Chapter Forty-Six
There was a knock at the door to his chambers.
No one ever came to Remus' chambers anymore.
Not since that day.
He figured it was Albus, trying to lure him down to the Christmas Feast that he had opted out of attending. If that were possible. He had never stayed at the Castle for Christmas before, not even as a boy. Christmas had always been meant for family, his mother had insisted as much. But then, perhaps it was compulsory, as a teacher of the school, to attend this Feast and he was to have his wrist rapped for his defiance.
Remus would take his chances.
The coming of Christmas had evoked zero feelings of warmth and fuzziness, this year, and that continued until now, the day of, serving only as a reminder of all that was lost. And he didn't particularly want to break bread with Severus Snape, that afternoon, either, in light of it all.
Remus headed over to the door, mustering up what little enthusiasm he could for a 'Merry Christmas', at least, to whomever had knocked and pulled it open.
Harry was stood on the other side.
He was, quite possibly, one of the last people Remus would have guessed would be standing there.
And one of the only whom Remus could possibly want it to be.
"Harry."
His own voice and demeanour were uncertain, after weeks of silent treatment and furious glares.
Harry's, however, were not.
He smiled, warmly – and, oh, how Remus had missed seeing that – before he said, quietly; "Hey."
Remus released a breath, smiling in turn, even if he was a little – or, rather, a lot – confused; "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at home?"
Harry gave a wry smile, raising an eyebrow - as if the reason were obvious, as if he were asking him the very same thing – and then he stepped forward, arms going to Remus' waist for a hug.
Remus reciprocated, gladly, hugging the boy tight.
"Merry Christmas Uncle Remus."
It wasn't Christmas without Harry.
It just wasn't.
As much as Lily tried to put on a smile for Grace, as her little girl tugged open the wrapping of the gifts that had been left for her under the tree, it felt insincere and forced in light of all who were missing, who should be there. Harry. Severus. Remus.
And then, of course, there was the information that Severus had given to her the day before. How he couldn't, possibly, come to the house that day – or any day, ever again, so long as the war went on – and revive Grace's fading memories of him, as the monster who hunted her son had now turned his sights upon their daughter.
"Look Mummy," Grace held up a fabric toy Unicorn, pressing a button that set it's wings fluttering and sent it flying upwards in a soar and a twirl, before it landed back down in Grace's lap, eliciting a delighted giggle.
Lily smiled, more genuine in light of her daughter's happiness; "Who gave you that one?"
Grace lifted the wrapping, looking at the label, with a squint and trying to make out the letters. She was only just learning but there were some names she could recognise, just by looking, even if she couldn't quite read them yet.
"Uncle Remus," Grace stated, with a triumphant smile in Lily's direction.
Lily's smile faltered a little, though she'd obviously known he had sent something. It had come the previous week, the gift for her, without any accompanying letter in response to the one she'd sent some weeks before.
"Does that mean he's really not coming?" Grace asked, turning her eyes down to the Unicorn she held in her hands.
"I'm afraid not, Sweetheart," Lily stroked her hair, her eyes scanning the little pile for the one she had been given by Harry the night before, and plucked it up when she spotted it, holding it out to Grace; "What about this one?"
Grace took it, eagerly, her eyes going to the label. It didn't take nearly so long for her to figure out the letters – the name – of who had given her this one; "Harry!"
Lily chuckled, while Grace turned wide, excited eyes her way, before her attention was all for the gift in her hands and she tore it open.
Inside, was a small, square mirror and a note tapped onto the front of the reflective surface.
Lily recognised the thing, immediately.
Grace pulled off the note, carefully, and held it up to her mum; "What does it say, Mummy?"
Lily took the note, giving her a smile; "Merry Christmas, Grace. When you miss me; close your eyes really tight, hold this and say my name and when you open them, I'll be here in the mirror. Lots of love from Harry."
Grace's eyes were already squeezed shut, the mirror held tight in her hands, when Lily looked back at her, her little voice a whisper; "Harry. Harry Potter."
Lily watched as the reflection morphed with a shimmer, her son's face coming into view only a few seconds later, as if he had been waiting. His smile was wide, his eyes bright and all for his little sister.
"Hey Grace!"
Grace's eyes sprung open, wide, her mouth dropping open in shock that it had worked, before she burst out with a grin; "Harry!"
"Merry Christmas."
"It's the best present ever!" Grace declared, beaming down at her brother's reflection; "I can really see you all the time?"
"Yup."
"Whenever I want?"
"Whenever you want."
Grace laughed, delightedly; "Wicked!"
Harry chuckled; "Wicked, right? There's someone else here who you might want to say Merry Christmas to."
"Who?"
"Take a guess."
Grace peered more closely at the mirror, when Harry turned, indicating at someone off to his side, and then Remus replaced her son's face in the mirror.
"Uncle Remus!" Grace laughed, before she looked at the unicorn she had placed on the floor beside her, holding it up; "Thank you for my present, Uncle Remus!"
"Oh, you're very welcome Miss Grace."
"I love it!"
"I thought that you might."
"I sent you kisses!"
"So, you did. They arrived first class this morning."
"First class?"
"First class owl post, that's how special they were."
Grace giggled, smiling down at him, until he moved aside so that Harry could come back into view.
"Listen, we're just gonna go down to the Feast now, alright?"
"Okay. But, I can get you on this? Whenever I want, like you said?"
Harry chuckled, nodding; "Yeah. Whenever you want, Gracie."
"Mummy's here," Grace pointed out, before Harry could go, turning the mirror in Lily's direction.
Harry's smile noticeably faltered when he was suddenly faced with her. He drew in a breath, averting his eyes for a second, before looking back at her.
"Merry Christmas, Mum."
Lily smiled; "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."
Harry didn't linger, the mirror suddenly morphing and changing back into a reflection of herself. Grace snatched the mirror back, looking at it with an affronted expression on her mother's behalf; "Hmph. He's supposed to be nice and say goodbye before he goes, isn't he?"
Lily gave a small laugh, stroking Grace's hair, happy to just have seen her son and see that he was actually happy and smiling and enjoying himself that day, even if he had decided he wasn't quite ready to do that with them – or, rather, her – yet.
"He must have been eager to get to Feast. As are we, aren't we?"
"Is it lunch time already?"
"Mhm. Come on."
Lily took her hand, and the two of them got to their feet, heading through to the kitchen.
Well.
As fate would have it, Severus would be spending Christmas in a place really rather familiar to him.
He had been awoken at the crack of dawn by the scorch of the summons. Bleary eyed and with a pounding headache – which, perhaps, could be blamed for the excursions of the night before – he had risen and robed, before heading from the Castle and apparating to the Dark Lord's side.
No rest for the wicked, so they say.
He was, however, surprised by the trail of the summons and where he had found himself.
Malfoy Manor.
It seemed as if all Death Eaters were present for the festivities.
And festivities they were, as it seemed the Dark Lord had decided that a little 'party' of their own was in order, in light of the occasion, and each and every one of them were sat around the long table of the Manor's dining room; tucking into the various food fixings that were on offer before them while fending off the interrogations of their master.
Thus far, no one had suffered the Cruciatus for their responses.
It must be Christmas.
"And the defences, Severus?" the Dark Lord turned his focus upon him. Their Master was not eating; merely sitting at the head of the table, demanding that the followers did so, while he simply watched and addressed them.
"Heightened, my Lord," Severus stated, brief and to the point; "It seems that an attack is anticipated, as is often the case for such events."
"And do you have confidence in this organisation's ability to withstand such an attempt?"
"No, my Lord. There are weaknesses, as ever; and the quietness with which they must be breached would only add to our element of surprise."
"The East Wing, you suggested?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And does your wife concur with Severus' assessment, Lucius?" the Dark Lord's eyes went from Severus to the man sitting opposite, at the other side of the table.
Lucius - who was doing a pretty good job of concealing his displeasure at the presence of the Dark Lord and his followers in his home – lifted his chin, casting a brief glance in Narcissa's direction where she sat to his side, and gave a nod; "Yes, my Lord. Of the various divisions within the Foundation, the East Wing houses the Counselling and the Administration; neither of which are considered quite as worthy of the intense security measures that are placed upon the others."
"And which is the most secure of this organisation?"
"The Tonks Facility."
"Which houses?"
"The School."
"Ah. Of course," the Dark Lord's eyes gleamed; "Where dear Harry Potter's younger sister attends." His eyes were suddenly back upon Severus; "Where are you on that assignment?"
Severus shifted where he sat, reaching into the folds of his robes and tugging out the two Birth Certificates he carried within them – Grace's and Malachi's – and, though he sat only two seats away, with no one between them, he stood to approach, walking around the table and presenting them to the dark wizard with a dip of the head.
It was only when Severus had returned to his seat, facing the Dark Lord once more, that he unrolled them.
"My Lord, with Regulus being so unwilling to allow his son to go unclaimed, I feel it unlikely that he would stand aside and allow his daughter to be so. At the very least, he would wish his parentage documented, so as to ensure the girl's inheritance come his – imminent – demise. He has always been a man of honour, when it comes to fortune."
The Dark Lord was sceptical, even as he eyed the scrolls before him. He lifted his eyes to Severus; "You are comparing the worth of a first-born son to that of this girl, Severus?"
The Dark Lord tossed the parchments onto the table.
"You surely have other reasons for doubt, if you are so willing to put a case for it forward?"
"Certainly, my Lord. It has come to my attention that, prior to these whispers regarding Regulus and the child, it was a widely held belief that the girl is the daughter of someone rather unspectacular; Remus Lupin."
There was a stir, as many at the table were already acquainted with him, in one way or another.
"And do you have proof of this other than hearsay, Severus?" the Dark Lord looked at him, carefully.
"All circumstantial, for the moment, my Lord. A consistent presence during the holidays and special occasions, an evident fondness between the man and the mother –"
Severus' eyes had skimmed the Circle as he spoke, so that he caught Lucius' eye and, when he did, he very nearly faltered at the look there. But he caught himself, before he did, carrying on, smoothly.
" - if it is the truth of the matter, I shall get to the bottom of it."
"Then the rumours of it being Regulus may prove inaccurate. No matter. Another way to reach him will be found and, then, the traitor will be dealt with."
"My Lord," Bellatrix Lestrange burst out, as if desperate to have her say on the matter, from her spot at the other side of the table; "Let me deal with him. I'll see to it he suffers for the shame that he has brought down upon our family."
The Dark Lord gave an almost pur of laughter, shaking his head; "Traitors, as you know, will be dealt with by none other than me, Bellatrix. Though I suppose I might have it within myself to distribute the punishment prior, if the show were worthwhile –" his attention was back on Severus; "I trust confirmation, either way, will be found imminently?"
"Before the boy returns to the Castle for the beginning of term."
"Ah! But it seems as if Harry Potter has already returned to Hogwarts."
What?
Severus had heard nothing of that.
But, before he could protest the inaccuracy of the statement – he had dined with the students present at the Castle less than twenty-four hours before, prior to his attendance at the Foundation - Narcissa had spoken up, confirming the fact.
"- and it was reported by him; that Regulus was overheard discussing the new arrangements with the boy's mother."
Him.
The elusive spy within the Foundation, whom Severus and Regulus were still to identify.
"Odd that dear Lily Potter should agree, considering the rather skeletal presence within the walls, am I right, Severus? Has there been any further word about the old man?"
"As yet, the Headmaster remains tied up dealing with Crouch."
The Dark Lord's eyes left him, then, going to the other side of the Circle, meeting those of Barty Crouch Jr., and an understanding, of sorts, appeared to pass between them; one which Severus was not privy to but was evident of another ongoing assignment.
So, came the end of Severus' questioning, as the Dark Lord's attention turned elsewhere but, even that, did not last much longer before their Master, somewhat, dismissed them – from the table, not the premises – and they stood and mingled amongst themselves at various points within the dining room and the adjourning parlour.
Severus, not one for social gatherings under any circumstances, busied himself at the bar table towards the back of the room.
"Try the Vervaroot."
Severus glanced over his shoulder at the familiar voice.
Lucius gave him a smile, as he joined him. Severus inclined his head, before reaching for the extortionately expensive bottle that Lucius had suggested and poured them each a glass.
"It is risky, returning to the Manor," Severus remarked, as he did; "To return to the country, at all, under the circumstances. With Crouch itching for war, there is only so much Dumbledore can do to hold him back."
"The Dark Lord felt it was time."
Severus glanced at him – could see the evident distaste in his old friend's expression as he eyed the others who spilled out from the room out his line of vision – and gave a nod; "Well. It will be a comfort to Narcissa, at least, to have her husband returned to her."
Lucius gave a scoff, as he lifted the glass poured for him, turning to look in the direction of his wife – who was speaking with her lunatic sister in the corner of the dining room – and gave a wry smile; "Perhaps so, if others had not accompanied him. For now, it seems as if my own task is simply that of host. You can imagine my wife's response."
Severus got a ghost of a smile of his own, at the statement – for no one in their right mind would be happy under such circumstances, as to be housing the Dark Lord and his followers in their own home, no matter how loyal they may be – and gave a nod of concession.
"Not that I envy you, yours, old friend."
Severus paused at raising his glass to his lips, eyes lingering upon the liquid within it. He glanced at Lucius out the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow in question.
Lucius was regarding him, entirely unreadable, before he glanced around them and lowering his voice, ever so slightly; "I must say, I was surprised to hear you put forth hearsay as evidence during your audience. Particularly considering how you are not quite so immune to whispers, yourself."
Severus drew in a slow breath, neither of them looking at one another. He was very, very aware of where Lucius was going with this.
There was a silence in the wake of Lucius' words.
But not for long.
"You cannot seriously be of the mind that you are going to be able to conceal the identity of that girl's father from him."
Severus was almost frozen at the statement, utterly still and cold at the words, as they hung in the air between them.
Of course, Lucius would put it together – Narcissa, too, even – he had warned him, way back when, of how bloody slap-in-your-face obvious he and Lily were being about the whole thing; before they had even really been anything.
Severus shifted, turning only his head to look at Lucius, squarely. The other man met his look, evenly, giving nothing more away. Nothing of what he felt about the matter – though Severus could, obviously, fill in those blanks – and nothing of what he intended to do with the information that his old friend had over him.
The look was not threatening, no, only matter-of-fact; but that did little to stem the rising dread that rose up within him at the revelation.
There was stir in the far side of the room.
"No, Macnair, do bring him in."
The calm look on Lucius' face gave way to one of minor alarm, as both glanced in the Dark Lord's direction – far up the other side of the room – to where Draco was being ushered towards from where he had, apparently, been peering in from the doorway.
The boy looked absolutely petrified.
Narcissa stepped forward, from where she had been standing with Bellatrix, her hands going protectively to her son's shoulder as she put herself between them; "My Lord, I'm so sorry. He knows better. Let me just take him back upstairs, out of our way."
"Not at all, Narcissa; this is the boy's home, after all, and we would not want him to feel a stranger in his own house," the Dark Lord returned, dangerously softly, and Severus could feel Lucius tense at his side when his Master tilted his head slightly to look past his wife and address Draco directly; "Come, child." He indicated the empty seat at his side.
Severus saw Narcissa's hand squeeze her son's shoulder tight, before he did as was told and made his way to where the dark wizard had indicated, taking a seat. Narcissa remained standing behind him, her hands on either shoulder, but the Dark Lord took no notice, apparently allowing it.
"How old are you, Draco?"
"Fourteen, Sir."
"Fourth year?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Hm. In that case, you must be well acquainted with Harry Potter."
"Mummy's making me go to bed now."
Harry grinned as he walked down the deserted corridor, clutching the enchanted mirror in his hand as he spoke to Grace – for the fifth time, that day, since she'd first opened her gift from him – saying their goodnights.
"It's way past bedtime now, Gracie. I should've told you, the mirrors don't work the whole of the next day if you use them after lights out."
"You just made that up."
"Would I do that?"
"Yup."
Harry chuckled; "Night, Grace."
"Night, Harry."
He tucked the mirror into one of the pockets of his robes. He was glad of the excuse to keep his mind off of where he was heading and what he was doing, right now, and he bit back any nerves that threatened to rise without the distraction of his sister's voice as he headed down the staircase into the dungeons.
It wasn't the first time that Harry had tried him – Snape – he had gone to his office, first, before he had gone to his Uncle Remus that morning. Snape hadn't been there, though, and Harry figured he had taken up his mum's offer the day before to spend the day with her and his sister.
Harry tried to not be bitter about it – he could have been there, instead, after all – and focus on what was actually important – Grace – rather than everything else that was going on and how he felt about it. He could do what Snape did and push all of it away – any feelings whatsoever – act like he was made of stone and call it occlumency. Sure, he could; Snape would just have to show him how, that's all, if that's what it took to keep them all safe.
Harry took the last few steps of the stairs, heading down the corridor, rounding the corner – all of it so familiar to him, now after months of time and lessons spent with the Potions Professor – and, when he did, he was met with he sight of Snape and Draco Malfoy up ahead.
Harry hesitated, slowing in his steps to a stop, as he watched them.
Snape was saying something, a hand on Malfoy's arm, and Malfoy looked uneasy but as if he were trying to hide it, shaking his head as he spoke.
Harry approached, just enough to overhear Malfoy's final statement; "It's an honour, Sir. Really."
Snape was looking at him carefully, with obvious concern in his expression, and he made to speak but, as he did, his eyes drifted upwards and met with Harry's.
Harry simply looked back at him from where he stood.
It was the briefest of looks, before Snape turned his attention fully back to Malfoy, giving a nod of dismissal; "Very well. You know where I am."
Malfoy nodded and brushed on by him, seeming relieved that whatever conversation the two of them had been having had come to an end, and made his way in the direction of the dorms.
Snape's eyes followed Malfoy's every move – even when he had vanished from Harry's sight Snape's gaze lingered – so that it was almost a good minute of Harry just standing there, staring at him, before the man finally looked back in his direction.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, to say something. He wasn't quite sure what, he hadn't exactly rehearsed any of this; he'd just come down here, knowing that he had to speak to Snape and that they had to do something – namely, get his head in check, fast – but he would get a little longer to think about it, it seemed, as when Harry made to speak Snape lifted his hand ever so slightly from where it rested at his side and then he turned away, making the few strides to the door of his office and heading inside.
The door was left open.
An invitation, obviously.
Harry pushed back those nerves that still threatened to rise and hurried towards the office – not giving himself any time to think or hesitate – until he stepped across the threshold, closing the door behind him.
Snape was standing just on the other side, waiting.
"Mr Potter."
"Professor."
"I was under the impression you were to be spending Christmas with Malachi Black."
"I came back early."
"That much was obvious."
"You'd think you weren't happy to see me, Sir."
Snape's lips twitched a little at the cheek, before he crossed his arms, eyeing him; "You'd be right on that account, Potter. It would be far more preferable for you, these holidays, to have spent it out with the Castle; these walls are no longer as safe as they once were."
"Is it safe for us to even be talking about this?"
Snape's eyebrows raised a little; "Care to elaborate?"
"Well, he can see in my head now, can't he? Don't you think he'd be pretty pissed off –" Harry ignored Snape's disapproving look at the term; " – if he saw you advising me about my safety?"
"Let me worry about that, Potter."
"No, Sir. It's something we both have to be worried about."
Snape lifted his chin ever so slightly – a mannerism that Harry was beginning to realise was one that the man expressed in lieu of utter surprise – and regarded him, carefully, for a moment; long enough that Harry wondered if he was, maybe, using legilliemency on him.
"It seems the time away has been a rather enlightening experience for you, Mr Potter."
"Seems so."
"I am glad to hear it. Hopefully you shall be able to put this new determination to use when our lessons resume."
"Right now."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Right now," Harry repeated; "It's crazy that's we're taking breaks from these. We're about to go to war, he can look inside my head whenever he wants and he's coming after my sister. I need to be able to keep him out."
Snape was regarding him, coolly, with each statement that left his mouth – as if Snape didn't already know any of this, it was what he'd been trying to tell him before – but he seemed surprised, not at the information, but by the urgency with which Harry was talking about it all, now.
After a moment, the Potions Professor drew in a breath; "Dare I ask where you learned all of this, Potter?"
"I can't tell you," Harry said, before his lips twitched; "For your own safety, Sir."
Snape lifted his eyes towards the ceiling.
Harry shrugged; "You can look though."
Snape's eyes snapped back to his.
The two of them eyed one another for a moment, Snape seeming to think it were a challenge, a test. But it wasn't. Not this time. Harry wanted him to look because he daren't say the words out loud, now that he knew Voldemort might see it – would he be able to see inside his head, at the same moment, if Snape were to use legilliemency and pull forth his memories? Or did he just see out his eyes, at what Harry's were looking upon?
Snape would know, he guessed.
The man titled his head to the side, eyes still on his, and Harry could feel a faint stir in his head – not at all like the usual way the man would break past his, rather measly, barriers to look into his mind – and Harry knew that he had seen it, the exchange he had witnessed between him and his mum the night before, the second it happened for Snape's almost indifferent facial expression quickly changed into one a mixture of vexation and realisation.
Snape straightened up, the strange sensation in Harry's head leaving him.
"I suppose a lecture on the value of privacy would be too far above your head."
"Oh. Sorry, Sir. I didn't realise you had such strong opinions on the act of spying."
Snape closed his eyes, shaking his head in utter exasperation; "I don't find this new impertinence of yours particularly endearing, Mr Potter. Need I remind you that I am a Professor at this school, you are a student, and we are to conduct ourselves, as such."
"Fine. Impertinence dropped. Look, I get it now, alright?" Harry said, finally dropping the attitude; "You need me to know this stuff. I need you to teach me this. And, even if we don't care about each other, that doesn't matter because someone else who we do care about needs us to do this more. Right?"
Snape was looking at him, carefully, in the wake of his words, seeming to weigh them all up. But Harry really didn't get what it was he needed to think about, as all he had really said was they needed to get over themselves and do this for Grace.
After a moment, Snape finally nodded, slowly; "Alright." He reached into his robes, pulling out his timepiece to look at; "It is nine thirty; how about we resume our lessons first thing tomorrow morning –"
"No, now."
Eyes snapped from the timepiece, back to Harry, as he went on in elaboration.
"It's the holidays. I don't have curfew or classes or anywhere to be tomorrow, or for the next week and a half. So, unless you have something else more important to do, or somewhere else you have to be –"
Snape made to interrupt.
"- I don't mean that 'impertinently', Professor. I know you do have places you're going to need to be. But I don't. This is the only place that I need to be. So, I'm here, alright? And I'm not going away until we start and I actually learn all of this stuff."
A silence descended between them.
Not for long, though.
Snape didn't seem to need much convincing. And, for a second, Harry thought that the Potions Professor actually looked impressed with him – a fleeting glimpse of pride in his expression – but it was there and then it was gone and the timepiece was snapped shut and stowed away.
"Glad to hear it, Mr Potter."
The man nodded once at the spot in the middle of the room where Harry would always stand for this.
"You know what to do."
Harry drew in a breath, nodding in turn, and taking up place where Snape had indicated.
For the first time since he had learned the truth of all this this, yes. Harry finally did.