Nineteen: Inari

'Well,' Albus said.

Severus had sat him down for this. He looked odd by the worn table, backdropped by a damaged wall and a poster for some Finnish rock band. Severus diverted his eyes: for whatever reason, he couldn't bear to look at him.

'Yes,' he agreed.

He'd told him everything: about Valerian and about Lamotte, about the abuse and the wild magic and Agata's death. It sounded worse when he was saying it all at once, but it also sounded shallow. It felt as though he should be explaining better, or providing context, because he could see in Albus's eyes that he didn't understand the scope of what had happened, the sheer extent of it—

'You've given me a lot to consider, Severus,' Albus smiled, and that smile melted something in him. He suddenly wanted to sit down, too, and possibly cry. 'I'll need some time to think through the implications, I think, so do forgive me—but all I can think to say now is that I am very glad you are both well.'

Severus fixed his gaze on the Savoy vase in the centre of the kitchen table. He thought he knew the name of the flowers it held, that he'd learnt about them many years ago in Herbology, but he couldn't access it at all. Something beginning with an m, he thought.

'How is the trial going?' he asked. It came out accusatory.

'I remain optimistic. Your adventures in Berlin have helped us a great deal. The Prophet had a feature on the unlawful pursuit of a minor on holiday, and a journalistic investigation into how the Ministry is using the tracking spell data—very good instincts there, Severus. Cornelius is in quite a bit of trouble with Germany these days.'

'I'm glad I've provided you some amusement, Headmaster, but Lamotte—'

'The Ministry claims they don't know who Harry was with,' Albus said. 'I cannot be sure, but it does appear that he did not see you. In any case, we'll need to let Lucius know eventually, I suppose—but it would be best if he heard it from you.'

Severus sat down, relief spasming through his body.

'You want me to tell him where Potter is?'

'I want you to tell him where Harry is and that you've helped take him out of the country, yes. We'll decide on the specifics, but hopefully we can present this as a peace offering. We'll have to wait until I am confident about the trial outcome, until we're just short of victory.'

He nodded. He was about to say something else about this plan, there were details that needed ironing out even if the premise was sound—but what came out of his mouth was, 'Potter knows I was a Death Eater. And he knows about Lily.'

Albus was silent for a while, just watching him. Maybe Severus wanted him angry. Disappointed. Either and both.

'I'm glad,' he decided.

Severus snorted. 'Oh, are you?'

Albus gave him a private smile. 'I might have preferred to dispense of the information in a more controlled manner, where the controlling factor would be, naturally, solely my own purpose—but I am happy for you, Severus. I hope this has brought you some solace.'

Any answer he might have given would surely choke him, so he said nothing.

'A measure of trust between the two of you would be greatly beneficial to us all, I think,' Albus mused, eyes averted in respect for Severus's turmoil. 'But then I've always believed so. Let us make use of it now, while we can—and when the time comes, we can always adjust.'

Adjust. Any trust between him and Potter was tentative, and it wouldn't be hard to adjust, not at all—when the Dark Lord returned, when Severus had to alienate the boy, when he had to sow again the seeds of doubt. He could imagine it now: it would take barely any effort at all.

Severus wanted to shout at him, but he didn't know what the words would be.

The front door banged open. Albus rose to greet them.

Voices poured high and excited through the doorway. Severus fished out a few words here and there, things about berries and dinner and moving into the sitting room. The rest was a hum in front of his eyes, dull and painful.

He shook it off. He had to shake it off.

Leeni and Kauko pressed past him into the kitchen to get started on the food, and Severus followed the screeches in the woodwormed floor into the large room at the back of the house, where Albus had already sat Potter down on the sofa and brought a smile to his face. More poetry, probably.

'Ah, Severus. I was just about to speak with Harry about his magic—will you join us?'

He sank into the armchair opposite the two of them. They sat identically on the two sides of the sofa: backs straight, chins tucked into their chests, old and young.

'Now, Harry, this wild magic of yours,' Albus spoke with a glint in his eye. 'Let me make sure first that I have all the facts. You used wild magic when you fought Professor Quirrell, and you used it again a few days ago to stop another witch from hurting Professor Snape, is that correct?'

Potter nodded.

'And those have been the only times you've managed to access it?'

'I mean, I've sort of felt it sometimes.' At Albus's patient smile, he elaborated, 'I'm not sure if it's the same thing. But sometimes, I sort of feel this—like warmth, or like tickling or something. It's difficult to explain, but it feels the same as when I use the magic, only less intense.'

'It makes sense to me,' Albus said, which was clearly all that the boy needed to hear, because he sagged in relief. 'Is that all?'

Potter bit his lip. 'The mirror,' he muttered.

'The mirror—you mean the mirror Professor Snape and I used to communicate?'

'Yes,' he looked to Severus, then stared into his lap, muscles tight with trepidation. 'I felt the magic with that, too. And when the Aurors were chasing me, I tried to use it to call you, sir, but I made it shatter. Not on the pavement or anything, just—with magic, I guess. Sorry.'

'That's alright, Harry,' Albus looked pensive. 'It is interesting. The mirror is very old and it was forged by Goblins, who are known to make use of natural magic from time to time—I suppose owing to your affinity, you must have drawn a little too much from the well, shall we say, and the conduit could not take it. That is, at least, the only explanation I can think of right now. Did you have any other questions, Harry?'

Potter gave a one-shouldered shrug.

'Potter is concerned that having these powers makes him a bad person,' Severus provided.

The boy sent him a glare that would have read as scary if he weren't half Severus's size.

'Oh, Harry,' Albus lay a hand on his shoulder. Potter stiffened minutely; a wave of satisfaction rolled through Severus. 'You have to understand that most wizards are capable of learning how to use wild magic—and that is not perhaps the right name for it. Natural magic, we also call it. It is the magic held in the lands, the crags and the waters of the Earth. In ancient constructions, sometimes, or things so old and unchangeable as love. As a wizard, you have magic of your own, right here—' he flattened his palm gently against the boy's chest '—and it is easy to master and wield, because it is your own. But there is only so much magic that can fit into one's own chest, isn't there? Think about how much can fit into a place, into a river. How much could the lake Inari hold?'

Potter chuckled. 'A lot, I guess.'

'A lot. But to use it, we must open ourselves to it. We must seek beyond merely who we are and what we have—and it seems that you are naturally more open than most. I will not lie to you, Harry, it can be a dangerous power. The magic you are using doesn't belong to you, it belongs to the source you draw from—it will not obey you easily, and if you pull on it hard enough, it may erupt and become impossible to stopper. I am not saying this to scare you, merely to advise caution.'

The boy nodded, overwhelmed but hanging onto clarity. 'Sir, could you—do you know how to use it? Could you teach me?'

'I have dabbled, Harry, but I am afraid my skills will not be enough to provide instruction.'

Potter's face fell.

'But it just so happens that your host Leeni is quite proficient at natural magic.'

Of course she is, Severus thought.

'I would like to request that she teach you a thing or two,' Albus did not miss Severus's eyeroll, and was now fighting to keep the smile off his face. 'An introduction to the art, if you please. Would that be agreeable, Harry?'

'Okay, but—so, that means I'm going to stay here for now,' Potter threw him a cautious glance. 'Is Professor Snape going to stay as well, or is he going back to England?'

'I don't want you to misunderstand, Harry: I trust Leeni completely,' Albus said, eyes cutting to Severus. 'But I will feel much better if Severus remains here with you until you're both able to come back to Britain.'

When the boy looked at him again, Severus gave a nod. His neck felt stiff.

'Does Voldemort know it?' Potter switched tracks, seemingly satisfied with his previous line of inquiry. 'Natural magic? Is that why he's so powerful?'

Albus smiled: it was the question he'd been waiting for. 'No, Harry,' he said. 'Once upon a time, Voldemort was indeed a very powerful wizard with an abundance of magic at his disposal. But he was an egotist, one man on a journey for absolute power. It takes an open mind and an open heart, Harry, to forget your own strength, to reach out and ask for help. It is not something that Lord Voldemort is capable of doing.'

Their eyes met over the boy's head. The words of the Prophecy echoed against Severus's skull; he felt a little sick and a little triumphant.

'I suppose we should go and join our hosts for dinner,' Albus rose, shaking off the mood like it was a speckle of dust on his cloak. 'Kauko has promised me my first taste of reindeer—have you had it before, Harry?'

Potter shook his head, looking like he would very much prefer to keep it that way.

When he went to follow Albus out of the room, Severus reached for his wrist.

'A moment, Potter.'

He seemed only mildly fearful, which meant that if Severus kept a level head, he could perhaps do this without feeling like a monster by the end. 'Do you know what respect is, Mr Potter?'

'Uh,' he shifted as if to get away from Severus's hold but gave up halfway through. 'It's kind of difficult to explain.'

'An example then. Would one, say, without good reason tell a lie to someone they respected?'

His shoulders drew forward. He was catching up. 'No,' he said with a sigh. 'I'm sorry that I lied about the mirror—'

'I'm not interested in an apology. I would like you to show me a modicum of respect by assuring this will not happen again.'

'It won't,' he grimaced, like the words themselves hurt him.

'Good.'

They went into the kitchen, where the table was already half-set. Albus smiled invitingly at Harry, but the boy seemed not to notice, and pushed himself onto the bench by Severus's side. He was only placating him, Severus knew. Still, the feeling that enveloped him at seeing Albus denied was too ugly to give voice to.

Leeni busied herself ladling food onto everyone's plate, eyes set in concentration as she registered their preferences. Potter was staring down the reindeer meat with clear foreboding. When she got to him, he looked at Severus imploringly.

'Just vegetables for the boy, I think,' he told her. She gave no sign that she'd heard him, but filled the plate as instructed.

He could just imagine how stilted the conversation would have been, this first night in, if not for Albus. He asked Kauko about reindeer and Leeni about house renovations, and he interrogated Potter quite thoroughly on his short-lived friendship with Hetzel's sister back in Belgium. The reindeer meat was tender yet surprisingly heavy, and Severus grew full quickly. Conversation flowed around and through him; it seemed like it was already late, yet the sun hung insistently in the sky, restless.

'Albus told me you're a Leglimens,' Leeni addressed him suddenly. It seemed to have come out of the blue, but then again, he hadn't really been listening. 'Is that true?'

'Yes.'

She nodded to herself, satisfied. 'I'm not, but I find it interesting. You'll have to tell me about it some time.'

'Alright,' he agreed lamely. Talking with her was like playing a game whose rules hadn't been explained to him; he couldn't at all follow her pace, or even quite establish what it was.

'What's that, a Leglimens?' Kauko asked.

Leeni said something curt in Finnish, which Severus assumed a translation of the word. 'He's able to look into your mind,' she said in English, accent cresting as she switched.

'Wait, really?'

Leeni embarked on a longer explanation then, which Severus had no interest in listening to. He sipped his water. The strange anger that had perched itself in his chest when Albus first stepped foot into the house had left him feeling morose, empty and rung-out.

'You can read people's minds?' Harry sidled closer, his voice a shade away from whisper.

'No. The mind is an infinitely complex thing, Potter. I could use a spell to glimpse some of your thoughts and memories. Or I can attempt to breach your mind wandless, in which case I would be able to see only your immediate thoughts.'

He took him by the chin and angled his head up, so they were looking one another in the eye. 'Focus on something specific. A shape, a colour, a word, anything.'

'Okay,' he chuckled nervously. 'Do you want a hint? Like, a category or something?'

Severus smiled. 'No. You're thinking of your feline friend from the restaurant in Latvia.'

It was nothing more than a circus trick, but it worked a charm. 'How did you do that?' the boy exclaimed. 'Wait, actually, I can do it too.'

'Oh, can you?'

'Yes. I'll show you. Just whatever you do, don't think of pink elephants. Okay? Think about anything other than pink elephants.'

He narrowed his eyes in mock focus.

'You're thinking of—pink elephants.'

'My, my,' Severus hummed. 'Astonishing. A natural Leglimens.'

Potter grinned.

Kauko got up then and started gathering the empty plates. The boy jumped up to help, and the whole of the commotion grew until Severus decided it was fair play to excuse himself and hide away for a while.

Then, he noticed Albus watching him.

'What?' he barked.

'You're very good with him,' Albus said softly. He smiled, then, and peered down at his wrist. 'Well, it's getting late. I will have a word with Leeni and then I'll be away—but Severus, before I go, I must ask. Have I done anything to anger you?'

'No,' Severus heard himself say. 'Of course not.'

'You have been upset since I first got here, I think.'

'I have not. I am simply tired, Headmaster. I would appreciate it if you dropped the subject.'

Albus inclined his head. 'Of course. In that case, I wish you a good night, Severus.'

That same rage from before bloomed in his chest, and grew, and grew more, until he couldn't see or hear, until he was nodding and saying good night and walking steadily upstairs, his body and his mind two separate entities that only happened to exist in the same place.

He locked the door to his bedroom and sat down on the mattress, head between his knees.

No, Albus hadn't done anything to anger him. He hadn't done anything at all that Severus might begrudge.

But he hadn't told him either what Severus had only just realised he'd wanted to hear, and it was that, that was the source of the cold rage in him that he could neither contain nor channel.

He hadn't told him and he wouldn't tell him, and Severus was a bloody fool to imagine it even for a second, and yet—You've done enough, imaginary Albus was saying, his voice a hush, his eyes a promise—you're very good with him—you've done enough, you don't have to do this anymore, you can go—take the boy and go.

In the end, the only person he could rage against was himself: for believing even for a moment that such a thing were possible.


Thank you for reading! And an extra thank you to all reviewers, including two Guests (Jan 9) - I'm very glad you've been enjoying the story!

Saunas, lessons and rows coming this Saturday. See you then! :)