to do so in the days to come.

***

"Master, are you sure this is the most wise course?" Lucius asked of the man before the fire. There were two chairs placed before the onyx fireplace; one was occupied by the dark lord; the other was empty. All the same the elder Malfoy knew he would not be welcome to sit, that privilege was being saved for another.

"Do you doubt my judgment, Lucius?" the hissing voice held hints of amusement as he watched the blonde man squirm.

"Never, my lord, I merely fear for your safety, as do many of the other Death Eaters," Lucius replied hastily. Voldemort smiled at the answer and Malfoy suppressed a shudder.

"There is no need to fear, the connection I've widened with Potter is one way: from me to him. I planned this carefully, Lucius, and it is flawless. I will feed Potter my thoughts and emotions , twisting them until he doesn't know were he ends and I begin. I will control him, turn him into a serpent." The dark lord stroked Nagini's head and she flicked her tongue in pleasure. "Dumbledore can't kill him, Potter's his grandson. Snape can't kill him, Potter's his son. It's the perfect trap for Potter will have no such inhibitions and destroy both of them and all of Hogwarts." Voldemort let out a high, cold laugh that echoed through the manor. Lucius nodded nervously, not daring to join the man's merriment.

"Take this," A potion was suddenly thrust into his hand, "pour it over our guest's grave. This one will manipulate his dreams to the point he won't know if he's sleeping or not any more." The blonde man clutched the bottle in his hand and bowed before beating a quick exit. The dark lord stared into the dancing green flames, a small smile finding its way to his reptilian face. Yes, the fun was about to begin.

Lucius growled as he made his way toward the cemetery. This was going to backfire, he just knew it. Any plan that involved not killing that Potter brat was a bad one in his opinion. But trying to convert him to their side---it was pure insanity! Somehow, some way Potter would mess this up and all of them would be in a deeper pile of shit than they had ever been in. It was not as though he wasn't biased; he knew it was Potter that had been that unicorn that had taken his son. Damn that boy; Draco was supposed to be the one in that coffin, he was supposed to go through this, not Potter. But since he had lost his son, for which he had been severely punished by the dark lord, the man had focused on finding another he could mold. That had been when he had set his sights on the Potter boy. Of course, choose the only person who would be the most difficult to get a hold of. But then again, who else would the dark lord use? No other; he wanted Potter.

So the careful planning of executing this suicidal retrieval had begun. Most of it had been done by the elder Snapes and Voldemort, Lucius had had little to do with it. His part only came when Chancer Chang offered his daughter as bait. That had been a bit difficult; the girl was reluctant to help Voldemort so it was thought he, Lucius Malfoy, should be the one to approach her. He had, and she had fallen head over heels in love with him. Lusting after him, really, but the results were the same: he asked her to pursue Harry, drawing him into a trap and she had done so beautifully thereby outliving her usefulness. As it was, her continued existence would have been dangerous to the success of the 'larger' plan. So he killed her and faced hell later from Chancer. He'd calmly explained to the man that it had not been his choice but duty to silence the girl and if he didn't like it then he could kiss his ass.

He'd been tempted, oh so tempted to strangle the boy as he lay there helpless but could not, knowing it would have been his neck in the noose if he had. He would get his chance, he knew for sure that he would, all he had to do was be patient.

Standing over the grave he reflected that this was not a bad place for Potter---if only he were truly dead! Ah, but those dreams would have to be saved for another day. He glanced at the newly placed headstone and could not suppress a grin. H J P-S-D. Forgotten and forsaken by family and drawn into the arms of the enemy. Yes, very fitting indeed. Wrenching the cork from the vial he up-ended it, spilling the contents over the dirt. Not being absorbed as any other liquid would, it pooled together before burrowing into the ground, seeking its victim. Salazar's potions equaled and, in the area of lethal poisons, surpassed his son's. There was no doubting the man's talents, he was a master at his art. He shuddered, eternally glad he was not in Potter's shoes at the moment, before turning back toward the lavish manor.

Harry tossed fitfully in his sleep, cursing whenever he struck the wood of the coffin. Gods he had never been claustrophobic (a side-effect of living in a cupboard for ten years) but this was purely suffocating. Finally forcing his brain to relax his eyelids fell closed, plunging him into a whole knew type of darkness. He was oblivious, therefore, of the new potion that was seeping into the small, wooden structure and his only reaction to it dropping on his skin was to mumble and rub at the spot, effectively helping the potion to soak in faster. Instantly new dreams took hold, the ones of him flying peacefully having been banished, and paralyzed him.

(Dream)

The fire mage glanced around in confusion. His father's potions classroom; how in hell did he get here? Last time he checked he had been a coffin six feet underground. But hadn't he tried to go to sleep? Perhaps he had succeeded and this dream was his reward. Smiling to himself he sank down on one of the unoccupied stools and rested his chin on his fists. As though this action were the trigger a scene appeared before him. With a jolt he recognized it: this was the first class he'd ever had with his father as a first year! Gods, he remembered how terribly frightening not to mention intimidating the man had been. And cold---burr---he'd been like an iceberg, so distant and unreachable. He watched from the teacher's desk as Snape (as he found it hard to conceive this man was his father) called roll. Harry winced as the man paused at his name.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity." Even now that tone made Harry blush with embarrassment. He hated being singled out because of his fame, his father knew that. This Snape, however, had yet to learn that. Apparently he was not the only one affected by the Potions Master for the first year version of himself blushed as well though he ducked his head to hide it. Harry rolled his eyes as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind their hands. Merlin, his cousin had been like that at one point, hadn't he? Hard to imagine really. On second thought, he contemplated wryly as the young Draco gave the equally young Harry a superior smirk, perhaps not so hard to imagine. The blonde had been quite a prat.

"Potter!" The shout of his name snapped the mage from his ruminations and he watched as the man swept down upon the unsuspecting first year. Harry could not help but shiver at the malicious glint in Snape's eye. "What would I get," he continued, "if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"The Draught of Living Death," the mage whispered. Yes, it was easier to remember now that he had changed his study habits but by the look on the little Gryffindor's face, he had absolutely no clue what the professor was talking about. When he finally made this clear the Potions Master clicked his tongue in disappointment though there was a distinct triumphant gleam in his eye. Damn, Harry thought as he shook his head, slightly put off by the man's behavior, he was a greasy git.

'It's amazing we have gotten to the point we have, truly it is.'

"Let's try again," the man continued and the fire mage groaned. "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, where else, at the top of Mt. Everest?" Harry quipped back sharply, faintly annoyed. All right, more than faintly, he thought as Snape hovered over the first year, adding to the pressure already present. Harry could sense that his younger self was bursting to tell Snape off but didn't dare, at least not yet. Again the boy admitted to having no knowledge of what the man spoke of which only made a faint smile cross the sallow face. Merlin, he had never noticed that before, the man was truly enjoying humiliating him! With a deep breath he steadied his thoughts. If anything this should provide amusement but for it to do that he needed his father beside him, lamenting how big a git he had been back then. But he was not; the only Snape that was present was the one before him.

"Tell me then, Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane."

"I don't know, sir," the young Harry admitted. "But it seems as though Hermione knows, why don't you ask her?" The fire mage chuckled, knowing he never been allowed to before and was joined by a few people, very few people. Yes, it had been a bold comeback, one that was not only stupid but dangerous. Bit reckless he had been back then; hell, he was still reckless he just didn't show it as much. Wait, damn, hadn't his recklessness gotten him into this situation in the first place? Well, couldn't contest that fact.

"Rather horrid to you, wasn't he?" the rich, deep voice jolted Harry from his thoughts, causing him to fall from his stool. Before he hit the floor, however, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, holding him steady. After taking a breath he allowed the other to place him back on the stool before looking at the person. His eyes nearly fell out of his head. It was Voldemort, only he looked as he had years ago. It seemed as though he was fresh from school though his red eyes gleamed, contesting that fact. The man smiled at his bug-eyed expression and pushed an errant lock of black hair from his face, returning his attention to the scene before him. Harry, having successfully gathered his wits about him, leapt away, throwing up his hands to cast a spell. Whatever reaction this was obviously supposed to have did not take place and the dark lord chuckled at his even more surprised expression.

"Your mage magic doesn't work in these dreams, Harry, you should know that by now." The fire mage was not put at ease by the other's words and tried again with equal success. "I wasn't lying, you know. You ought to sit down and watch, this only gets better, or worse depending upon how one looks at it." He gestured towards the class. Seeing that the man was making now threatening moves he grabbed a near by stool and sat down, keeping one eye on the dark lord and the other on the students. He watched as Snape stalked the isles, criticizing everyone but Malfoy.

"Rather a nasty old git, isn't he?" Voldemort made the comment as he turned slightly to the other. Harry growled, lifting his chin defiantly.

"And you are a monster, what right do you have to pass judgment on him?" The dark lord raised an amused eyebrow and chuckled, leaning back against the wall behind him.

"True, very true. Don't you remember what it felt like to be humiliated by him?" Before Harry could answer, Voldemort went on. "Perhaps it would be easier if you were over there and not here." Harry opened his mouth to spout out a retort but the dark lord snapped his fingers, cutting him off. A loud whoosh filled the fire mage's ears and he found himself being jerked back by his navel. His mouth opened to yell but his voice would not work. After a few seconds of what seemed to be fusion it stopped, leaving him extremely disoriented.

"Potter, quit day-dreaming and pay attention!" Harry started and craned his neck up to look into the Potions Master's hard, cold eyes. The lips were tight with suppressed anger and the sour expression was very much present.

"Professor!" He gasped, surprised by the high voice that issued from his mouth. Before the man could answer Harry whipped around to where he had been sitting moments before. Voldemort was still there though now there were ingredients and cauldron before him; he seemed to be brewing the same potion as the rest of the class.

"What did you do?" He demanded. Voldemort did not spare him a glance as he worked on cutting his roots.

"I merely felt that it would be good for you to remember what it was like not so long ago," He answered in a clipped tone, obviously not wanting to be interrupted. The Potions Master loomed over the first year, looking in the direction where the boy was attempting to burn holes through the wall with his eyes.

"What are you looking at, Potter, and who are you talking to?" He asked suspiciously. Harry ignored him and marched up to the teacher's desk where the dark lord sat and pressed his hands on its top, leaning forward.

"Why in hell are you even here? Don't you torment me enough when I'm awake?" He wanted to know, ignoring the fact the Potions Master had moved to stand directly behind him. Voldemort have a small, resigned sigh and set his knife aside, leaning till he was nose-to-nose with the Gryffindor.

"Because I'm going to show you the truth, Potter. About Snape, about everyone." Before Harry had the chance to reply, he found himself jerked roughly back by a strong hand and spun around. He then found himself staring deep into the annoyed black eyes of Snape.

"Potter, who the hell are you talking to?" Harry glanced back and forth between the Potions professor and the dark lord.

"He can't see you?" he wondered. Voldemort rolled his scarlet eyes.

"Obviously." The answer dripped with an untold amount of sarcasm. The fire mage ignored that, a triumphant grin crossing his face.

"If this is my dream then I can make him able to see you." His voice held definite smugness. Voldemort shook his finger at the student as if he were scolding him for saying something stupid.

"This may be your dream, Potter, but I am very much in control." The Potions Master, tired of being ignored and irritated by the fact the boy continued to talk into thin air, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him.

"Are you listening to me, boy; who are you talking to?" Harry's attention snapped back to the man and he clamped his onto his arms, pleading expression very much present.

"Sir, you have to believe me, it's Voldemort!" Gasps rippled through the student mass and Snape's face went blank.

"Potter, there is no one at my desk so quit spouting off fairy tales and return to your work or you will be serving detention." But Harry refused to release him.

"Father, please, he's there! He's right there!" The other students knew the Gryffindor had crossed the line when the annoyance around the man changed to anger in an instant. He then did something Harry thought he would never do. Raising his hand he delivered a stinging slap to the fire mage's face, sending him hurtling to the ground.

"Don't you ever," he began, his limbs trembling with rage, "ever call me father again. I am not your father!" His voice had risen steadily to a bellow as he continued to rant. Harry hardly listened but instead cupped his hand over the red mark on his cheek. He had hit him. Snape, his father had hit him.

'No, that wasn't father, it was...' Harry shut the voice out. Hot tears stung the back of his eyes but looked up sharply when Voldemort chuckled. A small smile graced the handsome face of the dark lord.

"I warned you, did I not? I warned you I would show you the truth." Anger boiled up within the mage and he launched himself at Voldemort, intending to tackle him to the floor. But he forgot that he was eleven, not fifteen, and mis-judged, making it simple for the dark lord to catch him. Harry struggled against the iron hold that pressed him to the other's chest but to no avail. Voldemort whispered a spell and felt the child go limp.

"Your magic may not work, but mine does," he said. He cradled the fragile child to his chest, stroking the right cheek with one of his long fingers and placed a fatherly kiss on the lightening scar as the ice mage had done so many times before. Yes, this boy would be his son.

(End of Dream)

***

When Remus and Sirius entered Hogwarts the next day it was to be almost choked by the somber atmosphere. The Defense teacher, fighting desperately to keep his eyes open, only wanted to return to his quarters to sleep. However, with Snuffles continuously nudging his hand, that seemed impossible.

"What is it, Snuffles?" He finally burst out, more than a bit irritated. The black dog let out a thin whine and barked once, looking toward the head table. Remus followed his gaze and frowned. Severus was in the Headmaster's chair and seemed extremely tired and both he and Seri were picking at their food, seeming to distracted to eat. As that in itself struck a cold cord within him, his sleepy mind began to wake, noting other things. The hall, though full of students, was extremely quiet and almost completely lifeless. It was as though someone had sucked the life and breath from the room. What the hell had happened?

He started when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"We need to talk," Severus whispered softly in his ear, glancing down to include the Animagus in 'we'. The Defense professor nodded and followed the man out of the Great Hall and into a small room, the same one Harry had gone to during his fourth year. With a silent gesture the Potions Master directed Remus and the now human Sirius to the chairs before the fireplace before casting a silencing charm over the room. They waited and watched in concern and the ice mage began to pace. Finally when Sirius could take no more he snapped, "What is it, Snape?" The dark-haired man stopped and glanced briefly at them with pain-filled eyes before turning away.

"Harry has been kidnapped," he replied shortly. At first it seemed his words had no effect, then their meaning sunk in. Before Remus could even think to stop him, Sirius leapt from his chair and crossed the room, grabbing the Potions Master's shoulders.

"What do you mean Harry was kidnapped?" The ex-convict snarled. "When did it happen? Who took him? Answer me, Snape!" Severus stood unresisting in the man's vice-like grip.

"It happened last night and Lucius Malfoy took him. Kit, Seri, Albus and I all saw it through his eyes." He blinked and lowered his head, his hair falling to curtain his face. "Whatever you do to me, Sirius, I deserve. I couldn't protect him. This is my fault, no matter what the others say, this is completely my fault." Sirius blinked in astonishment at the raw agony and self-loathing that he had seen in Severus's obsidian eyes. Up until this point he had not realized how much this man cared for Harry. Whether it was the memory of James that caused him to ignore it or the simple fact that he had not liked the man he was unsure but either way there was no denying it now. Severus Snape-Dumbledore loved Harry. The boy was his son, it was in his eyes and voice. Slowly he loosened his hold on the Potions Master's shoulders and lifted his chin, Sirius biting back a gasp at the raw emotions blazing from the very expressive orbs.

"I don't blame you," he stated quietly but firmly, "What can we do to help?" He was rewarded with a brief, small smile before Severus took another chair beside the fire and beckoned Sirius to do the same. Whatever energy he had presented to them before disappeared before them as the man slumped in the soft cushions. With one finger he idly caressed the supple black leather. His already pale skin earned a new level of pallor as he shut his eyes and seemed for a moment to have forgotten them. When he did not speak, Remus leaned forward and touched lightly on the man's arm.

"Severus, are you all right?" His tone betrayed his obvious concern; the Potions Master seemed stretched exceedingly thin. The werewolf ignored the impatient Animagus beside him as he tried to draw the dark-haired man back to the present.

"Severus," he called again.

"I find myself lost without my child," the other whispered. Severus started, pulling himself from his thoughts and he straightened. Steepling his fingers he regarded the two, displaying the natural coolness of his character.

"The entire Order is on the case but I think they will be benefited by you, Sirius, with your form. I would much prefer if I could send Remus with you to keep you in line and out of trouble but he has a commitment to the students here. I'm trusting you to employ caution and prudence, Sirius, none of us want to see you caught." The ex-convict, though slightly irritated, nodded solemnly, promising he would. One promise he had every intention of keeping. Severus nodded in approval and turned the DADA professor.

"I need you to handle as much correspondence as possible. Can you do that?" Remus nodded immediately. Again Severus offered them a smile.

"Good. Go, Sirius." With a brief salute to the Potions Master although technically the man was his equal, not superior, he was let out by Remus. When the Defense professor turned back it was to find Severus glaring with such fierceness and anger at the fire that the flames actually seemed to dim.

"I will find him, Remus," he vowed and the other shivered at the deadly conviction behind the tone. He was frightened, especially by what was said next.

"And I will make those who took him bleed." It seemed Severus Snape, the Death Eater, was speaking and Remus felt it wise to remain silent.

***

(Dream)

Again Harry found himself free of his coffin but trapped within a cemetery, though not the one in which he was currently buried. It was familiar, painfully so as it was the same as where Voldemort had been resurrected. Beside him was Cedric Diggory who was drawing his wand.

"Wands out you reckon?" the Hufflepuff asked even though he had already taken his out. Harry stared open-mouthed before backing away.

"No, I mean yes! Take the cup, Cedric, leave now before it's too late!" The Hufflepuff stared at him incredulously, lowering his wand.

"Are you all right, Harry?" he asked though the fire mage was no longer paying attention but searching the graveyard with his sharp green eyes.

"Please, Cedric, I'm begging you, take the cup!" Still the Hufflepuff stared and Harry grew more frustrated, rounding on the other.

"Go now or you'll be---"

"Kill the spare!"

"---NO!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry, though standing directly in front of the other Hogwarts's Champion, could only stare in horror as the green light passed through him and struck the Hufflepuff. Cedric's expression was frozen into open-mouthed astonishment as the light sucked his soul and he hit the ground at Harry's feet with a heavy thud. Harry stared in horror at the dead body, shocked numb by what he had seen. He did not even react when he was hauled by the scruff of neck to the familiar gravestone. Too late did he snap from his daze and struggle against Wormtail who was just tying the last knot in place.

"You ba---" He choked to a stop when the black cloth was stuffed into his mouth. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus around the pounding in his head to glare at the wizard as the man puttered around the large black cauldron. The bundle was placed at the foot of the grave and Harry transferred his glare to it and the creature in the bundle stirred fretfully. It may have made his scar burn even worse than before but it was worth it. Nagini approached, circling the headstone below him and occasionally stopping to nuzzle the bundle before resuming circling. If the mage could he would have set the bundle on fire and watched in delight as the red, scaly creature shrieked in pain. If only.

Harry gave himself a mental jolt. What was he thinking? Even after all Voldemort had done he would never torture him for pleasure in watching him squirm, writhe---the boy licked his lips in anticipation---jerk, twitch, scream...

The ceremony went according to Harry's memory with bone, flesh and blood. Before he realized it the dark lord was rising from the great cauldron and being robed by the weeping Wormtail. Harry watched dully as Voldemort grabbed Wormtail's arm and pressed one of the long, bony fingers to the red Dark Mark, burning it black. His hiss of pain was lost as the other Animagus gave a fresh howl. Voldemort let him drop and walked among the gravestones, talking to himself. Harry blocked out his words, the voice alone sending shots of immense pain that started at his scar and spread to the rest of his body. He was unaware of the Death Eaters apparating to the graveyard, approaching with caution brought on by sheer disbelief. It was all happening again, there was nothing he could do to stop it. In the distance lay the body of Cedric and though he was not faced that way, Harry could feel the lifeless eyes boring into him.

"Severus, my faithful servant." The fire mage looked up sharply, finding himself surrounded by Death Eaters. One in particular, the long black hair slipping around the white mask, offered a submissive vow to the evil lord.

"Remove your mask, my brother," Voldemort commanded and to the boy's horror, it was the Potions Master. His astonishment must have been present on his face for the man gave him a superior smirk and actually laughed. Hatred sprung up like a wild forest fire, burning hotter than it ever had before in the dark-haired teenager's veins and he wanted nothing more than to see that bastard screaming at his feet, begging him for mercy that he did not deserve.

'No,' a small, quiet part of Harry thought in distress, 'Severus would not do this, it's just...' The voice was brutally squashed and the teenager continued to glare, entertaining many thoughts of torture for Snape.

Voldemort smiled, placing a hand on the Potions Master's shoulder.

"I do believe Mr. Potter doesn't like you, my dear brother. Why would that be?" Snape glanced at the man for permission and received it with a nod. Striding with an almost bouncing step, the man approached the gravestone Harry was tied to and removed the cloth from his mouth.

"You traitorous bastard," he spat. "I'll enjoy killing you myself and damning you to the lowest bowels of hell," he promised. One black, elegant eyebrow rose.

"Oh really? We shall see, we shall see."

(End of Dream)

***

Albus and Seleyna trudged wearily towards the man's tower, hoping they made it before they collapsed. Each time they returned to the castle with nothing to show but dead ends to show for their troubles was as frustrating as the last and too numerous to count. They would continue if they could but neither had the energy to perform even a simple unlocking charm let alone to carry on the search.

When they had made it into the Entrance Hall they had been met by Artemis and Kit, neither of who asked if they had found anything upon seeing their faces. It was a common ritual that was repeated ever three days when their turn came around again and they had begun to accept that they would come up empty-handed and return broken-hearted each time they left and returned. Harry had been gone a week and everyone was beginning to lose hope.

Except Severus and Seri. Both worked tirelessly, pulling energy from only Merlin knew where and forging onwards with unrelenting stubbornness. Albus and the others were behind them one hundred percent, all determined to find the child no matter what state he was in. The Headmaster, though thoroughly exhausted by the combined weight of running the school (though Minerva was helping him with that) and searching for his grandson, found himself unable to sleep. Plagued by restlessness, Albus more often than not found himself pacing his office, brooding, and snapped at anyone who interrupted this act. He knew it was bothering his son greatly to see him like this but he knew for a fact Severus did the same in the dungeons.

The trip up the spiral stairs was gratefully brief and they entered the office, yawns wide enough to split their faces in half. On the couch of the sitting room was Seri, fast asleep. Sitting on the edge beside her was the Potions Master, the Staff of the Golden Phoenix held loosely in his hands. He took no notice of their entrance and as they got closer, they noticed Seri's fist buried in Severus's robes, effectively holding him in place. They pulled up an ottoman and shared it, watching as the man turned the staff over and over in his hands. Eventually he stood it upright and stared into the twin red stones, stroking the silver beak with his thumb. As he did this, Albus felt it safe to intrude.

"Severus?" The other man made no immediate move to acknowledge him but his thumb stopped mid-stroke and he heaved a heavy sigh.

"Severus?" Seleyna tried and was rewarded when the man lifted his head to look at them. Ever so slowly he raised his right hand, showing them the back of it. The two gasped in astonishment and disbelief. The gold section of the Trinity mark was gone and only a vague outline remained. The Headmaster quickly removed his glove and saw to his horror that his hand was the same.

"Does this mean that...?" he trailed off.

"Voldemort has broken our connection with him," Severus stated quietly and without emotion. Albus watched the obsidian orbs drain of every thing but immense sadness and grief. Then that too, drained away, leaving nothing behind but blank eyes and an expressionless face. Albus watched as Seri's hand released Severus's robe and the forest green eyes demand that he do something. The Headmaster did not have to be told twice as he tugged and cajoled the Potions Master into his lap, circling his arms around his waist. The dark head was pillowed against his father's chest so he could hear the faithful heartbeat. Seleyna hummed a tune while running her fingers through his hair. Seri sat up, watching in painful silence as they tried to comfort her husband.

"He's withdrawing into himself," she warned in a whisper, reaching for one of his hands. "I can barely feel him."

"Same here," Albus admitted. "Come on, Severus, don't leave us now, we need you. My child, my son, Harry needs you." They all shivered as the room's temperature noticeably dropped despite the fire blazing in a nearby fireplace.

"Severus, loveling, please! Think of your son! Think of me! Neither of us can survive without you!" Seri pleaded. Whatever reached the Potions Master through his grief-induce haze no one could be certain but the results were immediate. The room slowly began to warm again as Severus drew the cold within him. With one last shuddering breath it disappeared completely and life returned to those dark orbs. Severus blinked and glanced first at his father, then his mother and finally his wife.

"I'm sorry I almost..." He sighed. "Thank you for not letting me death-will myself." Albus hugged him fiercely, tears spilling from the corner of his eyes.

"You're welcome, my child, and thank you for not leaving us. Promise you won't ever?" The Potions Master buried his face in the hollow of the Headmaster's neck, absently stroking the hair of the soft beard. This simple action calmed the dark-haired man considerably.

"Won't ever leave? Promise," he finished quietly, snuggling closer to Albus. Seri leaned over and whispered into Seleyna's ear before making a quiet exit. The silver-haired woman rose and with a quiet word and wave of her new wand the ottoman became a gently reclined rocking chair. Seleyna moved to the doorway, awaiting the other woman's return, leaving the father and son alone. Albus slowly rocked in the chair, singing in his deep bass voice. His song was not that of a human but a phoenix and held no words that the other understood but instead carried emotions: love, acceptance, understanding and hope. Hope, what they had lacked in the last week but it was still there, hovering around them, fluttering on tiny wings. The Headmaster drew it to him with his song, instilling it in his son. Severus listened with a gradually easing conscious, allowing his body to melt into the warm embrace. The music continued, swirling in almost tangible twists and colors around them. Albus, using two fingers, began to rub between his son's eyes. The touch was as comforting in human form as it was in the phoenix. Severus heaved a silent sigh and leaned into the touch, enjoying it to no end.

Seleyna continued to watch them, using the archway for support. So much pain emanating from her son, she could taste it on the air. He had been suppressing it within him, allowing it to eat away, leaving him hollow. The void would only be filled when Harry returned. A hand fell on her shoulder and she turned to see Seri had returned with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate. They locked eyes for a moment before the healer moved on, approaching the two males. Whispering a command she pressed one mug into the Headmaster's hand and the other to her husband's, hovering over them while the drained them of their contents. Seconds later she had to catch the mugs as they fell from limp hands.

"Sleeping Draught, simple but very powerful. If there is anything I have ever learned from living with Severus and my sister it is the use of almost every potion brewed and how to brew quite a few myself." Seleyna moved to stand beside the other woman, watching their men sleep. "This is the first time in a week since that first night that he has slept properly at all," Seri exploded softly, dropping her gaze to the floor. The silver-haired woman put an arm around the other's shoulders in a comforting hug.

"Albus as well. All we can do is be there for them, be strong." Seri laid her head on the comforting shoulder, tears welling up in the green eyes.

"How can I be strong for him if he doesn't want to live anymore?" she asked hoarsely. Seleyna looked down at the woman with pity.

"Severus has many problems from his childhood and teenage years, hell, from his adulthood as well. It may take a lifetime to sort them all out, undo the damage Salazar, Jasmine, Voldemort and the Death Eaters have done to him so he can heal but believe me, he will heal. With all of us here to support him how can he not?" She stroked the healer's cheek and kissed to top of her head. "Have faith, child, have faith in your love, in the fact that it will pull you through this. Do not give up on our Severus just yet. I believe he still finds it hard to believe that you are there for just him and no other. He's not used to having something that is his alone where it is not immediately taken away from him. Give him time." The healer nodded.

"At night he watches me though he thinks I don't know. He watches as though he's afraid if he were to let his guard down I would disappear." She sighed miserably. "How am I supposed to fix that?"

"You just show him that you are not going anywhere," Seleyna advised. This earned her a dry chuckle.

"Yes, I suppose that's all I can do. But what about Harry? How can I fix our fire child? He has just as many problems as Severus plus the added weight of the world on his shoulder's being The-Boy-Who-Lived. And he bares it all only now he's being held by the one person who helped his life became a living hell. How am I to help him?" Seleyna was quiet for some time as she thought through what to say.

"I believe you said part of it," she began slowly, "he bares great burdens with the strength of a phoenix."

"But that's just it!" Seri cried in desperation, wanting to make the other understand. "He's not just a phoenix he's a very fragile fifteen year old boy who has been deprived of the most basic comfort most of his life!" Seleyna squeezed the shoulders again.

"So deprive him no longer."

***

Voldemort stood over the grave a week later, smiling in delight. The black roses planted in a border around the boy's grave had come into full bloom; it was time. Carefully he plucked three and dropped them into a black silk satchel, storing them in his robes. He would give them to Salazar later when he returned to the manor. But first he must add one last potion. Taking the phial of dark green liquid, he emptied it directly over where Potter's head should have been. The smile turned to a smirk of triumph as it seeped into the ground. It was only a matter of time now, Potter would be his.

Below in the coffin, Harry lay as still as death, locked in his own mind. As the potion entered the coffin, his mouth opened automatically, allowing it to enter his body. Instantly new dreams took hold.

(Dream)

Harry stared out the window of the Dursleys' car as scenes sped by. His Uncle Vernon had picked him up at King's Cross only minutes before, ending his fourth year at Hogwarts. Deep within his gut he knew what was going to happen and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent it. So he let himself not be concerned and decided he would deal with it when it came.

His uncle had been rather silent most of the trip, not a good sign in the teenager's opinion. He would rather have had the man yelling himself hoarse than not saying anything at all. That way he would be too tired to 'deal' with Harry. But it seemed the man was staying purposefully silent throughout the trip as though to save his energy for something else.

Harry knew exactly what that something else was.

Vernon parked the car in the driveway and quickly got out, the glare he settled on Harry told the boy he should do the same. But the teenager was in no hurry and waited until his uncle was in the house before he even opened the car door. There was no point in delaying it any longer, that could possibly make it worse. His steps were slow and heavy as though he wore lead boots as he entered the house. The second the front door was closed Vernon appeared behind him and latched onto his collar, dragging him toward the basement.

"Time to give you some long overdue punishment, boy," the beefy man growled. Throwing open the door to the lower part of the house, the basement, Vernon easily tossed Harry down the stairs. The boy grunted with each impact of his body on the wooden steps and finally the cement floor. At that point he was not aware of much more than his body as it throbbed painfully in time with his heartbeat. He wasn't even allowed a smidgen of relief as Vernon's boot connected with his stomach that rolled him on his back. The door had been shut and an overhead light switched on. Harry squinted at the glaring light until his uncle loomed over him, blocking its full intensity and casting his face into shadow.

"Well, freak, have you got anything to say for yourself before I deal with you?" His uncle asked with false curiosity. Harry felt bitterly betrayed by his voice when his mouth opened and a raspy, "Please don't," came out. Vernon's laugh was high and cold.

"Please don't," the man mocked in a pitiful tone. "You truly are a worthless piece of shit, a waste of human flesh. Surely God could have found a more worthy creature to make than you; someone must be more deserving of life than you. Isn't that right, freak?" Harry, his meager defenses and confidence chewed up and spat out by this speech, sank into a depreciating mood, self-loathing.

"Yes," he answered bitterly, hating himself more by the second. Vernon nodded as if this confirmed all of his suspicions. Walking to the wall he took down the one tool he had been waiting ten months to use on the teenager. Harry watched with growing fear and dread as he uncoiled the long leather whip. Vernon cracked it a few times experimentally over Harry's head before smirking at the boy.

"Do you know what this is, Potter?" Oh he knew; Vernon had been threatening for years to 'take him to task' with a whip. Now it seemed as though he was going to make good on that threat.

Vernon's smile turned to a malicious grin as he witnessed the spark of fear in the boy's eyes. Oh, how he was going to love seeing that alabaster skin peel away in strips because of his new toy. To hear him scream, beg for mercy. The grin turned feral as he approached the quivering boy, whip raised over his head.

The next hour consisted of muffled cries of pain, the occasional crack of a whip and the dull thud of either a fist or boot colliding with a body. Above, the house went on as normal, as though nothing were out of the ordinary. Below, however...

"Say it, Potter, say it!" Vernon hissed, grabbing the man of matted black hair. Harry was in a very precarious position: he was on his stomach, his uncle had one knee digging into his kidneys as leverage and, using his hair, was practically bending the teenager in half. The teenager panted, gasps tearing from his tortured lungs and muscles screaming at the abuse of being pulled in the wrong direction.

"Say it, Potter!" Vernon commanded again, yanking on the hair. Harry swallowed. He had to answer.

"I am a freak," he whispered. His hair was yanked once more.

"What was that, didn't quite hear you." The man taunted in obvious delight. The teenager ground his teeth in anger. Merlin's beard, the indignity of it all, could not the man leave him with some scrap of self-respect? Apparently not, if the pull on his hair and grinding of the knee in his kidneys was any indicator.

"I'm a FREAK!!!" Harry bellowed, cursing the man into oblivion. Vernon smiled and shoved the boy's face into the floor, rising to his feet.

"Good, boy, very good. You're learning your place." He moved away from the teenager as he continued to mumble to himself.

"Pathetic," came the sneering voice off to Harry's left and he craned his aching neck to see his Potions Master standing not two feet away.

"Severus," he called out weakly, reaching with one hand to touch the other, "help me." The plea was met with a condescending sneer.

"Why should I help you, Potter?" he sniffed. "You're not even worth my time." A grin crossed the sallow face as the teenager trembled with anger. "Want to be careful, your uncle is coming back." Harry turned to see that indeed the man was approaching again. Suddenly a slender wooden object was pressed into his hand. A shout of "Use it, Harry!" spurred him into action. Rolling over he pointed the wand at his uncle.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted. The green light left the wand and connected with Vernon's chest, freezing the look of total surprise on his face. When he hit the floor Harry allowed his body to collapse, letting the tension drain from him. Strong arms wrapped around his thin body and lifted him up, pulling him snug against a warm chest. For how long they remained that way, with Harry listening to the strange rhythm of the heartbeat and the person whispering soothing words while rocking him neither knew. Eventually, however, the boy found enough courage and energy to open his eyes and look up. He found himself staring deep into concerned scarlet orbs.

"You," Harry whispered but made no move to break away. Voldemort briefly tightened his hold, a hug, before answering.

"Me," he said decisively, his eyes running over the child's body in an attempt to access the damage. A contemptuous snort drew both of their attention and they glanced up. Snape was leaning casually against the wall, glaring down his nose at them.

"Why didn't you help me?" The teenager asked in a small, accusing voice. How could the man allow him to be beaten before his eyes and do nothing about it? Snape rolled his eyes at what he considered to be a very stupid question.

"Honestly, Potter, we've already been through this: you are not worth my time. In fact, I agree with your uncle, you are a waste of human flesh not to mention---" He was brought to a choking stop by the boy's next words.

"Avada Kedavra!" he snarled, watching with distinct satisfaction as the light found its victim and the Potions Master fell to the floor, dead. Harry immediately dropped the wand and curled against Voldemort, crying for all he was worth. The man said nothing but offered what comfort he could to the poor child. Eventually the hear-wrenching sobs subsided and Harry lay against the warm chest, sniffing pitifully.

"Feel better?" Voldemort asked quietly, stroking the boy's right cheek. Harry nodded then glanced up at the man fearfully.

"You won't ever leave me, will you?" Voldemort shook his head and kissed the lightening scar.

"Never, my little serpent, I will be there for you always." A smile grew on the dark lord's face when Harry sighed in content and laid his against the chest more fully. The boy was ready.

(End of Dream)

***

Voldemort opened his eyes and smiled, signaling to the Death Eaters.

"Bring him up." The three men and one woman began throwing blasting spells at the spot. Dirt flew in all directions as the hole grew deeper. Finally the first spell hit the coffin, causing a deep, resounding thud.

"Stop!" the dark lord roared, "do not damage it," he finished with a hiss. The four cowered away, bowing and apologizing. With a snort, the dark lord waved his yew wand and the remaining dirt vanished. Another wave caused the coffin to rise from the grave and follow the dark lord as he re-entered the manor.

The quiet whispering in the room ceased as the dark lord entered followed by a dark mahogany coffin. They stood silent and watchful as the coffin was directed to the long rectangular table where it settled gently. As it did so, Voldemort cleared his throat, directing their attention back to him.

"You all have been brought here today to witness a re-birth. What was once my enemy has now become my most trusted ally." He pointed to the wooden structure. "Inside this object is my heir. When we placed him inside he was Harry Potter but no more. Now, he has been changed, brought to his true destiny." He lifted his wand once more and the coffin lid creaked, as though it had been sealed for centuries and not half a month. Slowly, however, it obeyed and the lid lifted.

"Rise, my child." As slowly as the lid a body rose from within. Many could not contain a gasp when they first viewed it. "Come out, child, allow us to view you fully," Voldemort commanded. The eyes on the creature were still firmly closed as it whispered a spell and elegantly floated out of the coffin and to the floor, gliding, bare feet making no sound, to stand before the dark lord. He bowed, murmuring "my lord," under his breath. Voldemort placed a hand on the cold cheek and lifted the child's head.

"You do not have to bow to me, my serpent, never. Now," he took a steaming potion from Salazar Snape and offered it to the teenager, "if you drink this potion containing the elixir of black roses you will cement our bond as Father and Son, one that can only be broken by death. Do you accept?" The teenager took the cup and stated "I accept" before downing it all. The cup immediately slipped from his numb fingers, shattering on the floor. Overwhelming dizziness swept over him before eventually passing.

"Rise, child, for you are no longer Harry Potter but Aries, the God of War and the one true heir of Lord Voldemort." Aries rose and with a quick twirl of his robe faced the rest of the room's occupants. His robe changed from a simple black to deep velvet green lined with silver serpents. With a flick of his wrist he tossed a lock of his waist-length black hair over his shoulder. The dark clothes gave the bleached-bone white skin an unearthly glow and revealed just how thin the body really was, the teenager having not eaten in two weeks. Eyelids finally lifted revealing depthless black orbs, burning with an inner fire of absolute power. All that marred that perfect skin was a tattoo of a snake firmly wrapped around a struggling phoenix. He raised an elegant eyebrow when he realised everyone was waiting for him to speak. With a feral grin he raised his hand over his head, a staff with a serpent's head appearing within it.

"To the fall of Dumbledore, Snape, Hogwarts and all of the wizarding world!" he cried and the roar of approval sounded through the manor.

***End of chapter 32***

First off let me say that the connection between Harry and the others is NOT broken, merely buried with what's left of Harry and since Aries is in control, no connection. THAT can never be broken. Stretched, bent, so thin that it doesn't even seem present (as it is now) but NEVER broken, just so you know.

A/N: All right, first of all, Harry only had those three dreams but the thing is they kept playing over and over again until they were drilled into his head and he couldn't remember how it went originally. The third one did happen to Harry when he went home to the Dursleys at the end of the fourth book (in my story anyways) and it was mentioned a while back in chapter 21 I believe, or whenever Vernon cornered him, it was mentioned. Though the ending was twisted, Sev never was there, that was part of the potion and Voldemort working. That staff he had at the end, well, you'll find out in the next chapter.

2A/N: Er.......um.......I don't think I can really explain where all of this came from. The idea of the coffin came from LunaMist DarknessEclipse but I think that's about all that can be attributed to something other than my twisted brain. Though JK Rowling did help a great deal with the fifth book because it explained that Harry's connection with Voldemort goes both ways and that he can, if need be, be controlled through that connection. That's not what's happening here, but it close.

3A/N: I'm surprised my muses allowed me to live to finish this. Well, I knew Lucius would but I didn't think Severus would last this long. The only reason I've let you live is I'm planning on getting my fire child back and you're going to have to write it. *smiles* He's got a point there, I'm the one that has to write it. Though, you know, I gave you all a BIG clue this was going to happen in the story but no one picked it up. You mean when he made those predictions a couple of chapters back? *nods* That and WAAAAAAAAAY back at the beginning of the story with a certain little nightmare Harry had. Which one, he's had plenty thanks to you. *smiles sweetly* I'm not telling! Have to figure that out on your own.

Please Review! They are used to fuel my creative thinking and there fore make me write faster! Thanks for all the ones that you have bestowed upon this story and myself for previous chapters! All are appreciated!