Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium
Part III : The Beginning of Forever
Chapter Forty Seven : Just a Figment of My Reality
Tuesday 4 November 2003 HST
He'd thought at first it was only a dream.
It had started with the four of them, each in their house's formal robes, seated in a semicircle facing Albus, his eyes serious over half-moon spectacles. Holding herself with a taut wariness, Minerva sat next to Pomona who worried her bottom lip. Filius, his normal merriness shadowed by concern, came next, followed by himself at the other end. The unsettling silence from this normally chatty group made him wonder why they were there. The answer wasn't long in coming.
"My friends, thank you all for coming on such short notice. I'm quite certain you're curious as to why we are here, in this place, at this time, and in this manner. I will endeavour to explain, although I beg your indulgence as there is no easy place to begin."
Granted, it was a strange dream; the uncomfortably stiff, ancient robes of Salazar were just the kind of sadistic touch his imagination would conjure to torture him.
"To the Wizarding world, Hogwarts is believed to be a school, an educational institution subject to the whims of its Board of Governors and those of the Ministry. In many respects, such as funding and curriculum, this is mostly true. However, we are here today to address a few areas where the 'common' belief does not necessarily mean fact."
"Let's start with two fallacies with which we're familiar - who runs the school and the ever popular, Hogwarts is 'merely a castle'. Then we can move on to the lesser known misconception, namely that the Board of Governors carries the authority to 'hire and fire' the headmasters of the school. For clarity's sake, I'll address each one separately, although in the long run, they're all intertwined."
He paused, gazing long at each of them. "Who runs the school? We do. Who are the custodians of Hogwarts, a living edifice with a capricious nature all its own? We are, although the Board of Governors harbour some delusions in that regard; however, I've yet to see any member of that august body answer the call to 'come fix my wards', as we have done many times in the past." He waited for the nervous sniggers to pass. "And despite past appearances to the contrary, namely my 'removals' from office and subsequent 'reinstatements', these 'powers-that-think-they-be' cannot actually change the position of the headmaster once it is filled, nor do they make the final choice; the castle does."
Albus chuckled. "I see I may have to record this event for posterity if for no other reason than I seem to have rendered you all speechless, something I've attempted, without much success I might add, many times in my long tenure as headmaster." He waited a beat, then continued. "And a tenure it is. The burden borne by the Headmasters of Hogwarts is a lifetime commitment, unbreakable by any, other than the castle. Once filled, there is no retirement nor secular dismissal; one takes the position and dies with it."
Minerva interrupted him. "Albus, aren't you forget..."
"Patience, my dear," he replied calmly. "Let me explain to them first what you already know, and then you can make all the comments your Gryffindor heart can devise."
Watching McGonagall sputter futilely was always a good way to spend any dream. As to Albus' outrageous declarations - who would be fool enough to accept such conditions?
"The Board of Governors chooses the headmaster. This is the procedure everyone 'knows', but it's another fallacy. The convention is only valid whenever a headmaster dies suddenly without a trained successor which, unfortunately, happens more often than not. I'm not so unprepared in this matter. Several years ago, when my sudden death was very much in the realm of possibility, I named Minerva as my replacement with Pomona as her Deputy and taught them both the means to make the transfer, if necessary.
"With Voldemort's demise, I revised my succession plan when Pomona said she did not want the burden, leaving Minerva as my successor with Severus as second. Again, both Minerva and Severus trained in the rituals created by the founders to make an orderly transition at my death.
Albus didn't mention that, at the first go-around, Pomona was his second choice. He'd refused the Deputy's position as his work for the Order had taken precedence - not that it had mattered much in the final reckoning. He'd been content with his initial decision, but hadn't refused it the second time it was offered.
"However, circumstances during my absence last week forced me to, once again, reassess my plan of succession." He waited out their murmurings and after a few moments, held up a hand for their attention. "The ritual I'd previously chosen assumed I'd have full use of my powers until the end. Unfortunately, my illness diminishes my physical and magical strength every passing day; before long, I'll no longer be able to perform my duties and will be Headmaster in name only."
Given what he'd experienced in their duel, Severus had no difficulty believing the headmaster's claims of a rapid, progressive weakness; Albus would have flattened him only four months ago, not come almost to a draw. Nor was he surprised at the shock on his colleague's faces; it was quite possible he was the only one of the four truly aware of the headmaster's health because of Harry's involvement.
"This left me with a serious conundrum. I could not retire, thus leaving Minerva to take her place as headmistress, nor could I fulfill my duties." He threw McGonagall a quelling glance as she drew breath to speak. "Fortunately for us, the founders created a series of contingency plans covering almost every possible means of passing the office to another. Upon my return to Hogwarts, I researched the precedents and discovered I could transfer the magical ability of my position to Minerva, but not the responsibilities. This would mean that as long as I live, I would make the decisions, while she carries them out."
Minerva's concentration was absolute; so this was news to her as well? With the frisson of alarm up his spine, he began to suspect he might not be dreaming.
"The Founders, of course, planned for this possibility, for it is no small matter to have, what is in essence, two headmasters in place at once - one who is the public figurehead, the other who wields the actual power. In keeping with their stringent instructions for such an eventuality, I consulted the Orrery this morning and determined that today, at this hour, is the most propitious time to begin this process."
More than anything else, this calm revelation, too fantastic even for his overblown subconscious, convinced him that his magical presence in the Orrery (while he slept snug in his bed with Harry in Hana) was real and not the product of a sunstruck imagination.
"Therefore, we have been called to begin an ancient ritual, one not used for over three centuries, to pass the legacy of Hogwarts from one living headmaster to the next, one who will remain unproclaimed until I die. This transfer of ownership, if you will, must happen quickly while I still have the ability to facilitate it. While there are several venues where this rite could take place, we are using the Orrery to accommodate Severus," the gnarled hand, half covered by the deep, open sleeve of his blindingly white robes, had risen to indicate him, "who is currently several thousand miles away, so we could all meet at the appointed time, in the prescribed manner."
While Minerva glaring daggers at some perceived inconvenience to her busy and important schedule wasn't by any means unusual, the tinge of apprehension within it certainly was. Ten points to the Slytherins.
"Before we begin, you must each renew your oath to tell no one of these proceedings. The public, including the Board of Governors and the Ministry, even our most trusted colleagues within Hogwarts, must not know of these events. I know this is unusual, but Hogwarts must not be left leaderless, even in these apparently peaceful times; we must dissuade any outside attempt to fill the position by political whimsy or 'popular' choice."
He was the first to do so; swearing an oath of silence, like so many made in the past, presented no difficulties he could foresee. Besides, all he would be concealing was Minerva's involvement as the new headmistress (which had already been established and approved by everyone involved) and Albus' deteriorating condition (which would have caused more trouble than it was worth). Only keeping anything from Harry could have twinged his conscience, but since his husband monitored the headmaster's health, he would already know.
Strange though - when he'd spoken the words, the magic had delved deep, creating a disquieting dissonance within their bond.
The others had given it some thought, especially Minerva. For the life of him, he couldn't see where they might object. In fact, he rather liked Albus' plan. Anything circumventing the busybodies at the Ministry and the undesirables they'd chosen as Governors (including Malfoy, who'd managed to regain his position despite his incarceration in Azkaban) could only be a good thing. However, after a few minute's discussion, the other three followed suit, their oaths renewed.
"I thank you all for your confidence," Albus said, his smile ironic. "We may now begin. Please stand." With a wave of his wand, the comfortable chairs disappeared, leaving them in a foggy white nothingness.
Clearing his throat, Albus spoke, his voice richer, fuller, as if already laden with the magic he would confer. "The ritual is three-fold. First, a new heart or centrum of power for Hogwarts must be created as my own humble seat is inexorably tied to my waning powers. As I diminish, so it shall too, until it disappears with my demise; a second seat is as necessary as a second headmaster. Each of you will add a feature to the new centrum, something that represents the spirit of the founder you represent; you will know what to do when the time comes. In the second part of the ritual, the choice for the new Headmistress will be confirmed by the castle."
Throughout his speech, Minerva had stood proud, her unbound hair flowing down the back of Godric's resplendent, gold encrusted red robes. However, as Albus paused, she'd marred the solemn dignity of the moment by preening like Fawkes right after a rebirth. And, as usual, her presumption annoyed him to no end.
"The third aspect of the ritual entails the actual transfer of control, which will occur later, over an unspecified period of time, depending on how quickly my abilities fail."
It had seemed simple - until the time came to actually do it. He'd only the two previous exposures to the castle's elemental magic: once when they'd repaired the damage from the fall of Voldemort, and again when he'd helped Filius expand the Ravenclaw house. As such, he was unprepared for the sheer beauty of the form and of the Ordinata used to order the resulting chaos. The boundless magic had been raw yet smooth, like honey fresh off the comb. When they'd joined hands, its power flowed through them like wildfire; had even one let go, they would have all been burned.
Flitwick, after quietly conferring with the future owner, created the rotunda with its generous spaces. Of course, Sprout added the towering series of columns born of the earth, which McGonagall capped with a magnificent glass dome. And him? He'd devised the ramp, thinking it would do the old biddy good to get some exercise. Albus had added the books and the doors along the ramp as well as a guardian.
With the first part of the rite completed, he'd never once doubted the reality of what he'd seen and done, but that conviction fled when, in the second part, the castle's light (confirming the next head of Hogwarts) had settled not on Minerva, but on him. He'd laughed outright, a strange counterpoint to the resounding magic filling him before the light returned to rest on Albus.
It was at that point he'd thought the whole thing absurd, from the unlikely, archaic ceremony (not performed in centuries - bah!) to the grandiose chambers reserved for the new headmistress. He'd profusely thanked his devious subconscious for providing the entertaining glimpse of McGonagall's face when she'd thought she wasn't the chosen one; it would provide him with years of secret amusement whenever she, as headmistress, annoyed him with another one of her unfair, heavy-handed decisions.
His delusion had even come with conditions.
"Severus, you have been chosen as my replacement by the founders through their agent, Hogwarts. You have three days to decide, starting at your return tomorrow. If after that time, you refuse it, Minerva will be the new headmistress as previously decided."
He'd smirked at that. How could he not? It was beyond absurd to think anyone, let alone a mouldy old Scottish castle, would consider him a fitting custodian for a school full of idiotic children.
Yes, it had been a bit odd insofar as dreams went, but he'd eventually awakened, amused but unconcerned. Since Harry never mentioned it (being more concerned with his 'morning snack'), he'd easily dismissed the whole fantasy from his mind.
Until he'd come home and walked straight into his dream.
Until he'd read Albus' note and the realisation hit him like a raging Hippogriff: he really DID have to make a choice.
Until he'd try to explain it to Harry in the rotunda that first time and discovered the oath was binding when the words had choked in his mouth like rancid Polyjuice potion.
Quelling the inner panic had taken every dissembling skill he'd possessed as had appearing as if everything was perfectly ordinary. And later, when all he'd wanted was some quiet, his spouse had not cooperated. Despite one of his better efforts, Harry had been in one of his 'we've-just-had-sex-let's-get-chatty' moods, something he normally enjoyed (although grousing was not only required but expected), but in this case, the continuing speculation from his bewildered mate just made him want to tear his hair out in frustration, especially when he knew the answers but couldn't divulge them. And to him, telling Harry took on as much importance as making the decision in the first place; he would not accept if Harry objected or had serious reserv...
A hand trailed across his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. "Hey, this is my spot," Harry said softly, sitting across from him on the rock facing the beach, the caps of their knees touching.
"Did you find the infusion I left you?" he asked by way of greeting, not looking over at him.
"The glass of water with the white bits floating in it?" When he nodded, Harry replied, "Nah, must have missed it." With a small smile, he held up a hand as if to ward himself from the mock glare aimed his way. "Yes, yes, I took it. Thank you - I was a bit stiff when I got up. Damned bed won't let me sleep in it alone; your side was still warm when I woke."
He'd forgot about that. "Harry, that was quite a while ago."
"I suppose it was, but when I saw you out here, I reckoned you needed your time alone as much as I." Harry hesitantly laid his hand on Severus' knee, then hastily removed it.
No, the bond was still closed.
Studying his hands folded tightly in his lap, he said quietly, "It was almost too much to take in at once, but I remember everything now, from Albus' speech to the time limit he set at the end for your decision." He looked to the side, suddenly fascinated with the ocean swells. "Like you, I needed to think and it seemed as good a time as any. Besides, I've always enjoyed watching the sunrise; it always gives me hope to watch the birth of a new day."
Shadowed eyes, barely concealing his mate's hurt and longing, turned back to him as Harry remarked with false cheer, "Have to say, though, I like your spot on the lanai better than mine out here - much easier on the bum." Before Severus could respond, he rummaged in a bag he'd brought. "Here, I brought us some tea and bagels. Kaneshiro's finest."
The moment the tea's steam rose out of the cup, his stomach started rumbling; he hadn't eaten since lunch at Hogwarts. He gratefully took the offering and, setting it aside, leant over, taking Harry's face in his hands with a whispered, "Come here," as he bestowed a soft kiss of mute apology. Harry cupped the back of his head as he deepened it until it was almost enough to supplant their missing connection. Almost. Feeling bereft of something he'd not realised he'd come to take so much for granted, he nosed the hair off Harry's forehead, murmuring, "You take good care of me."
Harry ducked his head and smiled as they separated, a pleased flush on his cheeks.
While they ate and drank in silence, Severus wondered how he was going to tell Harry the rest of it when he was still bound. Or at least he thought he was. Perhaps if he approached it from the side?
"We dream-shared the night before we returned to Hogwarts," he finally said, his eyes fixed on the ocean.
"Ah, that explains why it seemed so surreal," Harry said soothingly, "although I confess I'm a bit confused. Why you didn't say anything to me the next morning before we returned?"
"Why didn't you ask?" he retorted with a snort at his evasion.
"While somewhat elaborate, even for you, I thought it was just a dream. Hardly seemed necessary to mention it."
"Precisely."
He supposed he should have expected it. Following a long blank stare, he could see it start somewhere near his mate's midriff, bubbling upwards until it burst of out of him in a great guffaw. "Oh... oh..." he tried, but the genuine laughter ate his words. Rocking with his mirth, Harry finally managed, "A dream?..." his eyes squeezed shut "...and you didn't..." tears leaked down his cheeks. "No wonder you laughed when the light settled on you."
If it weren't so damned serious... "Ah, well, that was when I decided it really was a dream."
Reduced to chuckling, Harry replied, "I can see where you might have thought so - not a whit less fantastic than some others you've had."
Other dreams? This one was more like a nightmare.
His head tilted to the side, Harry asked, "You don't remember your good dreams?"
He shook his head. "Rarely."
"Pity - some of them are quite wonderful. Remind me when this is over, and I'll tell you of those I remember - the flying ones are the best."
Flying? Flying seemed vaguely familiar but not relevant to this conversation. "You weren't meant to see this one, you just got pulled along. I am sorry it caused you - difficulties." With a shudder, he suppressed the images of Harry having 'difficulties' out on the beach last night.
Harry shrugged. "Can't be helped, I s'pose. It's not like you have any control over it."
No, unfortunately he didn't. Nor did Harry have all the facts. There was more he still needed to share; if he could just find a way to circumvent the thrice-damned oath, it would...
"Sun's getting warm," Harry said, startling him again. "I'm thinking we'd be more comfortable inside."
"Probably," he replied, helping Harry gather their spent wrappers and paper cups. "Didn't think to bring a sun potion, so we'd be going in soon anyway."
Rising in a fluid movement, Harry extended a hand, chuckling. "Yeah, I can see where you'd be concerned - that's a lot of nose to peel."
Severus discovered it was fairly easy to growl and laugh at the same time. Standing, however, proved tougher, although he was appreciative of the muscles rippling under Harry's Muggle shirt as he helped him upright. "My arse's numb," he muttered, the pins and needles of returning circulation stinging his legs.
"Shouldn't wonder," Harry replied, putting an arm around his waist to steady him. "You'll get piles sitting out here on the rocks too long."
"How romantic," Severus groused, stretching his back.
The hand at his waist dropped to his arse, squeezing one cheek. "There. Is that better?"
"Hmmm. Could be," he teased, pulling his lover flush against him. "Hurts more on the other side, though," he murmured, nuzzling the damp neck.
"Mmm hmm..." the other hand dropped "...like this?"
"Much better," he breathed, his lips and tongue paying homage to the now stretched throat. "Someone needs a shave..." He straightened at the sounds of laughter and a car boot closing off in the distance. Looking over Harry's shoulder he could see a family getting out of what he remembered Ben calling an 'SUV'. Silly Americans with all their acronyms. "Damn," he said softly, "there goes the neighborhood."
Harry reluctantly pulled away and turned around to look. "Oh well, we were going in anyway, right?"
Severus smiled to himself when Harry resolutely grabbed his hand as they walked back to the house; no, in Hana at least, Harry wouldn't let him get away with his more stand-offish manner.
Once inside, he rearranged the chairs to something less formal so they could talk comfortably while Harry busied himself making a pot of tea. He'd just set a small table between them when Harry called from the kitchen, "You want it iced?"
Shuddering, Severus untwisted his grimace of distaste enough to say, "No, I'm a purist - hot and black will be fine since we've no milk."
Harry grinned. "Just checking to see if you'd changed your mind in the last two days."
"Hardly."
"All right, two hot teas coming up."
"What? I thought you liked it iced."
"We've no pineapple juice or lemons - it's perfectly awful without them."
Personally, he thought it horrid with them, but knew he didn't need to voice the sentiment; Harry had heard it often enough their last visit.
Harry carried the tray to the chairs where Severus was already seated. After setting it down, he studied the new arrangement. "This is much cosier, isn't it?"
Settling down, he poured them both a cup, handing him one while he added a cube of sugar to his own. All perfectly normal occurrences since he was always content to let Harry play mother, but Severus also knew it was a stalling technique his spouse had learned from the best. He sipped his tea - as usual it was perfect - and waited.
"I guess we can't avoid it now, can we?"
"No, not really, although the idea of just staying here for the rest of our lives holds a tempting appeal." He sighed, knowing full well he would go back. "However, since we both know that will never happen, we might as well continue. You never finished telling me what you'd seen, and there is more I need to tell you."
Harry nodded. "There's not much more to add. After I woke up this morning, I had the oddest sensation. You know, that 'back-of-the-head-I'm-missing-something' feeling?" He sipped his tea. "Anyway, I always do better with that sort of thing if I ignore it, so I was laying there debating a shower or finding you first when I had this sudden image of Albus sitting at his desk looking at me through his spectacles..."
"What?" Severus sat forward so fast he sloshed his tea.
"Simmer down, I've already got rid of it..."
"Why that son-of-a-" Severus sputtered.
"Severus! Pay attention, please."
He forced himself to sit back in the chair and assume an air of calmness he in no way felt.
"I know you want to jump out of that chair and kill Albus, but if you'll just wait a while, he'll do it for you all by himself."
"It's that bad?"
Harry shook his head. "He'll live, for now, but his magic is seriously depleted. As to the compulsion, I let him do it."
Severus could tell there was more Harry wasn't saying. "Oh yes, you agreed - after he gave you few to no choices?"
"Something like that." He chuckled wickedly. "Have no worry, he paid for it and will think twice before doing it again, I assure you."
Severus felt a bloodthirsty smile creep on his face. "Didn't know about the sensory backlash you cause, did he? I told you keeping that little tidbit to ourselves would come in handy later."
"Well, yes, it did - I'm quite sure it was uncomfortable; at least to the point he commented he knew now why you refused."
It wasn't the only reason, but he let it stand. "Now that you remember the incident, what exactly was he trying to hide?"
"Other than his health? Nothing. He was only suppressing my memories to stay the castle." He shook his head ruefully. "He might have spared himself the effort with all the good it did." He poured another cup of tea. "No, you gave me more clues and information after lunch than he did." Holding the cup steady, he pulled his legs into the chair. "One thing, though. I could hear the words, but not the magic. Tell me, was there music? That is, if you can - I'm just curious more than anything."
"Yes." That was as far as it would let him go.
His eyes glazing as he imagined it, Harry murmured, "I'll wager it was wonderful..."
"It tore the soul," he said sincerely, remembering its wild beauty.
"...I thought it would be so lovely I'd cry if I could only hear it."
Knowing Harry as he did, he probably would have, too. "Sentimental Gryffindor," he said with gruff affection.
Harry smiled, his shining eyes crinkling at the corners. "Was it an Ordinatus?"
He nodded, surprised when he was able to add, "Three of them together, actually."
Harry smiled. "Ah - ordained magic, then. Fibonaccian, Ionian, and Phrygian?" Utterly floored, Severus could only nod again. "Hmmm - must have set up quite a dissonance with our bond considering the Newtonian we're under is only half a tone away on three of the five common notes."
Impressive. "Someone's been doing their homework."
Blushing, Harry chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's amazing what one picks up when one is curious and has nothing better to do while on call. Albus' explanation in the Orrery when we were handfasted got me to thinking, so I researched all twelve of them and their uses. Those are the only three which can be combined."
He put his cup on the table. "Which reminds me," he said firmly, holding Severus' gaze, "our bond. You blocked it, and I would very much like it back, please. I know why you did it and believe me, at the time it saved my arse, but right now, I'd rather suffer than be separate from you anymore."
He hesitated, wishing he knew the consequences if he did so; however, since it was Harry's choice, he did as he was bid. "Give me your hands."
Without hesitation, Harry extended them, their warmth thawing some of his cold apprehension. Severus felt something loosen within him, perhaps the last bit of the oath finally relinquishing its hold. With an inner sigh of relief, he gradually released the Occlumency on their bond, opening it fully to his mate, and knew he'd been successful when Harry's eyes widened as the missing images of the day before began to pass between them.
.:0:. .:0:. .:0:. .:0:.
Walking the hallways had proved useless. The castle's whispered seductions of fame and glory made it impossible to think; its visions of the power he could wield (if he only would accept) left him cold. For some odd reason, though, he sensed his rejection to these megalomania notions perversely pleased it. The portraits, in their own irritating fashion, were far worse. All along the way, the various witches and wizards (even Arthur, for Merlin's sake) had pranced from frame to frame, greeting him as "Headmaster," the word spreading like bluebell flames ahead of him until he'd thought they'd wake the castle. For one brief moment, after a particularly noisome encounter, he'd longed for his sharp, poisoned daggers.
Eventually he'd fled to the relative quiet of his office where he'd gone through the piles of Owls Harry had thoughtfully sorted for him, hoping to put the whole thing behind him until the evening; he had classes to teach and didn't need the distraction.
He'd half-expected Albus arriving in his office near dawn to talk to him, but he'd been stunned by his frailty, his movements slow and deliberate as if he'd walked a long way. The sudden acceptance that Albus was really going to die brought no comfort. With awkward solicitousness, he'd helped the old man into his best chair, made and served him tea, and settled down to listen with no argument.
Albus had hated it.
"Severus, stop fussing this instant! It's not becoming," he'd fumed, a tinge of colour rising in his cheeks. "I'm neither feeble nor dead yet, and we've much to discuss."
"Very well, but you'll let me know if you're..."
"Just - don't," he said peevishly. "We have no time for this." He paused, head cocked as if hearing himself. "I'm sorry, my boy. I'm just a grumpy old fart this morning. So, what does Harry think? Have you decided? And why not?"
"I haven't spoken to Harry about it." He looked to the side and said sheepishly, "I thought it only a dream."
Albus stared at him for a full minute, the silence heavy as his face worked its way from anger to black amusement. It was the amusement part he hated. "Oh, good gods," he wheezed, finally laughing, "and here I'd thought you'd the means to talk to Harry about the situation before you returned. It would have gone easier on him, on you both, had you done so; as it is, he will have problems with the knowledge he doesn't even know he possesses; the castle will hold you strictly to the letter of your oath now you've returned."
"What is there to think on, Albus? I'm eminently unsuitable..."
"Fah! You always underestimate your own worthiness!"
"...and I've no desire to run this school when the heads of house are against me, so it seems to me, I should just refu..."
"No, don't say it yet, Severus. Not until you have the whole story. First, you must understand, I did not choose the form of the ceremony, nor the need for a new centrum - the Founder's dictums and the Orrery did. Second, while no words were spoken, they are not necessary for the others to agree - the choice could not have been made without unanimous approval." When he'd made a sceptical noise, Albus had chuckled. "Oh, I admit, I was as surprised as you - the laugh was a good touch, by the way. I've always found that keeping Minerva unbalanced is sometimes the wisest course."
Indeed, any Gryffindor for that matter, even his own at times. He sent his amusement when the unexpected mental raspberry he received in retaliation to this wayward thought, eloquently told him he'd best discipline his more unruly Slytherin notions.
"Albus, why are you insisting I even consider this? I am the last person on earth who should be Headmaster of Hogwarts. I don't particularly like children - and I - we - have other plans. We do not intend to spend our entire lives here. So, I have to ask - why me?"
"I've asked myself the same question and have only found one irrefutable answer; you will never know how sorry I am that this burden befalls you, who of all people deserves peace. I never intended for you to bear it." Albus' eyes glazed for so long, he thought he'd fallen asleep with them open, until he said, so softly he had to lean in to clearly hear him, "There are hard times ahead, Severus, times that do not require the skills of an educator, but that of a wily strategist who has seen the black soul of war and is unafraid to wage it. And war it will be, with the resistance's heart and soul here at Hogwarts. It's vital there be an orderly and unbroken succession." He stopped as if recollecting where he was. "Why you, my dearest friend? Because Minerva won't fight."
As he'd been digesting this morsel, Albus had revealed the real reason he'd come down to see him.
"You have a more immediate problem, my friend."
"What? Is Minerva already plotting my slow torture? I can spare the few brain cells she has remaining and just say..."
"Severus, be serious!" Albus exclaimed, his voice raspy.
"You already know the sorry answer to that one, Albus," he said drolly, the inevitable image of Sirius crossing his mind.
Dumbledore ignored his jibe and continued as if he hadn't spoken, "Harry. Harry has seen it all. You dream-shared and the oath you've taken will do everything in its considerable power to ensure that Harry forgets until you decide."
Uneasy, he rejoined, "Define 'everything'."
"It could try to hurt him if his magic tries to circumvent it, and we both know how stubborn and powerful Harry can be when he's thwarted, even unintentionally."
"What would you suggest I do?"
"There are Legilimency techniques you could..."
"Never! Absolutely not, Albus! You have no idea what happens..." No, that was too private. "Harry and I have an agreement; unless I can explain and obtain his consent, I will not do it without."
"Not even to save him?" Albus asked sharply.
"No. Not even to save him," he declared with the utmost conviction.
Albus nodded in acknowledgement; he supposed this disturbed him more than anything - Albus giving in without a fight usual heralded a sneaky Albus well worth watching. "Would you consider Occlumency, then...?"
His refusal had not stopped the headmaster from telling him how to use the Occlumency to block his and Harry's bond. He was grateful now he'd listened, even though he'd bristled then at the suggestion.
And they'd made a loose plan.
"You could remove Harry from Hogwarts," Albus suggested as they'd discussed the possible means to protect Harry.
"How will that help? I still wouldn't be allowed to explain anything to him."
"Quite possible, but at least he would be out of the castle's sphere of influence. I suspect once he remembers the full sequence of events, the oath and the castle will be unable to erase his knowledge nor keep him from speculation. The most they can do is block his memory. And, Severus, I was quite serious - they will do everything they can to prevent that from happening."
He hadn't comprehended what everything meant until Dobby found him right before lunch warning him that Harry had experienced some 'difficulties' that morning. But Dobby's and the headmaster's explanations had in no way prepared him for Harry's agony after lunch.
Abandoning his afternoon class, he'd strode to Dumbledore's office, hoping Harry hadn't bypassed his trip to the infirmary; after all, he could just as easily heal himself. But he somehow knew Harry would honour his promise; it was just his nature to do so. Confronting Albus, he'd demanded two Portkeys to Hana. Afterwards, he'd felt just the tiniest bit guilty in leaving Albus nearly prostrate from what had involved an almost impossible effort on his part, but Harry's predicament and well-being took precedence in his own mind.
Leaving Albus to recover, he'd gone to the kitchen for some provisions, thinking they would need only a day's worth. Another side trip, made to his private lab yielded a few extra healing potions 'just in case'. Once back in their quarters, via the door to the ramp, he'd set the Portkey for Harry near the fish tank (which he found he rather liked). When all was in place, he'd left for Hana, hoping the time away would help end what the castle was doing to his mate.
Given Harry's condition when he'd arrived in Hana a few hours ago, it had almost come too late.
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"It's like that is it?" Harry said with a rueful smile.
"I'm afraid so. And I'm sorry I blocked our bond, but it was all I could think of when I saw how much you were hurting."
"It's all right, love," he replied, their hands still tightly joined. "I know you were only thinking of my welfare, and I wasn't exactly in a position to do anything about it myself." He took a deep breath. "So let's see if I have this straight. It was supposed to have been Minerva, but he says you were chosen because 'she won't fight'?"
"So it appears."
"And we would?"
"Supposedly so."
Harry leaned forward. "And you wouldn't decide without my consent as well, but you couldn't speak of it to me?" He shook his head. "So really, they expected you to decide our lives alone?" he asked, his voice rising.
With an effort, he resisted the call of Harry's anger roiling through him. "It would seem that way, but we don't really know that," he said, serenely. "Albus did try to give us time to discuss the issues before we returned. I'm the one who squandered the opportunity."
Ah, mission accomplished; Harry was calming, but not as much as he would have liked as he snapped, "Oh? How so?"
A guilty defensiveness colouring his words, he replied, "Remember? I thought it was a dream."
Harry stared at him, saying briskly, "So you did, and with every right to think so." He pulled a face. "I'm sorry, I'm explaining this badly; there's just so much whirling in my head right now, it's hard to know where to begin. I am not upset with you for this situation, Severus. But what I don't understand is why did Albus leave something this important to chance? I can't help but think this was not a random event as he claims."
While Harry might still be confused, he could clearly see the fallacy of his husband's question and was once again grateful Albus had shared why he thought he'd been chosen. "I believe it was," he replied, sending to Harry his complete conviction in the statement.
Sceptical, Harry asked, "Why would you think that?" His eyes narrowed. "And don't think I don't know what you're trying to do, either. You're always defending him - even when he least deserves it."
He would not react to such a loaded statement, nor would he give Harry an excuse for the argument he so obviously wanted. He took the moment to choose his words with care; they needed to rationally discuss this, not fight over it. "The day you quit the Auror training, before Fudge arrived, Albus asked me to be Minerva's Deputy for the second time. I accepted because I saw it as a way to secure my future, for even with the public acknowledgement of the part I played in the war, I still regularly received howlers expressing - lingering doubts of my loyalties."
And he'd thought he would be facing the future alone, but with the tightening of Harry's hands on his own, he knew he didn't need to say it aloud.
"Albus was correct when he said Minerva and I learned the ceremonies required for her to assume command of Hogwarts after Albus died, and for four years the plan stood unchanged." He loosened his hold on Harry's hands, stroking the backs of them, though who he was trying to soothe wasn't clear in his own mind.
"Then we learned of Albus' illness and, although it was news to us, I don't believe it was news to him. I think he'd known about it for quite some time, but held off telling anyone else. I'm not denying Albus knew this might happen someday; his illness alone would have been a very good indicator of the possibility, but I don't think even he knew when, or that I would be chosen."
"Why not? He's always using the Orrery to make his plans," he voice grew sarcastic, "see the future. Why could he not have seen this as well?"
Severus sat back in the chair. Harry's valid argument did put a whole different spin on the situation, but his instincts told him it wasn't the truth, but how best to explain it? While he thought on it, Harry pulled away and left to make another pot of tea. Several minutes later, time in which Severus put the polish on his response, Harry returned with the tea and four simple ham sandwiches on a paper plate.
"Seems I owe you several apologies the least of which is for these dreadful things, but I had to make do at Kaneshiro's since the bread had not yet been delivered. At least the ham is fresh."
As he took the plate and set it down, Severus chuckled. "The only thing 'Wonder' about this bread is when one 'wonders' why anyone eats it. The ham is courtesy of Dobby; he was in a bit of a rush to make me leave the kitchen - seems I was 'terrorizing' the house-elves."
"Not you," Harry replied slyly, then laughed. "All right, now that we have something resembling sustenance, I am assuming you used the time to think your way around my argument. You always do somehow." He balanced the plate on his knees and took a bite of the sandwich, grimacing. "Awful," he said around the food in his mouth, "makes one want to test the theory that one can eat sawdust. Can't see much difference."
Severus snorted. "It's not too bad; I'm not picky when I'm starving." He ate a half and then set his plate aside. "You eat, I'll talk."
When Harry nodded, he began, "If you'll recall, when Albus said he would be teaching me how to use the Orrery, I asked why Minerva couldn't use it and he said it was because she had no bondmate, then implied the lack shouldn't interfere with her duties as headmistress."
Harry's attention sharpened. "You're right - on the day we left for Hana. Very well, I concede he didn't anticipate a change in the plans. But what changed his mind? The duel?"
"I'm thinking there may be several reasons, actually, and yes, the duel is only one of them. Near the end of it, I could feel Albus struggling to respond to my spells. In that respect, you were correct, I did 'pull some punches' because I didn't want to injure him. And I could have, now that I see the whole picture. I don't think Albus knew just how weakened he was until that moment. He thought he would have more time, not less. I believe he was telling the truth when he said he reassessed the situation and conferred with the Orrery upon his return. That he would do so was probably something he'd thought of for a long time, just not then."
"All right, I can see that, but he said there would be hard times ahead, something we had to contest."
"True, and I think he was referring to Lucius. We've known for years that Malfoy was up to something long-term, but no one had any idea the extent of his commitment until the day of our wedding when he tried to kill us both. I know it feels like forever, but in reality, our joining occurred only ten days ago. This means Lucius views me, no - us, to be the real threat."
"But why? We've left him well alone. Now we've a valid reason to go after him," his voice hardened, "and Avery. And I have to ask, wouldn't your position to do so be strengthened if you were headmaster?"
"Possible, but not probable. Or at least not from Albus' perspective."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"It has always been known and assumed, by everyone, that Minerva would take over as headmistress. This would mean we were no threat to Lucius' plans, unless he had reason to believe we could circumvent her in some manner, which we probably would as neither one of us have ever really listened to her if we thought she was wrong."
Harry gave him a lopsided smile. "It's amazing how one's perspective changes when one leaves Hogwarts, doesn't it?"
"Well, at least where McGonagall's concerned, it does," he muttered, although that 'you-took-my-toy' look she'd worn the other night would sustain him through years of unpleasantness from her, regardless of his decision.
He took a much-needed sip of his tea. "However, back to task. To Albus, I would not have to be in a position of power to neutralize the bastards. In fact, given our past history, my anonymity would be the asset, not my tenure in his position. But to the castle, imbued with the founders' intentions? Only they, it, would weigh the power of Hogwarts into the forthcoming struggle, any struggle for that matter. And if one thinks on it, Hogwarts has always been so much at the heart of every conflict, it makes one wonder if Albus himself wasn't chosen for that very reason." He sighed. "No, Albus has been so much a part of it, for so many years, he no longer sees how much of his abilities are his and how much of them are bestowed. He would not have necessarily considered the advantage, although he clearly sees it now."
Harry's shoulders slumped as he whispered, "So you think Albus was telling the truth: Minerva won't fight, but we will. Is that the right of it?"
"I think so."
He sprang from his chair and started pacing the room, the anger held so long at bay finally released. His hands gesticulating wildly, he exclaimed, "Goddamn it, don't we EVER get any real choices? Oh, yeah, this is a good one. Save the Wizarding world, again I might add, and sacrifice what we want, or do as we please and watch the whole thing go pear-shaped. Some fucking choice."
Knowing precisely how Harry felt, it was difficult to control himself enough to observe, "But do we even know what we really want?"
Abruptly Harry stopped, brusquely brushing imaginary dust from his shorts. Idly, he noted his spouse was wearing clothing he must have left behind in the house. "Severus, I'm sorry. It's not you. It's me. I just have to - I just need..." he said, then resolutely turned, walking to the front door.
"I wouldn't know anything about needing to be alone," Severus murmured to the closing door.
He moved to the open corner windows and watched Harry walk far away down the empty beach picking up rocks as he found them, then throwing them far out into the ocean. When he was almost to the edge of his sight, he saw him straighten, then throw something out over the waves with quite some force. As it arced in the air, it suddenly exploded in a shower of magic. He bent again for several moments, and straightening, started lobbing those things he'd found as well, each one bursting before they ever hit the surface. Then as suddenly as he started, he stopped, dropping to the sand with his knees pulled tight to his chest.
It dawned on Severus as he watched the forlorn figure barely visible on the beach, that Harry had walked as far as he had because he didn't think Severus could see him; his husband's eyesight, even with correction, never had matched his own. Well, at least he could give him his privacy and, going back to his chair, he poured another cup of tea, picked up his unfinished meal, and settled back to wait.
Gods, what a situation, a thrice damned farce blind-siding him on his soft side. It should have been another, but he'd been chosen. By Albus - damn his shining eyes. By his peers - damn their cowardice. By the founders - damn their living legacy.
Therein lay his one weakness - their unequivocal approval, something he'd always wanted but had never received outright. Well, now he had it; he should have known there would be a terrible price for it, though. And no matter how much he might not want to pay the cost, especially now that he had a chance at real peace, a real home in Hana, he was hard-pressed to refuse it.
But he could. And all he had to do to make it disappear forever, to garner his other future, was to utter one, two-lettered word. One simple syllable and they would be free, the task would go to the one previously chosen to bear it, the one who really wanted it - and he'd yet to say it.
Why had he not? Because Albus was right, damn his eyes. War or something equally heinous was coming; his little 'holiday' with Lucius had convinced him as nothing else could. Somewhere in there, Malfoy thought them, together, a threat so dire he'd taken the substantial risk of tipping his hand in order to separate them, and kill them if he could, before they could join. But not for revenge. No, it was because they were the direct threat. They were his biggest obstacles, the resistance he would not be able to circumvent when the time came. And why? 'Because Minerva won't fight.'
But they would.
There it was, the root of his indecision.
As was Harry. He couldn't, no wouldn't, decide without Harry's honest opinion. The deep anger notwithstanding, he was humbled by Harry's continuing trust in him. Despite everything that had happened to his mate because of his hesitation, there'd been no accusations, no recriminations, none of the things he truly deserved. Instead, Harry's thoughts had only been of him, of how he was being used. The thoughts of how it affected his life, their life, had only come at the end and, even then, his anger was directed at the situation, not at him personally.
He knew this. Just as he knew, with what his lover had murmured as he fallen asleep last night, his heart had almost burst; it had been all he could do to hold him tight and whisper his name.
At last, a fragile peace settled over him. His oath be damned - his vows took precedence, and somehow he knew Albus had expected this all along. Very well, he could accept the burden, heavy though it was, but only on his own terms and only if Harry stood by his side in complete agreement.
The whole bloody thing be damned.
And no matter the outcome, he stood stronger with the incontrovertible knowledge that Harry would love him anyway; it was the only constant now in his life as he stepped off the precipice, no longer hoping, but knowing Harry would catch him if he fell.
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TBC