Thank you to everyone who reviewed!
0.0 Wow. Everyone really liked the last chapter. I'm honestly surprised. I don't know why, but for some reason I expected you all to hate it. I'm glad you didn't though. Very glad. You were all so surprised too. (^u^)
The review response on this story has just been amazing. The reviews increase notably with every chapter, and I think I've only gotten one or two bad ones. The rest have been good or helpful criticism. Thank you all so much for that.
The only complaint I really seem to have gotten is my responding publically to reviewers at the beginning of my chapters. I hadn't realized how much space it was beginning to take up, but looking back on those chapters now I see it. I'm just getting too many reviews to realistically keep doing that. Beyond that, I've had a couple people tell me that it is also against ffnet's rules to do so. I read through the rules, and they're really a little vague on that bit, but I've decided that it's better safe than sorry.
Thus, I will move to responding to reviews privately from now on, and I am going to edit the previous chapters to remove my review responses that are in them. I'm not sure how long I can continue to respond to reviews even privately, as the numbers go up with every chapter. If I begin to get too many, I may not be able to respond individually.
If, however, I have multiple people commenting on the same thing, or asking the same question, then I will do my best to include some sort of explanation or answer in my author notes. Once again I want to thank you all for the support, and I'm sorry for any inconvenience I've caused with my responses, or by my stopping them now.
Also, there's a scene this chapter that a friend told me came out sounding very differently than I intended for it to, so my author note at the end helps explain how I meant for it to feel.
Aside from that, we get to look into Harry's process of thought this chapter, someone finally tells Harry to think for himself, and we hear from Voldemort (sort of) for the first time. This is where I think things start to pick up a little, and we only have two more chapters left after this before the end of Part One. Then it'll be off to Part Two and all that that entails…
One more thing, you may have noticed that the poll has been closed. I did say that I had no plans to warn anyone. The number of voters has been tapering off lately, and there was someone far enough in the lead that I could make a guess at that not really changing. I will review our top three poll winners during chapter 8, as it is the last chapter of Part One.
Speaking of Part One, I have, officially, finished typing up Part Two, and it is 9 chapters long. That, plus Part One's 8 and the Introduction will mean 18 chapters by Part Three. I don't know for sure, but I think you can take this to mean that the various Parts will all have similar numbers, though at this point we could have anywhere from only 5 to as many as 7 parts. It simply depends on where I choose to take the story. Hope this helps everyone get a better visual on length. Also, one last note, based upon the poll winner, we may see our first meeting as early as during Part Three, depending on how things go, so it'll finally start to feel like a crossover by then.
'Raises glass' Here's hoping you enjoy.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Dear Kitten,
How are you doing? How are classes? Caused any good mischief lately? You haven't sent me any letters in a while. I imagine you must be busy, what with this being your O.W.L. year and all. I could help you with your studies, if you want. I wasn't so bad in school, after all. You could ask me anything.
Hope to hear from you soon,
Snuffles
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Dear Kitten,
You never did respond to my last letter. Is everything alright? Is that Umbridge woman making things difficult? You could always ask Snivellus to bring your letters along. I know you get on well enough with him, though I can't imagine how. I'll admit you've got me worried.
Reply when you can,
Snuffles
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Kitten,
I talked to Snivellus. He said he didn't have anything from you, and Umbridge isn't monitoring the mail. Are you alright? Did I upset you somehow?
Please reply,
Snuffles
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry, please talk to me.
Snuffles
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
I'm sorry. I don't know what I've done, but I'm sorry. Please, please talk to me. I just found you, I don't want to lose you too. Please tell me what it is I've done. I'll do anything. Are you mad at me for insulting Snape? I'll stop. I promise. I won't ever insult him again no matter what. Just please write back.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry stared down at the latest letter he had received that morning, guilt tearing into his heart with merciless claws. The writing on this one was messy, the ink smeared, and there were spots on it that Harry suspected may well have come from tears. He closed his eyes, laying his head down upon the desk and telling himself his eyes didn't burn. He was in the secret library. He had taken to finding his way here whenever he could. He had also taken to sneaking into the twins' dorm room and sleeping next to them at night.
They hadn't said a word to him about it; just accepting his presence with open arms and warm smiles. They knew something was troubling him, but they hadn't asked or pestered. They simply held him close at night and soothed him when he needed them to. It was much preferred to the endless questions he seemed to receive from Hermione.
He rubbed his eyes. He wasn't angry at Sirius. He didn't think Sirius even knew he was his son. The man talked about James and the similarities between him and Harry too much for him to think that he suspected James wasn't his father. He had been upset, yes, when thinking of Sirius and Lily betraying James in the way they must have done for them to be his parents, but he found that while the anger towards his mother had remained, the anger towards Sirius had quickly been washed away. He didn't think he could ever remain angry towards Sirius, towards his father for very long at all. The man had been through too much, was too traumatized by his time in Azkaban for Harry to feel any kind of harsh emotion towards him for long. It was part of the reason he had never been angry with Sirius for his actions all those years ago; for choosing revenge over Harry. He imagined he might have reacted much the same, if his temper were to have any say in the matter. It was a horribly Gryffindor reaction, he thought bitterly. He wondered if his heritage had anything to do with the sorting hat's desire to put him in the house of snakes. Had it wanted the same thing for Sirius? Or had it sorted him into Gryffindor as quickly as it had sorted Ron or Draco?
He ran a hand across the letters, moving them in an arc of sorts and closed his eyes. He hadn't meant to stop talking to Sirius. He just didn't know what to say. If the man really didn't know, then how was he to tell him? How was he to reveal what he knew? Not to mention all the questions he had. Besides that, this didn't feel like the sort of thing that should be spoken of in letters. He needed to see and speak with him face to face. Then there were all the questions he had that Sirius wouldn't be able to answer. The questions about his mother's heritage. The only person he could think of, in fact, that might be able to answer those questions, would be Lucius Malfoy; and he wasn't sure about trying. Lord Malfoy had never come across as kind the few times he had met him, but then, neither had many of those in Slytherin he had slowly come to know. Those in his year were usually fairly kind beneath their masks, and Lucius Malfoy had had much longer to perfect his facade than his son. There was no way of knowing for certain what may lay beneath or where his true loyalties lay.
The only people who might know would be Draco, as his son, and Severus, who had gone to school with him and served under Voldemort with the man. Draco would be suspicious if he started asking questions about his dad and family, and if he went to Severus, then he would have to say why he was asking. He had learned very quickly that the only person the potion master despised more than James Potter was Sirius Black. He had come to be friends of a sort with the grumpy git, and he had no idea how the knowledge of his true parentage might affect that. He growled at himself. Severus was better than that. He might have hated Harry originally, but upon getting to know each other, and having to trust one another as a result of the occlumency lessons, that hate had faded away almost immediately. He didn't think it would really come back.
Would it?
He groaned and banged his head against the desk repeatedly.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
She was in a corridor, sliding along on her belly. The cool stone felt good against her scales as she moved along them. She slipped under a door into a room with blue lights. There were rows and rows here of shelves filled with blue orbs. Her master wanted one of them. She needed to touch it. To see if she could. She was part of her master, and so might be able to take it.
Her nose suddenly flared with the scent of human and she stilled. There was a man walking near the shelves. He was tall, his hair the color of fire. He was the parent of the flame hatchlings. She moved towards him, and Harry cried out.
No! She froze, startled by the command, and he froze with her, startled at her obeying. Don't hurt him, he pleaded. She nodded in silence, slithering back to hide beneath one of the shelves while the man looked about, searching for intruders.
As you wish it. Her voice slithered through his mind. Master will not be pleased.
Why do you listen, if it betrays your master? He could not help but to ask, the burning curiosity he had come to associate with his animagus form churning through him relentlessly.
Because you wish it, brother-mine.
And the world faded to black.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry jerked awake, finding himself on the couch in the secret library yet again. His heart pounded against his ribcage and he sucked in breath after breath as though he were drowning. Wide green eyes stared up at the golden ceiling above him and he shuddered.
It wasn't a dream. He knew it wasn't. What he had seen was real. Terrifyingly, horrifically, real. He shifted into a sitting position slowly, cautiously, and looked down at himself. He closed his eyes as relief flooded his form like cold water. He had nearly expected to see the body of a snake when he had looked down. He sighed deeply, and stood up. There were several piles of books situated around the couch; books he had read or was reading. He maneuvered around them and headed to the door. He didn't know why his occlumency walls hadn't stopped this from happening, but right now it didn't matter.
He needed to speak to Dumbledore.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Dumbledore looked carefully at him with dark blue eyes, twinkle gone. This moment, he no longer seemed like the indestructible leader of the light to Harry, so much as just a very tired, very old, normal man. He looked as though the weight of all his years was currently bearing down upon his shoulders, and Harry felt horribly about imposing his problems on him, regardless of the fact that he needed to know. He had told the man of his vision, and of how his relatively good progress with occlumency should have prevented it, and every word seemed to age Dumbledore more and more before his very eyes.
"I see, and you're certain she referred to you as a sibling?" He nodded.
"She said brother-mine. She... She listened to me sir. I've had snakes obey me in the past, but... Nagini is Voldemort's familiar isn't she? There's no reason why she should ever listen to me..." Dumbledore nodded.
"You are correct, my boy. By all accounts, if what you saw was real, and I have reason to believe that it was, then she should not have followed your order. Still, I would count her strange actions as a blessing, since, had she not obeyed, Arthur might well be dying from her venom as we speak." Harry swallowed. "Her presence in the room you spoke of is upsetting..."
"What was that room, Professor?" The old man suddenly smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with my boy. It is a tale for another time, I'm afraid." Curiosity burned in his mind, but he nodded obediently. If he knew nothing else about the man, then he knew he was not likely to share information with him until he was good and ready to. He sighed and instead turned his eyes towards the golden perch to the side of the headmaster's desk.
Fawkes stared silently at him with dark eyes. His plumage, still as bloody red and beautiful as always, glinted almost gold in the sunlight streaming through the window. The phoenix had been watching him since he had entered the office. Before, the bird would occasionally fly to him to be pet, or at least coo in his direction, but now, he was quiet and kept away. Harry swallowed. He imagined, being a dark being as he now was, that such a creature of light probably wouldn't want much to do with him anymore. He forced his eyes away, pushing down the inexplicable grief that seemed to well up inside him.
He nearly jumped when his eyes met the headmaster's. The man was watching him carefully, and the knowledge in those eyes made him tense. It had been so long since he had faced the man before him, that he had forgotten the way he seemed able to look right through a person, as though he knew all their secrets; all the things that made them. His heart beat faster, his breath coming quicker.
"I'm glad you came to me, Harry. I would hope you might come to me with anything that troubles you." His heart panged.
"Of course sir." The old man smiled gently.
"Do you need anything else my boy? I'm afraid I have a bit of paperwork to take care of; one of the more unfortunate parts of being responsible for a school." The man turned a smoldering glare upon one of the stacks of paper on his desk, and Harry held back a laugh. He hesitated a moment as the amusement died. A feeling filled him, singing to him from deep inside his bones, and he knew he was at a crossroads. He met the headmaster's eyes and swallowed.
"No sir. There's nothing else."
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry sniffed at the air carefully, powerful muscles moving his large form forward silently. His whiskers twitched; green eyes with slit pupils narrowing as terrifying teeth were bared. He could smell deer nearby. He crept along, his sharp eyes seeing through the leaves and branches of the forbidden forest to the herd eating in the clearing before him. Deer were not uncommon in the forbidden forest, though the presence of such mundane creatures was almost comical when considering some of the other things this forest hid within itself.
His body tensed, claws scratching soundlessly into the earth beneath his toes. It was rare these days, that he might choose to hunt in the forest rather than go to the lake, but there was a sort of release he gained through hunting that the calming waters and helpful presence of merpeople just couldn't give him. He needed that release right now.
Like a spring suddenly released from tension, his body jolted forwards, barreling effortlessly through the branches. The deer scattered, but they were much too slow for him, and his target had very little chance of escape. He pounced upon his chosen buck and the creature went crashing into the ground. It struggled violently even as his mouth closed around its' throat. He snapped his jaws shut, the air around him filling momentarily with the sharp crunch of its' neck being shattered, and the prey fell still. His claws tore into it, ripping the hide from the meat; his human mind still uncomfortable with the thought of consuming fur, and he dug in.
His fangs tore easily through the bloody meat, and he swallowed bite after bite, pausing occasionally to lick the blood from his whiskers. Soon he had consumed nearly all of the torso, leaving the meat of the legs, neck, head, and hindquarters. He could smell wolves in the trees, and he left the rest of the meat for them. This was a common occurrence when he hunted. The wolves were proud creatures that generally preferred to hunt their own meals, but this small pack of only three or four was perfectly happy to devour his table scraps, as their territory was smaller and yielded less food than the territories belonging to the larger packs. He moved away from the deer's carcass, and lay on the ground cleaning his face and paws. The wolves waited a moment before venturing out, and ate carefully, making sure he was done and would allow them.
He paid them no mind, too busy with his grooming, and soon enough their hunger had them tearing into the meal in earnest, eating everything; even the hide. He knew from past occurrences that they would leave all but the bones, aside from the few they would take with them when they left. The wind shifted, and a new scent hit his nose. He had smelled it before, as the forest was filled with it, but had yet to identify it. He looked up.
The sight of the centaur surprised him, but he should have known he would come across them sooner or later. He was even more surprised when he recognized this one. While the horse half of the being was a brown in color, his hair was a golden blonde; his eyes startlingly blue. It was the same centaur that had let him ride it out of the forest in first year, after witnessing Voldemort, possessing Quirrell as he was, feed from the unicorn. He did not recall the centaur's name, if it had even given it to him, but he remembered that there had been another of the male's tribe who had been rather cross with him for allowing a human upon his back. There was recognition in those blue eyes, and he understood that, being what he was, the centaur had a much closer connection to magic, and likely knew exactly who he was, regardless of him being in his animagus form. He stood, lowering his head in respect, and the centaur smiled.
"I believed I might see you again, little one, though the stars did not foretell of your change in form." Harry shifted, the sounds of cracking and creaking bones filling the clearing as his body shrunk. Like with the merpeople, he felt no embarrassment at being nude before the centaur, knowing it wasn't something that mattered to the other. Humans were a strange bunch really, the only ones who honestly felt the need to cover their bodies. But then, he wasn't entirely human anymore…
"I remember you, from before. I never got the chance to thank you for helping me." He smiled hesitantly.
"Your gratitude is welcome, young one, though an unusual gesture, when coming from a wizard." Harry frowned.
"Not all wizards are the same, you know." The centaur nodded.
"Perhaps not, but there are enough who are too alike in their thinking." Harry sighed.
"I suppose you're right about that." The other came closer, stopping once he was near and lowering himself until the horse half of his body was laying down. Harry absently wondered how centaurs slept. He sat down next to him, their eyes still at very different levels, and the centaur looked down at him.
"I am called Firenze, by my people. You may call me the same, if you so wish." Harry smiled.
"Only if you call me Harry." He was reminded of Severus then, and how he had said the exact same thing to him, and looked away.
"You are troubled." He glanced back up at Firenze, but said nothing. "That is expected, I imagine. These are troubling times indeed, as Mars begins his rise through the heavens." The centaur turned his gaze skyward then, to the stars above them, and Harry followed his example. He knew that centaurs used the sky to predict the future, but he couldn't see what the other did. Still, the sparkling stars were beautiful. It was so different, to look at them here, where there were so many in different shades of white, blue, purple, and even red, than it was to look at the few he could see from the Dursley's home; clouded from his sight at they were by smog and other man-caused gases that filled the air. "There will be war soon, when Mars reaches his peak. Your place in it though, is still undecided, though your choices will influence how it ends, and, most likely, how long Mars adorns our skies." He looked at the being.
"But I already have my place." He frowned in confusion as those blue eyes looked to him. They were filled with so much wisdom; more, even, than he had seen in Dumbledore's eyes, despite the fact that the centaur was much younger.
"You believe that only because you know so little. As you learn, your loyalties may change." Harry's eyes narrowed, his pupils slitting in anger as his tail twitched irritably.
"Voldemort killed my mother. I would never side with him." The centaur didn't seem upset by his anger, merely looked at him calmly.
"He did." The centaur paused, turning his eyes back to the stars. "If a man tried to kill you, if you knew that you were going to die by his hand, would you kill him, in defense of yourself?" Harry blanched, having not expected the question, and turned his eyes down in thought.
"I... I would. If it would keep myself alive, I would kill him." He felt cold as he said the words, not truly wanting to speak them, yet knowing it was the truth. He didn't want to die, and if killing someone was the only way to keep himself alive, he would do it. The other nodded, seeming to have expected that answer.
"And what of his wife and children, who know nothing of his crimes against you? Do you not think they might wish you dead for having stolen their loved one away?" He stared up at him with wide eyes, and swallowed, finding himself unable to speak. The centaur looked down at him. "Voldemort believed you would be his death. He sought to defeat you before you would be capable of such a feat. He killed James Potter, because he knew the man would not back down, but he did not have to give your mother the chance to back away. He asked her to step aside, did he not? Why do such a thing when he could simply have killed her?"
"Even if that might be worth questioning, it still doesn't make up for all the people Voldemort has tortured and killed." Harry glared. The centaur nodded.
"No. It does not. But you must realize that Voldemort's mind is broken. His involvement in the black arts has changed him; altered him. It has driven him into insanity. Was there not a time, when he was still sane? There was a reason so many flocked to him, and to his ideals. They regret their choices only now that his mind has been lost, and his ideals and goals altered. Yet their own desires, are still much the same as they were when they joined him. It was not just purebloods who chose to follow Voldemort during his first reign. There were half bloods, and many creatures; my own people among them. Perhaps he was never a good man. But had he not meddled in such evil he would not have become the monster he is now. I am not saying you must join him, as, certainly, I would not. I am saying only that you must question the things you believe, and learn the truth. Not joining Voldemort does not mean that fighting for your Dumbledore is your only, or, indeed, your best, course of action. I wish only for you to take your own path, based upon your own beliefs and desires. I wish for you to fight for yourself, or not at all, if that were your desire." Harry stared at the centaur, his mind taking in his words as tension filled his body. The things the being spoke of made more sense in his mind than he wanted them to. Already his brain whirled with questions; some of the possible answers making his stomach churn. For the first time, Harry became violently aware of how very little he knew.
They didn't speak again after that, merely sat and watched the stars for hours, while Harry's mind whirled with questions. Eventually, the centaur left, a promise in his eyes to speak again, and Harry returned to the castle as the sun made its' way over the horizon. He went straight to the kitchens, knowing he would need some coffee if he was going to make it through the day.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry's head pounded all through potions class, and he spent most of his time glaring venomously at anyone who dared look in his direction. Severus had, apparently realizing his bad mood, chosen to ignore him for the day. He was thankful for this, since, regardless of their newfound sort-of-friendship, the man treated him just as he always had when they interacted in public. It was the reason they tended to avoid each other publicly, when they could, and Harry was certain the only ones who even suspected anything were the Slytherins.
Every beat of his heart had a thump-thump-thump bashing against his temples. The banging was terrible, and he growled loudly enough for Neville to hear him, as the other boy looked at him oddly. He waved off his concern and bore through the lesson, staying afterwards. He approached Severus' desk, and while the other afforded him a dark look of sorts, his face was pleasantly sans glare.
"Can I help you, Mr. Potter?"
"Do you have anything for headaches? And perhaps a pepper up potion? I... I didn't really get any sleep, and I don't think I'll make it through defense later without killing someone." His voice was unusually serious and cold for him, and he saw and heard both the concerned look the man's eyes as well as the equally concerned noise his inner animal produced. The dour professor stood without a word and moved to look through a cabinet at the side of the room. He handed Harry two potions, one of which was a dull red and had steamed up the vial it was held in, the other of which was an aquamarine color and thick like syrup. He drank them both without hesitation, pondering for a moment on how much he had come to trust the older male, and gave a sigh of relief as his headache fell away like water off the back of a duck. He felt refreshed, and shivered at the odd feeling that the steam spurting out of his ears gave him. He shook his head once it had passed, and turned grateful, and decidedly less temperamental, eyes upon his professor. "Thank you."
"Was it a vision?" Harry blinked when he realized the cause of the man's concern.
"Ah... No. I... I just have a lot on my mind is all." He couldn't quite decipher the potion master's expression.
"I see. You may go to your next class. Will you need a note?" He shook his head, and gathered his things in preparation for charms. He was nearly at the door when the man spoke again. "Harry!" He turned, startled, as he was still unused to the man using his first name. "I understand that we have never gotten along in the past, but if you should need someone to listen, I would like to be that person." He looked distinctly uncomfortable, the atmosphere a bit awkward. "My office is open on the weekends, from breakfast until an hour after dinner, and I am not above entering into a privacy agreement, if you deem it necessary." He wouldn't meet Harry's eyes, and the teen smiled.
"Thank you Severus." He slipped out the door without another word, though the grin remained all the way to his next class.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry lay that night in the twins' otherwise empty bed in Gryffindor tower, and something inside him ached. The twins had, just around dinnertime, finally implemented their plan for escaping Hogwarts. They had left in a spectacular manner involving fireworks, brooms, peeves, and a very irate Umbridge. At the time, Harry had laughed joyously alongside everyone else, but now, he only felt cold and sad and very very lonely. He was happy for them, going out with a bang as they had; off to open their shops and live proper lives where no one was likely to discover their secret.
Lee shifted in his bed, rolling over with a grunt and a snore. Harry glanced towards him and looked away. He imagined that he and Lee were likely the only ones who knew about the twins. There had been too many boys in the twins' year, and so they had been split into two dorms; their own containing only themselves and Lee. He curled into a ball, drawing the covers tighter around himself. It felt like everything was slowly falling apart. The whole world had changed. He had classes, and study, secrets, and new places to explore. There was the merpeople and their lake, the secret library and the tunnels and whatnot that led to them, and now the forest with its' meddling centaurs who just couldn't leave well enough alone. His head swirled with all the changes and new stimuli he had been left to process, and now...
Now he didn't even have the twins to lean on. His best friends had left, and he felt he had no one to turn to. Except, perhaps, Severus. Yet the man was so strange, his emotions and actions so volatile, that Harry was left uncertain as to whether or not he could truly trust the man. The twins had been there since the beginning; perhaps not that close to the friend of their younger brother, and perhaps not so trusted due to their mischievous nature, but there nonetheless. Yet with Severus, there was so much past animosity between the two of them, that Harry was left uncertain in the wake of their new relationship. He kept expecting to wake up and have the man hating him again, as though all the progress they had made had only been a dream. He walked on eggshells, terrified that his trust might possibly be misplaced.
And yet... The man had been as close to kind to him as he seemed able, recently. He had agreed to honor his privacy with magic, he had aided him in the protection of the D.A., and he had offered his confidence. The question now, was whether or not to take it. He needed to talk to someone. He knew that. He needed someone to confide in, someone he could speak to in person whenever he needed rather than by letter, or he would lose his mind. He needed someone to lean on; someone to prop him up and keep him from falling. There was no one else but Severus left, with the twins now gone, his friendship with Ron broken and his friendship with Hermione well on the way, and Sirius stuck at Grimmauld with all the new uncertainties about their relationship plaguing him.
But could he trust Severus? Not just to keep his confidence, but to not turn his back on him and go back to his previous ways at the first bump in the road?
…He didn't know.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry stood nervously outside Severus' office just after Sunday breakfast. He stared at the dark wooden door uncertainty, not knowing if he should knock or walk away, and still wondering how he had let his feet talk him into coming here. Thus far, the man had proven himself to be perfectly deserving of his trust, yet he couldn't keep his mind from returning to the years previous. Then he paused. For all the horrible ways in which Severus had treated him, he had still looked out for him. He had been, perhaps not a knight in shining armor, but an irritable dragon ready to snatch him away from harm's grasp. Even when he had despised Harry, he had still protected him.
His mind whirled with this new realization, and the possible implications, and, in the end, he raised his fist to tap confidently upon the wood. The sound echoed through the silent dungeon halls, and he waited patiently for an answer. A muffled demand to enter sounded from beyond the door, and he carefully opened it to peek inside. Severus sat at his desk, apparently grading papers as he bit his red quill irritably into some poor sod's essay. He glanced upwards when Harry did not immediately come in, and Harry did not miss the slightly startled look. He felt a pang in his chest at the thought that, regardless of his invitation, Severus had never actually expected that he might come to confide in him. Still, the man wiped his face clean of expression and motioned him in. He closed the door carefully behind him, so that it didn't make too much noise, and came to sit in one of the rather comfortable armchairs before his desk. The man watched him, and set down his quill, seeming perfectly ready to listen to whatever it was Harry had to say. His eyes were kinder than usual, his face softer, and Harry wondered if this was how the man looked at the Slytherins in private.
"H- how are you today sir?" Severus raised an eyebrow, recognizing a stall-tactic when he saw one, but allowing it.
"Well enough. Though I find this year's newest students are even more abysmal in my class than your generation." He sent a scathing glare down upon the papers on his desk, and Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle. He wasn't sure why it was funny, but the man sent a sort of half-smile his way in response, just shy of a smirk, so he supposed that it had been meant that way. "Even my snakes this year are dreadful. They appear to have heads, but I fear they're more empty within than a living man's coffin." He had never heard the man make anything close to a joke before, and his morbid sense of humor startled a laugh out of Harry. Severus' smile was more relaxed then, closer to a real one than a smirk, and Harry found himself grinning back. His nervousness, while still very much present, was not nearly so bad as it had been.
"I don't think anyone in Gryffindor would ever believe me if I told them you had a sense of humor. They'd probably have heart-attacks if they ever saw it themselves." Severus snorted.
"Indeed." They drifted into silence for a moment, and then the potion master eyed him carefully. "I imagine, as you are here, that there was something you wished to speak with me about." Harry bit his lip; a habit he had thought crushed some time ago that still occasionally popped up. "Would you like me to perform a privacy agreement?" Harry found himself shaking his head.
"I trust you..."
"Then what's troubling you?" Harry sighed, and worked up his courage. Was he a Gryffindor or wasn't he?
"I... I used that potion. The family one we made in class." The professor's expression clearly told Harry that was the last subject he had expected. "I... it's..." his breaths came quicker and he was shaking without having realized it. Severus stood, worry in his eyes, and came to kneel before his seat, placing a calming hand on his arm. He was struck by how very tall the man was, and just how small, how childlike, he was by comparison.
"What is it child?" Severus apparently saw his small form in the same manner, and the strange, for him, kindness and address coming from a man who had once hated him had the words spill from his mouth, even though they had seemed so impossible to say aloud only a moment ago.
"James wasn't my real father. I... I'm not even Harry Potter. It... it's all lies." He choked, only now realizing he was crying. Severus face and eyes flashed through a range of emotions, the first being shock, though most were entirely unreadable to Harry. It took the man a moment to come to his senses and then he was pulling a handkerchief from somewhere in his robes and wiping gently at Harry's face, which only seemed to make him cry harder. Without meaning to he was suddenly sobbing. He didn't know when he ended up out of his chair and in his professor's arms, but the man's soothing and indecipherable words in his ears and calming arms around him were all he could feel.
Somehow, saying it aloud had only made it all the more real, and all the more painful, and Harry felt his grip on the world slipping away.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Harry sniffed, staring at the fire. They weren't in the office anymore, though he was still in the potion master's arms. He didn't know where they were exactly, but the fire in the fireplace was warm and comforting and they were set upon what he thought was probably a couch. Or rather, Severus was on the couch and he was in the man's lap. He took in slow, shaky breaths. He felt so empty. He hadn't realized just how bothered by it all he has been until he was sobbing uncontrollably into the professor's robes. A hand was carding gently through his hair. He had never had anyone do that before. It felt nice, even as a touch of shame curled in his belly at his having reacted the way he had. Boys weren't supposed to cry, right? It was only okay for girls to do, or maybe if someone died or something… Boys were supposed to be strong, they were supposed to man up, not sob like children.
"Are you feeling better?" He nodded. "Would you like some tea?"
"Yes please." His voice sounded strange. It was hoarse and cracking. He wondered if that was from the crying, or his current shame. The man pulled him carefully from his lap to set him on the couch. He sunk into the soft cushions a bit, and then the man wrapped a blue blanket about him. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but it was soft and warm, and he pulled it tighter about himself, feeling safer. When had the world changed so much? Severus walked away, and soon Harry heard the faint sounds of clinking metal and glass, and the sound of the opening and closing of a cupboard or cabinet. He sighed, and curled up beneath the blanket, only now looking up, and about himself.
It looked like a living room of sorts, decorated in shades of brown, blue, and green. It was homey, and nice, and he could see a bedroom with a large poster bed through a doorway to his left. There was another, doorless opening next to it, from wherein he could hear Severus moving about as he prepared the tea, and he could see just the edge of a table, with a chair at it from beyond the entryway. He imagined it was a kitchen and dining room within, and looked away, his eyes drawn back to the fire. This place was nice, and warm, and comforting. Was this where Severus lived? How had they gotten here? He could hardly remember moving. Was is connected to the man's office? They couldn't possibly have gone far.
"Here." He took the tea gently. It was in a mug rather than a teacup. The color was different than what he was used to, it looked almost purple, but when he tasted it, it was sweet, with a undertone of honey. He sipped it with a hum, as the temperature was perfect. He felt calm as he did so, and wondered if the odd coloring came from the addition of a calming potion. He found he wasn't much bothered by the thought. "How are you feeling?" He questioned, settling himself into an armchair across from Harry with his own mug in hand.
"Better. I guess I hadn't realized how upset I was. It felt different to admit it out loud than it had in my head." Severus nodded, seeming to understand perfectly.
"Did you want to talk about it more? We can leave the subject be, if you would be more comfortable." He eyed his professor. He could see the burning curiosity in those eyes, mixed as it was with so many other emotions he couldn't identify, but he knew If he wanted it, that Severus would leave it be.
"I think I can talk about it. I don't believe I'll get so upset now." The man nodded, and was silent. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to speak now, and, after a few minutes of quietly drinking his tea, he did. "Sirius is my father." The man blanched and he watched him carefully. His face played through a range of expressions, and Harry wondered how he could have ever thought the man was emotionless. Soon his expression began to sour, and Harry tensed. Yet the man paused, closed his eyes and breathed in deep. He continued breathing deeply for a few moments, his face softening all the while, until the anger had been washed away. There was no hate in his eyes when he opened them and looked at Harry, and he found himself very much relieved.
"I suppose this would explain why he keeps pestering me at meetings, saying that you're no longer returning his letters." His voice was measured, perhaps irritated, but not angry, and Harry relaxed into the cushions.
"I didn't mean to. I'm not upset with him. Not really. I just... I don't know what to say." Severus nodded.
"I would imagine that it's not a subject for letters." Harry hummed.
"It's more than that though... It's not just about Sirius. It's about my mother too. Her name..." He looked down in thought, oblivious to the emotions playing violently across his professor's face.
"Her name?" He nodded, not looking up.
"My mother's maiden name was supposed to be Evans, but on the paper it was Malfoy. I... I don't really understand how that can be, because she's supposed to be a muggleborn, and... Well, Malfoy isn't exactly a common name, is it?" He was still looking down, and so was left entirely unaware of the struggle Severus seemed to be going through as his emotions warred with each other. There was silence for a time, and Harry's eyes eventually moved back to the fire. He didn't realize it, but it was nearly half an hour before the silence was broken again.
"Have you told anyone of this?" He looked back to Severus and shook his head.
"The only ones I might have told would have been the twins, but by the time I worked up the nerve they had pulled their stunt and left. I've been trying to think of a way to tell Sirius, at least about the father part, but I don't think I want to tell him about my mom." Severus frowned.
"Why not?" He shrugged.
"I just... I don't think he really needs to know, is all." He nodded, accepting Harry's response.
"I suppose... I could speak with Albus, and see if we can't set up a visit to Grimmauld place next weekend. That woman is unable to monitor my private floo, so if you wished to speak with... your… father... in person, it might be possible." Harry blinked in surprise, mouth falling open a moment before he smiled.
"I... would appreciate that, Severus." The man nodded.
"Very well then, I'll set up your meeting with the mutt." His face looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, and Harry couldn't help but to laugh.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
Life, for Harry, seemed to calm considerably during the week after their talk. Severus had promised him he would tell no one, not even Dumbledore, of the things Harry had learned in regards to his parentage, and Harry believed wholeheartedly that it was a promise he would keep. He was nervous about the coming weekend, but, for the most part, his stress had gone down quite a bit. He didn't feel as though the world was caving in around him anymore, at any rate. He had decided that no one else needed to know about his mother's true heritage unless it was absolutely necessary, and Severus had seemed rather pleased with him when he had told him so. He imagined that, sooner or later, most of the people he was connected to would learn of his relation to Sirius, but for now, he wanted to try and keep it on a need-to-know basis.
He was less nervous than he had thought he would be when thinking of the quickly approaching meeting with his father. He figured that might have something to do with Severus' promise to come with him, and be there all the while in case he was needed. He had welcomed the thought of having someone in his corner, so to speak, as it seemed like a rare occurrence these days that he did.
Severus informed him during their usual Thursday-night occlumency lesson that he would be expecting Harry at his office after breakfast on Saturday. Now, it was Friday night, and, though he really shouldn't be, Harry found himself walking through the forest sans-glamour. He didn't even turn to look when he heard the clopping sound of hooves coming near him, and soon the light of the waning moon above him was hindered slightly by the form of the centaur walking beside him.
They traveled in silence for a bit, until the trees broke and Harry found himself entering into a small glade with a little pond. He wandered over to it, and looked in. The water rippled slightly in places, so there were fish, but it wasn't much wider than he was long when in animagus form, and there was no explanation for where the water had come from. If he was a muggle, he might suspect the odd little pond was man-made; as it was, he imagined that wild magic likely had something to do with its' creation. He sat by it, calmly looking at the beautiful reflection of the moon upon its' surface, and only looked upon his companion when the other had rested himself beside him; horse-body in a laying position just as before. He smiled warily at him then. He liked Firenze well enough, though he didn't much like the things the centaur seemed to want him to think about.
The other said nothing at first though, merely smiled gently and looked at him with those wise eyes before turning them to the sky. Harry joined him in his star-gazing for a time, and all was quiet and peaceful. He wasn't sure how long had passed before the centaur chose to speak, but he found he had grown incredibly relaxed, and had long since chosen to lay on his back while he stared at the stars; his tail twitching lazily against his leg.
"You go to meet with your sire tomorrow." Harry hummed a noncommittal sound, not much surprised by the centaur's knowledge. "Do not be surprised if the meeting seems unfavorable. I imagine you and your family will be happy in time, however." A spike of nerves churned in his stomach, but he nodded and forced himself to relax. Firenze turned his blue eyes upon the teen. "I would like to apologize." Harry looked up at him, startled.
"For what?"
"I did not mean to trouble you when last we met. I wish only for you to make your own decisions, based upon truth, rather than you be forced down one path through what others tell you. Humans are naturally biased. They make their own opinions, not always based upon fact, and then seek to impose that opinion, that belief onto those around. Those around them accept their thoughts and beliefs as though they were facts, and it spreads further, like a sickness. One such as you, who faces so much, should not be infected by such sickness." Harry listened carefully, and nodded.
"I understand. You were right too, about how little I knew; how little I know. I won't say I fully understand what you expect me to do just yet, or what path I'm supposed to take, but I've been thinking a lot. There's a lot I've been questioning lately. It's not in my power to find all the answers just yet, but I'm starting to notice a few things that don't add up."
"Would you like to share your thoughts?" He shook his head.
"I think I'd rather wait until I'm more certain about some things." Firenze nodded, but something in his eyes told Harry he knew more than Harry did about it all. Like before, they were silent for a time, and eventually the centaur left. This time though, Harry would have a few hours to sleep before he needed to be up.
The next morning, Harry quickly ate his breakfast and met with Severus. The man nodded at him and led him to his office fireplace. With a call of the address, he through the powder into the fire. Harry stepped into the green flames and disappeared.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalala
I remember this time just a few years back. I was probably fourteen or fifteen, and I was really stressed out. School was wearing on me, my mom was sick with cancer, and after just having lost my grandma to the same disease a couple years previous I was terrified of losing her. I was dating someone then. Some girl I don't even remember the name of now, and she had sort of become my rock without me realizing it. I depended on her to keep me going with everything else looking like it was falling apart, and then one day she dumped me. I wasn't in love or anything, and honestly our relationship had been better when we were just friends, so I wasn't really that upset about the breakup itself. It was more that it looked like the world was crumbling around me and I couldn't do anything. It was the loss of control that upset me.
All day I just sort of felt numb, and then I came home. My dad was there. He and my mom worked a lot back then and the house was almost always empty when I got home, but for some reason he was home that day. I think he had a short day, or was off or something. Anyways, I remember walking through the door and seeing him, and he smiled at me and said 'welcome home' and smiled at me. That was all he did, but it was like he shot the numbness away and I started bawling like a baby. I couldn't stop.
I'm tall. Taller than my dad. I was taller than him then. And he still picked me up and put me in his lap and held me till I was done crying like a was five years old. Then he made me pizza and gave me my first beer. We sat there for three hours watching stargate sg1, eating pizza, and getting drunk, and my mom came home that day to the two of us laughing our asses off about something that wasn't even that funny. By the next day, I had a headache, but I could barely remember what had made me sad in the first place.
I hadn't cried that hard since I was ten, and I haven't done so since then (I'm almost twenty now). But that day, despite everything else that happened, and despite feeling like a crybaby later on, is one of the best memories I have about hanging out with my dad. That's what the Severus-comforting-Harry scene felt like to me. The whole time I was writing it, I thought of that.
The only other thing I feel the need to make a note on, is Firenze. In case it wasn't clear enough, he wasn't trying to make Harry see Voldemort as a good person, or even a potential ally, he was simply trying to get our little animagus to question things and think for himself. Voldemort is evil in this fic, plain and simple, and he will remain that way. The centaur wasn't attempting to make Harry see any redeemable qualities in him, but rather in others. The more Harry begins to question the things around him, the more he begins to look closely at the more difficult things; the more he will learn and grow, and the more he will discover about people.
I hope you all liked this chapter. I know nothing has really been explained about Harry's, and we haven't had our confrontation with Sirius yet, but I still hope you liked it. I promise those things will come with time though, so just be patient.
Sincerely,
Mr. Hate