Disclaimer: Well… some of the cool ideas are mine. But the main idea is not, so...yeah… not mine. It's hers.
Did you read chapter 32 first? You would not have gotten an alert for it.
excessivelyperky rocks. Thanks so much for accompanying me on this journey. It's been an amazing ride, but I am looking forward to relaxing for a bit and seeing how The Birthday Present turns out. Thanks again, your invaluable help has truly been valued.
Bigstew has been very helpful on the last few chapters as well, so thanks Stew. You rock!
Kirinin did the griffin's share of the editing on this chapter as well. Thanks a bunch Kirinin, you're the coolest. That takes nothing away from the lovely and talented excessivelyperky,or the eager and dedicated Bigstew. Thanks all of you for all your help.
Enjoy
Chapter 33
The Cup Runneth Over
Harry took in the fog like surroundings on the dais and swallowed once before he spoke to the forbidding figures of Snape and the Headmaster. He hated that the Headmaster looked so cross because no matter the circumstances, he was so happy to see him he wanted nothing more than to throw himself in the old man's arms. He controlled the impulse with effort and tried to figure out what was expected of him.
"That was some sort of test then, was it?" he asked tentatively.
"It was," the Headmaster admitted a trifle sadly.
Bugger, Harry thought.
"And I failed, I reckon?" The young man asked nervously.
"Spectacularly," Snape admitted dryly, causing Harry to wince.
"So then I guess we are all…?"
"Dead. Quite." Snape confirmed with a sneer.
Harry shifted a bit uncomfortably as both men continued to stare. He was relieved when the Headmaster finally relented. Dumbledore wrestled the Angelth from Snape's angry grip and gently placed it back on Harry's neck. A gentle old hand straightened the locket on the chain and Harry grabbed the hand before it could escape. He pressed it to his heart, and then moved it to caress his cheek, and touch his head, until finally it moved of its own volition. Albus carded his fingers through the messy hair, and then moved his hand to the back of Harry's neck and gave it a bit of a squeeze as Snape had often done. Then as Snape had never done, Albus pressed his thin lips to the boy's forehead.
"Harry, my boy," the Headmaster intoned kindly. "We have considerable work to do to clean up this mess, hmm? Well," he said taking in both wizards with an affectionate grin. "Shall we get started boys?" he asked, his eyes twinkling madly.
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Harry seemed to neither hear nor understand the Headmaster, and Severus scarcely did himself as he watched the young man's gaze travel about the dais. Comprehension dawning deeper and deeper, as his horrified, guilty gaze swung back to Severus, seeming to have just worked out the magnitude of what he had done. Severus was still feeling exceedingly vexed. It was hard to banish the image of Harry stalking boldy into the chamber and taking his life with something akin to nonchalance.
"Why?" Harry cut off whatever Albus had been trying to explain with an anguished whisper.
When he was given a typically Albus, convoluted, evasive response Severus was surprised that it only took him a full five seconds before Harry began his rant. There was shouting, flailing of limbs, and profanity to spare. If the dais had contained any furniture there would be throwing as well. Severus let it go on for what he felt was a reasonable amount of time before he put a stop to it.
"Enough, Potter," Severus bellowed. "While Albus has perhaps indulged you in this type of tantrum of in the past, you and I have gotten to know each other well enough for you to know I'll certainly not stand for it," he advised in a warning tone.
While he was relieved when the boy stopped himself mid-rant, he was wholly unprepared for it when the young man started to weep. Huge tears began to fall from green eyes and he lowered his head as if shamed by them. The remarkable thing was that he made not a sound. Severus watched in dismay as the small shoulders shook and the young man wrapped his arms around his middle as though in an attempt to console himself.
Severus shifted his dismayed expression in Albus' direction and he could tell by the man's stern visage that he would get no help from that quarter. Snape decided perhaps he should have edited his opinion as to what Albus would tolerate from Potter versus what he would put up with himself. Severus always felt he was rubbish at this sort of thing, but he had managed to console many a homesick first year during his tenure as head of Slytherin House. He approached the young man tentatively, as one might a wounded animal, and he slowly enfolded him in his arms. Harry's reaction was immediate as though he had long been hungry for such contact, and he almost violently wrapped his arms around Severus' middle. Snape felt that perhaps the boy was trying to burrow his skull through his shoulder, so forcefully did the raven head press against his clavicle. After a few moments of drenching the front of Severus robes, Harry seemed to gain some mastery of himself with a long shaky breath and a slight loosening of his grip.
"I've had a rough day," Harry admitted his voice muffled against the man's robes.
"As have I," Severus intoned snidely, his warm breath ruffling the top of the raven head. "A reckless, irresponsible brat of a boy has murdered me at the Dark Lord's behest."
"Wasn't at his behest," Harry corrected sullenly. "I decided to do it on my own."
"Ah," Snape intoned sarcastically "That is of course much better."
"I didn't mean to," Harry explained as he pushed out of the embrace and took a deep shuddering breath. "The Angelth was empty, and I just sort of lost it, thinking the whole summer had been a lie. This darkness just seemed to take me," he admitted.
Snape graced Albus with an accusatory glare.
"You didn't mention you planned to deny him the Angelth as well," he chided the old man.
"It was quite necessary, Severus," Dumbledore explained quietly. "We needed to ensure that Harry relied only on himself and his essential goodness."
"Well that turned out bloody brilliantly didn't it, Albus?" Severus retorted with a bit of heat.
"Severus I'm not certain this is the right time for this…" the old man complained.
"No, Albus," Severus interrupted. "We shall certainly make time for this."
Snape reached one strong hand out toward Harry and laced his long fingers through the coarse hair at the base of young man's neck. He pulled the boy's head to his heart and pulled Harry himself into his soul. As they embraced along the Occlumency pathway, he explained it all, as Albus had not, before he put a firm, steadying hand on each of the young man's shoulders and released him.
"Wait…essential goodness," Harry repeated the phrase from both Albus' previous statement and the information imparted via the link. "What essential goodness? I bloody killed him Headmaster," he argued looking at Snape. "There's no essential goodness. There was just this darkness that tried to take me three times!"
"Three times you say?" The Headmaster quipped as he cast a side long glance at Severus.
"Yes, sir. Three." Harry admitted his voice quavering slightly. "And the last time, as you can see, it won." For a moment it seemed to Severus the young man might lose control again.
"I assume on your first two attempts you were able to keep it at bay?" Dumbledore queried.
"Yes, sir," Harry acknowledged reluctantly.
"Therein lays your essential goodness, Harry," the old man explained gently.
"But, Headmaster," he argued. "You didn't feel it. It was like the darkest magic you can image, and it was like it was alive and fighting for control of me."
"And you were able to defeat it, twice you say?"
"Look, Headmaster," Harry sighed, sounding a bit irritated. "You've got it all wrong. With all due respect, you always have. I'm not some paragon of purity you've always made me out to be. I'm just an average, ordinary wizard. And in the end the darkness kicked my bum. I lost, sir. You've always made me out to be something I'm not." The young man was nearly shouting at the end.
"Harry," Albus corrected kindly, "I have never made you out to be anything. You simply are who you are. Furthermore, we have not yet reached the end. This is very much the purview of ordinary wizards. And you, Harry, are the only wizard for this task. However, I do confess to thinking you perhaps slightly above average."
"Task, sir?" Harry inquired insolently. "It'd be nice to be told about some of these tasks beforehand. This was all you, wasn't it?" Harry accused. "All of it. You made him do all that," he indicated Snape. "The capture. The Occlumency link. Everything."
"I have not made Severus do anything," Albus insisted.
He gave Severus a strict look when the man made a doubtful choking noise.
"Severus was simply doing his duty according to prophecy. As were you and as you will continue to do," the Headmaster ordered his tone growing stern.
"Continue to do?" Harry asked in confusion. "But we are all dead aren't we?"
"Very much so," Albus admitted, looking around the dais. "But that does not mean we can afford to relax."
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Harry looked at Snape incredulously and the man gave him one of those little half smiles that Harry had grown fond of.
Harry sighed and looked at the Headmaster.
"What's next then?" the young man asked.
"Next, Harry," the old man explained, with a fond smile. "You must travel back in time to a point where you feel it might be possible to repair and develop your relationship with Severus so the events that transpired today will never come to pass."
"Okay," Harry responded speculatively. "You mean like back to when I looked in the Professor's pensieve?" He asked.
"No, don't start there," Severus warned, shaking his head emphatically.
"Why?" Harry asked defensively.
"Why?" Severus mimicked incredulously.
"Severus," Dumbledore suggested, "Perhaps it best if Harry make decisions regarding how to determine the appropriate time frame independently."
"Why?" both Harry and Severus questioned in unison.
"It is simply something that might be best for Harry to decide autonomously," Dumbledore said by way of explanation.
"Merlin, Albus!" Snape spat irritably. "First the boy has to battle darkness. Alone. Next he must determine how to fix the mistakes he made while battling darkness. Alone. Not to mention that he must go back in time. Alone. Are the directions to this prophecy written down somewhere?" Severus asked sarcastically. "Or is this straight from Albus' Almanac for Above Average Wizards? Merlin's beard, man…"
"Severus," Albus scolded.
"Because I'm fairly certain," Snape continued snidely. "That was the volume you were referencing when you were training me, and look how splendidly I turned out," he railed
"Now, Severus," Albus repeated firmly.
"Why must he decide alone? He's just a child, Albus. A little guidance wouldn't be out of line here," Severus opined.
"Hey, I'm seventeen," Harry complained.
"Hush, Harry," both wizards responded in sharp unison.
"Severus," the Headmaster explained in an unyielding tone. "Whatever Harry does it must be his choice. It will be ineffective if he makes a choice based on your undue influence.
"That makes about as much sense as…" Severus opened his mouth to say. Then he thought better of it and closed it. Finally, he crossed his arms sullenly. Harry looked back and forth from one man to the other until his eyes came to settle on Snape.
"It is a mistake to choose that time frame," the Potions Master blurted, collecting a stern glare from Dumbledore.
"How's it a mistake?" Harry asked curiously.
"That time frame is far too late for you to get me to begin to care about you," Severus opined, continuing to ignore Albus' disapproving expression.
"Severus," the Headmaster warned. "It is paramount…"
"I won you over after the pensieve incident this time around," Harry reminded arrogantly.
"The pensieve incident? Snape sneered. "Is that how you refer to it in that pea sized brain of yours? And what makes you think you've won me over, Potter?" Severus asked indignantly.
"Severus," the Headmaster admonished.
"Well it certainly isn't the compliments you lavish upon me, sir. But I'm fairly certain you are actually fond of me now," Harry stated confidently.
"I am not," Severus denied, sounding more than a bit irritated to be accused of such.
"No? Who was it that hugged me not ten minutes ago?" Harry taunted.
"I would not have been forced to," Snape bit out, "if you hadn't insisted on crying like a little Huffle--,"
"Severus!" The Headmaster interrupted sharply.
"puff girl!" Snape finished snidely.
"Oh ho! Ouch!" Harry responded, grabbing his chest. "If I haven't won you over," Harry continued having far too much fun, "why didn't you do what you normally do when you see someone crying, eh? You know, poke them with a sharp stick or something?" Harry suggested cheekily.
"You should count yourself lucky I don't have a stick, boy," Severus responded menacingly as he advanced on the younger man.
"Harry, Severus," Albus warned sharply.
"We're only joking, sir," Harry explained and chuckled a bit at Snape's doubtful expression. "I think we are, anyhow. And I will make the decision alone." Harry told the Headmaster, who looked relieved, Harry thought. "But first I'd like to get a bit of advice if that's all right," he explained. "A little guidance wouldn't be out of line, right?" the young man quipped, addressing himself to Snape.
"No it would not," Severus gave the Headmaster a smug look, which made Harry a bit uncomfortable.
"Humph," the old wizard muttered as he conjured a lounge chair and sat down.
"You can do magic in Heaven?" Harry asked, eyeing the comfy seat.
"In this part of Heaven you can," the Headmaster confirmed.
"Wicked," Harry intoned. "What part of Heaven are we in?"
"We are in the North West corner of Limbo, and I must say that wicked is a very poor word choice given the situation," Dumbledore reproved, sounding a bit miffed.
"Right. Sorry, sir, " Harry agreed, feeling bothered that the Headmaster was bothered and wondering if he should apologize or something for being flippant. "I'd like your advice too sir," he told the old man.
After a pause Dumbledore donned an indulgent expression. "Only if that is truly your wish, Harry," he said as he transformed the lounger into a colorful floral print sofa and motioned for the two younger wizards to take a seat.
After much discussion Harry was convinced that it did make sense to go back a bit earlier. That way he could keep the pensieve incident from ever happening at all. Harry's final decision was to go back to his first day of Potions class when he was a first year. Snape was a bit apprehensive.
"Are you prepared? That was an intense day, and rather a difficult place to start," he warned.
Harry stuck by his choice so Dumbledore would be satisfied that he wasn't letting himself be unduly influenced. There came a time when Albus asked Harry in a rather formal way if his mind was completely made up. When Harry agreed it was a mid sized translucent platform, about the size tea table, rose from the dais in front of the transfigured couch. On it stood a single wooden chalice. Harry pulled his knees close so they wouldn't be bumped and stared at the little platform curiously.
"Did you do that?" He asked the Headmaster, for the old wizard had not so much as lifted a finger.
"No, my boy, you did," the Headmaster said kindly and proceeded to reach for the goblet. "This is the cup of life," he explained lifting it gingerly by its stem and showing it to each wizard in turn. "As Harry gains success in his journey through the past this cup with fill with love and each of you will drink from it thereby atoning for previous mistakes and securing victory for the Light."
Here Dumbledore paused before beginning again as if to give what followed the proper weight.
"If Harry should fail this cup will grow dry, brittle, and warped and begin to sustain cracks and other injuries. This will reduce its ability to hold love. While it would take many such failures to render this cup of life insufficient to the task, you will have but three remaining chances to fill it."
Harry's mind for some reason keyed into the word remaining and he found himself needing to ask.
"Remaining, sir?" the young man began. "You said remaining. Does that mean there were opportunities before?"
"There were, Harry," the old man admitted. "There were three others during your brilliant fight against darkness in the chamber."
"You saw what happened in the chamber?" Harry wanted to know.
"Indeed," the Headmaster confirmed. "I saw it here," he indicated the foggy surface of the platform. Now that Harry looked at it closer he could see shadowy figures moving just beyond the surface. "Severus and I will view your continued progress here as well," he supplied.
"You said I made the cup appear," Harry said. "When did it appear before?"
"I can not be certain," Dumbledore answered. "You had just cast a Lumos and were in excruciating pain."
"Did it fill at all?" Harry asked, as he looked at the cup, somehow feeling his failure in the chamber more keenly than ever.
"Indeed it did, and gloriously well," Dumbledore's voice was full of pride. "If began to fill magnificently when you sent your family to safety and shielded your Uncle, then drained half way when you attempted the killing curse on Voldemort. It filled up again, almost to the brim, when you spared little Peter Pettigrew. Then it drained a final time, when you cursed Severus and the cup sustained a crack just there," the Headmaster pointed to a deep, ugly gash near the bottom of the cup, and Harry examined it with regret.
"Would you have drunk from it then, Albus?" Snape asked the Headmaster in an amazingly quiet voice.
"I would have been allowed," the Headmaster acknowledged. "And one cup would have released me from Limbo while still securing victory for the Light."
"It would have brought you back to life?" Harry asked excitedly.
"No, dear boy," the Headmaster said sadly. "It would simply release me from this place to join lost friends. It would take far more than one cup to sustain me."
"How many?" Harry wanted to know.
"Now, Harry," the Headmaster began, his voice going stern. "That is nowhere near your primary concern."
"How many, Albus?" Severus insisted.
"The cup would have to run over," Dumbledore explained after a pause. "But, a single cup will be more than enough to secure redemption for you two."
Harry was surprised to discover that the surface of the platform could be breached. And he actually entered through the top as one would a pensieve. But there the similarity ended because it was not a memory he entered, but real life. Harry felt his body shrink impossibly small, and suddenly he was sitting between a miniature Ron and Hermione in the first day of his first year Potions class. Snape slamming the doors wide upon his entrance startled the boy badly though he had lived it all before. If anything he found himself more frightened than the first time because he had the knowledge of how badly things had gone before, and how very much was riding on it now. Then Snape was talking and Harry took up his quill to write in and attempt to calm his nerves. It wasn't until the man called his name nastily that Harry realized his mistake and remembered that Snape had been irritated by what he thought was Harry's inattentiveness the first time around.
Snape leveled the standard insults about Harry's celebrity status and then began firing off a series of difficult questions. They were ridiculously difficult for first year. But Harry wasn't a first year and had been studying all summer to boot. He found himself answering the questions on instinct. Harry vaguely became aware that Snape was asking many more questions than he had the first time around. It wasn't until the man was furious that Harry recalled what Snape warned would have happened if Harry had actually known the answers to the questions.
Snape had told Harry, the night they brewed the Nochebuena potion, that it would have made him loathe the boy more. Harry had to admit, the man was as good as his word. One hundred points Harry lost in all. A whopping 98 more than he had lost the first go around.
This fact the current day Snape was quick to point out after he had dragged Harry out onto the dais and sat him roughly on the couch next to a slightly frowning Albus.
"One hundred, bloody points," the man bellowed at seventeen year old Harry. "And what in Merlin's realm possessed you to call me Snape?"
Eleven year old Harry had done that this time around. It had slipped out when he was trying to discuss the points deductions.
"Please, Snape," eleven year-old Harry had beseeched, and that was when the month's detention was assigned.
"It slipped. I call you that sometimes now," seventeen year old Harry explained from his place on the couch next to Albus.
"Well, stop it!" Snape ordered as he paced about the dais and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Yes, sir," Harry agreed and leaned forward to chance a look at the cup. He sighed with relief when he didn't see and new cracks, but it was then that Albus chose to speak.
"The cup was shaking quite violently, as if it might explode and we both thought it best to bring you back."
Harry leaned back into the couch his shoulders slumping slightly, and wondered how things had gotten out of hand so fast.
"You were reckless. You didn't think. You said you were prepared, but you weren't," Snape accused, his voice a bit less strident, but not much.
"I was there, you know," Harry heaved a great sigh. "Do you think you might stop yelling at me some time soon, sir?"
"Why?" Snape asked snidely. "You should be used to me yelling at you when you do something stupid. One would think you would have come up with a more effective reaction to it by now."
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No amount of discussion could convince Harry that his next trip into the past should not be the day of the pensieve incident.
"But you said it yourself, sir," Harry argued with Snape, "I should react better when I get you mad by doing something stupid. I think if I just go back and make a sincere apology you'll…"
"Kill you," Snape supplied. "Then Albus in the past will surely kill me, and we will all wind up back here anyway," he summed it all up.
"But if I could have just explained it at the time," Harry insisted. "I only looked because I thought there was something about me in there. Then when I looked, I only stayed because I wanted to see my dad. I was so sorry afterwards," Harry explained. "Really sorry, and I wasn't going to gossip about. I never did tell my friends what I saw. Don't you think if I told you that it would help?" Harry asked Snape.
"Yes," Snape admitted. "I think if you told me that it would mean a great deal," Snape paused. "However, if you tell him," Snape vaguely indicated the smoky surface of the platform. "He is liable to do you serious bodily harm."
"Come now, Severus," Albus put in. "I think you are exaggerating a bit."
"I'm not, Albus," the man assured him.
"However, if Harry remains convinced…" Albus intoned.
"Fool," Snape spat with an angry shake of the head at Harry.
A few moments later, Severus sat beside Albus, gazing into the surface of the platform at a slightly shorter Harry and an extremely enraged Snape.
"Is this an exaggeration of your actual reaction?" Albus asked in concern as he watched a jar of cockroaches explode against the stone wall of the dungeon.
"No, Albus," Snape told him crossing his arms. "Thus far it is an exact replica of my reaction.
"Dear me," the Headmaster breathed and they both leaned forward and stared into the cup, which remained impassive for the moment. Then Potter from the past began to speak and it started to vibrate ever so slightly.
"I'm ss-sorry, Professor," Harry was saying in a slightly shaky voice as he shook glass and roaches from his untidy mop of hair. "I only looked in the pensieve because I thought there might be something about me, and…"
That was as far as Harry got before Snape from the past grabbed the front of his robes and slammed him violently into the door causing him to smack his head sharply.
"Please, sir," Harry from the past brazened on. "I just want to say…"
"I have no interest in what you wish to say," Snape spat menacingly, "you vile, meddlesome, inexcusable little horror!" Emphasizing his words with actions, the Potions Master from the past grabbed Harry by the upper arm and threw him bodily from the room.
That was when the wooden chalice shook once and then turned itself upside and shivered.
Albus and Severus cast a dismayed glance at the chalice before turning back to the platform. Harry from the past sat in the dungeon hallway and by turns rubbed his arm and touched his hand wincingly to the back of his head. The men on the dais could not fathom from whence the boy got the courage, but Harry stood himself up squared his thin shoulders and prepared to knock on the door he had just been thrown through.
The chalice turned as though someone held it angrily by the stem, and began to bang itself forcefully against the platform. Severus could not help but think that the cup was doing a deliberate parody of the fate that awaited the young man behind the door. The image in the platform showed Harry held fast once more by the collar of his robes, and standing in the threshold of the dungeon door, as a furious Snape of the past delivered a sound cuffing about his face and head.
"Are you sure I couldn't have talked you down?" Harry asked ruefully when he was once again sat safe and unharmed beside Albus on the floral sofa.
"I warned you, didn't I?" Severus chided, but for all that, he felt a bit sympathetic and ashamed.
"You warned me you'd kill me," Harry corrected. "I'm certain you weren't going to kill me. Though you were pretty intent on kicking my arse," the younger man admitted. "Thanks for pulling me out before whatever you had Accio'ed could arrive," the young man said. When Harry of the past had finally gotten enough sense to try to get away, Snape had Accio'ed something from a little potions table that stood in the corner of his office. "It wasn't a knife was it?" Harry asked in sudden alarm.
"If I had wanted to kill you I'd use my wand, you silly child," said Severus who secretly hoped he had not been Accio'ing a knife either. The Snape from the past had been summoning something from a table that held several knifes. It also held a few heavy duty one inch by two inch wooden rulers used to measure ingredients. Perhaps he had been Accio'ing one of those to give the boy a proper thrashing. The next stop at any rate would have been Albus' office where the old man would have no doubt given him a proper thrashing as well, figuratively if not literally. Even now the older wizard looked exceedingly disapproving; though both Harry and Severus assured him he had witnessed a highly embellished version of the past.
"I still say the time period I picked wasn't too late in the past to turn things around between us," Harry argued.
"No?" Snape asked raising an incredulous eyebrow.
"How could it be?" Harry insisted. "We've already done it."
"So you said," Snape quipped.
"I'll admit I definitely caught you on a bad day," Harry allowed.
Harry shifted his gaze and frowned at the cup. A hairline crack now graced it from rim to the start of the stem.
"Couldn't one of you go back," he asked trying to sound reasonable. "I'm really rubbish at this."
Severus looked a question at Albus, who pursed his lips and shook his head no as he draped an affectionate arm about Harry's slumped shoulders.
"I'm afraid it is your responsibility Harry and I still have every faith in you. For you have the most amazing habit of triumphing when it counts most," the Headmaster intoned, pulling the boy close for a moment and pressing his lips to the untidy raven head.
"Well, this is certainly the definition of it counting most," Severus acknowledged curtly. "Here's what I think you should do, Potter…"
"Severus," the old man cautioned. "Harry must make a conscious choice…"
"You have got to be kidding, Albus," the Potions Master sneered and the Headmaster held up an admonishing hand.
"What do you wish to do Harry?" The old man asked looking deeply into the boy's green eyes.
Harry looked from one man to the other before he spoke and looked deeply into the blue eyes in return.
"I want to listen to what Professor Snape says, Headmaster, and this time I'm going to follow his advice to the letter."
"Good man, Harry," Albus smiled pressing another kiss to the young man's head.
Albus rose from the couch and motioned for Severus, to take his place beside Harry.
"Must you always communicate in riddles, Albus?" Snape asked irritably as he took his seat next to Harry on the couch. "Wouldn't it have worked just as well for you to tell him you wanted him to mind what I said?"
"No, Severus," Albus disagreed his eyes twinkling madly. "It would not."
"You're not the least bit concerned that we wasted the first two opportunities," Severus admonished.
"Nothing has be wasted, child," Albus explained. "Those opportunities were necessary to get us to where we are now, which is exactly where we should be," he explained with a knowing smile.
"Do not be rash," Severus was lecturing an attentive Harry as they sat together on the floral print couch, on a dais of light, in the North West corner of Limbo "Since you are going back to the beginning there is no need to rush. Just move along carefully and make the best decisions you can," he explained with uncharacteristic patience.
In order to ensure success, Snape instructed Harry to go back to the time Hagrid first collected him and as he moved forward through the past to make the changes necessary to ensure the desired outcome.
"Enough of this Gryffindor nonsense!" Snape had scolded regarding Harry's earlier attempts. "You must rely heavily on your Slytherin side if we are to achieve success."
"You mean you want me to lie to you, sir?" Harry asked for clarification. "Cuz' I think if you catch me lying to you in the past you'll…"
"Cunning, Potter!" Snape corrected sharply. "You must be astute and shrewd and above all think of the consequences before you act."
"Right. Slytherin. Cunning. Got it," Harry said nodding his head in agreement.
"Do not be reckless," Snape ordered.
"No, sir. I mean, yes, sir," Harry amended. "I mean… I'll do my best… you know?"
"Of course you will," Albus put in as it seemed Snape had finally completed his instructions. "We have every faith in you, dear boy," he assured Harry fondly. "Don't we, Severus?" Albus asked.
The Potions Master merely nodded curtly causing Albus to scold him.
"Severus?" The older wizard admonished
"We share an Occlumency link, Albus," Severus pointed out irritably. "The boy knows what I think."
"Sometimes it helps to hear it aloud, Severus…" the Headmaster chided.
"No, I'm good, sir," Harry interrupted, remembering his arrival on the dais and the warm feeling of love that had filled him, even as he wept, when Snape had pulled him into the Occlumency pathway.
"Good enough," Snape intoned, giving Harry an affectionate cuff on the back of head, and ordering him not to bugger things up.
Harry seemed very intent on not buggering things up as Albus and Severus watched from above the platform. Though he made what could have been categorized as a misstep a time or two. Nothing he did disturbed the cup much and bit by bit it filled. One of the first things he did was to shake Draco's hand when the eleven year old blond approached him and Ron that first day before the welcoming feast, but Harry still made it clear that Ron was already a good friend of his. Next he called Ron out on his biased comment regarding Slytherins and dark wizardry before the sorting. He made the red head promise they would still be friends no matter where they sorted. Weaseleys were nothing if not true to their words, and Ron kept his when Harry allowed the Hat to put him in Slytherin.
One of the early missteps was slipping away from the Slytherin prefect and his house mates to join his Gryffindor mate Ron in facing down a mountain troll in the girls' bathroom. Hermione's defense of him and Ron seemed to warm him to McGonagall. But it didn't stop his own Head of House from delivering several stinging smacks with his hand to the seat of the eleven year olds trousers as the two made their way back to the Slytherin dungeons after the incident.
"This is a bit like what happened with the pensieve, isn't?" Albus asked in concern when eleven year old Harry let out a little yelp, amid his profuse apologies, after a particularly fierce swat.
"It's nothing like it, Albus," the current Snape denied with a roll of his eyes.
At the older wizard's doubtful expression he told him to look at the cup. Indeed the goblet was filling and it never faltered once even when Harry was caught riding his broom without permission. McGonagall seemed a bit soft on him after the incident with Hermione and perhaps due to his connection to James and Lily too. She marched him down to Snape after catching him in the court yard with Neville's remembral in hand amid the impressed cheers of his year mates.
"Go easy on him, Severus," McGonagall beseeched her colleague. "He was sticking up for another boy who was being tormented," she gave the Potions Master a measuring look before approaching the door to make her exit. "And if you don't sign him up as Seeker, I will," she commented before leaving. "The boy is a marvel on a broom."
Snape listened to his story regarding his defense of Neville and it led to a conversation about his burgeoning friendships with other Gryffindors.
"You don't mind do you, sir?" eleven year old Harry asked and Snape admitted that thus far he did not.
When it became clear that he miraculously was being let off with only warning, Harry seemed to gather his courage too ask a question.
"Do you think it would be all right…" the boy started. "Do you think there is a chance I might try out for our Quidditch team?"
"First years usually aren't allowed and I'm inclined to say no," Snape explained.
The eleven year old couldn't quite hide his disappointed pout, which had the effect of irritating Snape a bit. The cup shivered lightly when he reminded the boy that it wasn't too late to change his mind about punishing him.
Harry immediately schooled his expression and apologized and the cup settled down. When Harry was leaving Snape's office, as though to soften his words from earlier, Snape quipped that if McGonagall would let him play Seeker on her house team, he'd give him his blessing as well.
That was how the all House Quidditch league started at Hogwarts. Since the Quidditch and House cups were two separate things it made a certain amount of sense. McGonagall loved the idea. As did the Headmaster of Harry's first year as he thought it promoted unity among the houses. Soon all the teachers were on board, including Snape, and any student could try out for any house team. It became the fashion to wear both team crests as well as house crests on uniforms. Soon the school was populated by, Gryffinclaws, Slytherpuffs, Hufflegryffs, and Ravenhuffs, and many other silly house name combinations. And Harry became the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in a century.
"How in Merlin's name did he get me to go along with combining the Quidditch teams?" the current day Snape complained to Albus. "The cheeky little brat is wrapping me around his finger."
Albus only grinned as the cup continued to fill.
The final leg of Harry's journey through the past was traveled at Christmastime his first year. Harry had stayed in the castle for the holidays as had his friend, Ron and few other good friends from Slytherin, Draco and Blaise Zabini among them. It was several days after the holiday that his Head of House called him into his office to give the a boy gift.
"Do you know what a pensieve is, Potter?"
"Pensieve…erm…no sir," eleven year old Harry told the man.
"Well the Headmaster suggested I might open my cold heart at Christmas time and give you a gift, and I believe I have just the thing," he explained placing his wand to his temple to extract the thin wispy strand of a memory and place in the basin.
"That thing you pulled from your head is a pensieve sir?" the boy asked in seeming innocence.
"Don't be daft, Potter," Snape said without rancor. "That was a memory," he explained and tapped the basin. "This is a pensieve."
"Oh," Potter intoned.
"Stand here," Severus instructed the boy. He placed his hands on the boy's thin shoulders, and they entered the vapor together.
"Is that my dad?" the boy asked smiling wide at the image of a messy haired James Potter, all of fifteen years old playing with a snitch by the lake.
"Yes," Severus admitted. "He was in fifth year. And that's your mum, just there," Severus indicated the green eyed girl across from them. It was obvious James was trying to get her attention with his antics.
"And those are their friends?" Harry asked. The Snape of the past seemed astonished that such a little face could smile so wide. The little boy watched the scene in awe. Joy was written on his every feature. Snape only pulled the boy from the memory at the last moment as Black spoke the words that would lead to the most embarrassing memory of his life.
"Look who's here?" Black was saying just as Severus lifted Harry from the pensieve.
"Did we have to leave?" The boy asked.
"We did," the man confirmed. "A row was about to start."
"With the dark haired boy by the lake?" Harry asked his Head of House. "That was you, wasn't it?"
"It was," Snape confirmed.
"Who won?" Harry wanted to know.
Snape merely quirked an eyebrow.
"It was three to one," the boy conceded.
Snape grunted non-commitally.
"Thank you for showing me," the boy said.
"I thought it might be nice for you to have at least one pleasant memory of your parents."
"It is," the boy agreed with a brilliant smile. "Happy Christmas, sir."
"Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter," Severus answered with a small smile of his own.
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"I think we can bring him back now, Severus," Albus told the current day Snape.
"But why, Albus?" The man asked, shifting his gaze to the center of the platform. "The cup…" he began, his eyes growing wide.
"Yes, child," Albus agreed his eyes shining with tears of joy. "It runneth over."
"He did it," Severus breathed looking at the cup in awe.
"You both did, child," Albus corrected. "You both did."
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First, seventeen year old Harry and Severus drank their fill, a full cup each at Albus' insistence, despite his earlier assurance that one shared cup between them should suffice. Then the two men took turns nourishing their Headmaster from the cup of love and life. They bid him drink until he was drowsy with it and the thin old man seemed filled tight to bursting. Still they pressed the wooden chalice to his thin lips and bid him drink yet more. Soon Albus was whining a bit at the delicious pain that came with such a rapid onslaught of love. It was reminding Harry a bit too much of his night with the Headmaster in the cave, when he had made Harry force the potion upon him. He told Snape as much as he took Dumbledore's hand and offered what small comfort he could.
"That particular potion was designed," Snape explained "to make the victim feel the pain they have caused others, and experience great weakness as a result. I was fairly certain Albus would ingest it rather than have you do so. However, I admit I had hoped you would feel a bit of what I felt when you snooped in that damn pensieve. And if Albus should have taken the potion in your stead," Snape raised a brow. "Well, there were a few things I didn't mind him realizing either."
Harry's look grew rather pained at the notion of that. He held the Headmaster's hand a bit tighter as his moaning grew a bit more coherent.
"I am not a kind man," Snape quietly explained with a bit of a self deprecating sneer. His actions contradicted his words however. Harry watched with a kind of stunned awe as the Potions Master coaxed the old man to drink a bit more. He gently rubbed Albus' tight old belly and the old man whimpered softly, beseeching him to leave off. Finally, the dark withering of the Headmaster's ruined arm began to recede.
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Quite suddenly and without any notion as to how they had gotten there Harry and Severus found themselves walking through the hall at Hogwarts from the general direction of the Gryffindor tower to the Great Hall. Severus was holding Harry's arm as though he had been tugging him along. He stopped short and released the young man. Severus glanced down at his crisp teaching robes and took a moment to examine the tightly rolled scroll of parchment in his hands. He furrowed his brow slightly as he rolled the thing up again, and at Harry's questioning look he responded.
"Lesson plans," he explained, "apparently for the first day of term after Christmas holidays."
"That would make this…" Harry began looking down at his own clothing, complete with Slytherin green tie and scarf.
"Your seventh year, I believe," Snape supplied.
"Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed noticing the Slytherin patch on his left shoulder. "I'm Head Boy!" he said in awe, "and Quidditch captain too!" he enthused, noticing the patch on his right.
"Of the Gryffindor team," Snape sneered as he examined the Griffin and Snake patch as two Gryffindor third years passed the pair with a nod.
"You should have let me play for Slytherin when I asked," Harry suggested and gave Snape an impish grin.
"I should have paddled your impetuous little arse," Snape opined in response.
"Wait, I'm recalling something," Harry explained crinkling his nose and putting up a hand. "The memories are funny. They sort of layer over one another. We have a game this Saturday, against Slytherin, I think," the boy smiled brightly.
"Saturday, you say?" Snape asked doubtfully. "I'm quite certain you are restricted to your quarters that day, Potter," Snape declared.
"Restricted to my--?" Harry asked dumbly. "What for?"
"Which reminds," Snape said instead of answering. "I'll take your wand as well," he ordered holding out one hand.
"My w-wand, sir?" Harry questioned tentatively as he slowly reached toward his pocket where he kept it.
"Yes," Snape intoned. "You will recall that was to be the penalty if I caught you using an Unforgivable curse again."
"Oh…yeah…" Harry responded a bit sullenly as he slowly handed the thing over.
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As they continued on their way to the Great Hall and Harry kept fussing with the pocket where his wand normally lived, he began to feel more than a little peeved.
"Is the Headmaster here do you reckon?" He asked, trying to keep the sullen tone out of his voice.
"Why," Snape asked with a hint of snide. "Do you wish to protest your punishment to him?"
"No," Harry glowered. "But I'll need my wand for some of my classes, won't I?" he asked, his tone growing surly.
"I shall request that you be allowed to make up any missing work this Saturday. Hence the reason you will be staying in that day," Snape explained helpfully.
Harry seethed for a moment; it all seemed terribly unfair, given the way things had turned out in the end and the fact that he had been battling such darkness at the time. Harry felt a vague echo of that darkness as he responded impertinently.
"Well I suppose that is more than an adequate punishment," he muttered "for casting the curse against you."
Harry knew the words were way out of line before they fully left his mouth. More than that, it was a nasty, terrible, dark thing to say.
When Snape who was walking a few paces ahead stopped and glared, the young man gulped.
"Merlin," he said apologetically. "Did I really just say that?"
"You did," Snape confirmed as he resumed walking. "And I suppose lines are in order as well. Additionally," he continued blandly, "it has been quite sometime since you have had an encounter with William. As I recall, and my memories are returning in a rather odd fashion as well, your last such lesson was due to an incident during your third year involving Mrs. Norris and a can of Muggle shaving cream." Snape's voice took on a warning edge.
His Head of House's tone, along with the resurfacing of similar memories involving William did a great deal to dispel the vague shadow of darkness before it could take any sort of a hold.
"I do generally try to resist using William with the upper grades," he continued, "especially the seventh years. They tend to get rather churlish about it," Snape explained as though discussing the rules of safe potion making. "I'm certain I have never found a use for William with anyone responsible enough to advance to Head Boy… but you, Potter," he said stopping in front of the doors to the Great Hall, "have always been a very special case."
"No. I'm not special," Harry denied with an emphatic shake of his head, all thoughts of darkness gone. "I'm ordinary, remember? The Headmaster said so. Just ordinary Harry."
"I believe I said you were above average," the Headmaster reminded as he appeared behind the two younger men his blue eyes twinkling madly.
"Albus!" Snape greeted in a pleased tone at the same time Harry squealed, "Headmaster!"
"Well done, my boys," he praised as he entered the Hall ahead of them. "Well done indeed," he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the head table greeting his students as he went.
Harry and Severus watched the old man's back with twin smiles of relief and gratitude. After a moment they looked back at each other once more.
"So lines and restricting you from using your wand shall be sufficient, you think?" Snape questioned Harry casually. "You don't believe you need further intervention to fully understand the magnitude of your actions?"
"No, sir," Harry said quickly. "I already do under…look that was a very nasty comment I made, I'm really sorry all right?" Harry explained sincerely.
"Good, then," Snape intoned after a moment. "I am a servant of the light. 100 times, every night this week, due before curfew," he ordered
Harry stopped short and gave him a troubled look as though the words caused him pain. I'm fairly certain I'm not a servant of the light, if I ever was one, he thought bitterly.
"But of course you are, you silly child," Snape explained irritably as he picked up the thought. "Who but a true servant of the light would the Universe so diligently and doggedly temp with darkness?"
"But I didn't win," Harry complained doubtfully.
"Didn't you?" Snape asked with silky menace as he brandished the tightly rolled parchment above the young man's head.
Harry eyed the parchment warily as he considered how things had turned out in the end.
"Yes, sir," he finally answered, "I reckon I did."
"Good," the man agreed and he let the parchment fall lightly, barely taping the young man's head.
Harry wanted to ask what he should do if the temptation got too much again, but somehow couldn't bring himself to do so just then. If the facetious threat of a hiding could chase it away at this point, he probably wasn't that bad off. Harry watched for a moment as Snape made his way to the teacher's table, swishing and sneering at the assembled students as he went, and Harry had to hold back a laugh.
"Well you don't look any worse for wear," Hermione commented as she entered the door behind him followed by the school prefects.
Harry noticed that her arm sported a Head Girl badge similar to his.
"Snape looked like he was going to skin you when he ordered you from our meeting with the prefects up in Gryffindor tower a bit ago," she stated.
"He did?" Harry asked in confusion, trying to access the memory of being ordered from a meeting with Hermione and the prefects.
"You didn't get in trouble?" Hermione asked. "It sure looked it like you were in for a good telling off."
"I did get in trouble actually," Harry admitted. "A lot. I'm grounded Saturday, he confiscated my wand, and I have lines."
"Wow, Harry," Hermione said disapprovingly. "Whatever did you do to get in such trouble over the Christmas hols?"
"Actually, I'm being punished for something I did last summer," Harry explained.
"Last summer?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You wouldn't think there wouldn't be anything he would dare punish you for after what you accomplished last summer."
"What did I accomplish last summer?" Harry wanted to know.
"What…Harry, you're joking right?" Hermione giggled. "You didn't accomplish anything I suppose if you don't count getting rid of Voldemort."
Harry caught a vague memory of himself facing down Voldemort in a stone chamber with no wand in sight, but with waves of emotion he was using to attack his mind. Harry had a sense that he was using the Amor de Todo technique and there was a flickering image Riddle as a small, somber child. Snape was in the chamber as well, Harry remembered, and he cast an incendio that caused something to explode in a wave of silver flame.
"What could he have discovered about last summer that got you in such trouble?" Hermione was asking as she moved into the Hall toward the Gryffindor table.
"Well, he is a bit of a hard arse," Harry pointed out, "and a stickler for details as well."
"I guess it makes sense that he'd be a bit harder on you," Hermione pointed out.
"Why?" Harry asked in a difficult tone.
"Oh come on, Harry!" She scolded. "Who have you been spending your Christmas hols with since second year. Not to mention part of every summer at that lovely cottage in Ireland. It just makes sense is all. Snape's been more of a father to you than a Head of House."
As Harry took that in he turned toward the head table and caught Snape's eye, and the man raised one dark brow in response. Whether it was in question or amusement Harry couldn't tell from the distance, but it made him smile, and Snape gave him one of his half smiles in return. They'd defeated Voldemort together and apparently Snape had become something of a father to him. Harry was more than fine with that. He briefly pondered the fact that it seemed as though some alternate Harry had been able to succeed and find a bit of contentment where the original Harry had not. Then again perhaps he'd just been given an opportunity to become the Harry he was always meant to be. Before he could ponder it further, Dumbledore stood up.
"Would everyone please take their seats?" the Headmaster requested loudly.
"Do you want to sit here, Harry?" Hermione asked making room beside her. "Or at your House or the Quidditch table?" she asked, indicating a round table a little ways down.
At it sat Ron, Ginny and Draco among others. Harry couldn't help noticing they wore twin crests as he did. He shot them a friendly nod before sitting down beside Hermione. The Headmaster cleared his throat. Harry couldn't help but feel the old man should say something important, after so very much had gone on. But instead Dumbledore clapped his pale hands once as he gazed out at the assembled students.
And with a mad twinkle in his eye he simply said, "Tuck in."
The End
Author's Notes: I guess this is the end. Thanks to those of you who have supported this fic through a year and a half of sporadic updates. Thanks also to those who joined later, and flattered me by reading the whole thing in one go. I have enjoyed your responses tremendously and will miss them now that they will be ending for a while. I'm actually going to be working on a bit of my own original fiction till July, so wish me luck with that. Again thanks so much for all your support of this fic.
In this chapter, Snape's complaint about Harry having to do everything alone and the mention of the Albus' Almanac for Above Average Wizards is a bit of a nod to Kirinin's The Secret of Slytherin and Snape's quip about Harry's Wizard Hero Training. If you haven't already read SoS, you should definitely do so. It is very well written and by turns funny and thought provoking. The fic manages to reshape the paradigms of good and evil simply by letting enemies share space together. Whether it be Draco and Harry or Godric and Salazar, by the end, Light is Dark and Dark is Light and we wonder what all the fuss was about in the first place. This wonderful fic can be found here on ffdotnet as well as Potions and Snitches, and I highly recommend it.
I also stole a bit from my Happy Christmas Mr. Potter for the Christmas pensieve scene.
Thanks very much for reading along. I hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to review. It might inspire a faster sequel complete with Slytherin Harry and his Huffleclaw, and Ravengryff buddies. Thanks again for your support of this fic. It has been a truly wonderful journey and I appreciate those of you who were along for the ride.
Happy Trails,
Delaine