CHAPTER 44
Severus found himself in what seemed to be complete darkness. He automatically reached for his wand – but it wasn't there. Puzzled, he rummaged around in his robes. He came to the conclusion that he would have to rely on wandless magic if it came to the clinch. A faint voice seemed to whisper his name. Severus looked around, narrowing his eyes in the dark, and became aware of thin veils of greyish fog drifting lazily towards him. They melted away as soon as they reached him, and the dark closed in on him from all sides. He tried a verbal "Lumos!" without success, than a non-verbal one with the same discouraging result. He had been stripped of all his magic in this strange realm.
"Where am I?" he muttered, stretching out his hands. He could feel his wedding band on his finger; it increased his courage. He also realised that the chain Harry had given him was still around his neck. He moved around in a circle, waiting for his palms to encounter an obstacle or some wall of the sort; there was only emptiness. Severus determinedly set one foot in front of the other, hands groping and outstretched. He suddenly admired muggles profoundly for being able to manage without magic.
"Severus!" the slightest of whispers caressed his ear.
"Harry?" Severus called out, and his voice was swallowed up by the dark. His shoes did not make any sound on the ground. The path sloped downwards all the time, making him descend little by little into unknown mysteries. He did not even know out of what material the floor consisted…A tiny pinprick of light came into view. Severus moved suspiciously towards it, instinctively cautious. His skills as a spy allowed him to move gracefully and silently; his robes did not even rustle. The light was a yellow flame, and just when Severus was heaving a sigh of relief – it went out. Severus frowned. He continued walking, albeit with doubled caution. Was there someone or something which or who had deliberately put on and put off that light? Was he being lured into some lethal trap? His left hand collided with something cold and metallic. It was round, like a doorknob, and Severus realised that that was exactly what it was. He felt around the knob and managed to discern, by touch, the outlines of a wooden door. Severus turned the knob and pulled. The door opened without protest. Severus stepped inside the new corridor or whatever it was. At last there was light; but it was a sickly greyish-greenish colour seeping through the stone walls of the path. The ceiling was either non-existent or so high away that it beyond Severus's view. The trail of the Killing Curse, Severus thought to himself. Intuition besides his usual sharp logic warned him not to let the fog touch him. Merlin, where am I? Is this Legilimency? It should bring me clarification instead of confusion! He arrived at a junction: the path separated, splitting into two corridors. Severus paused, deliberating his next step.
"Sev!" That pet name, Harry's faint voice in his ears…It seemed to come from the left corridor. Severus walked forwards briskly. Here, too, there were wisps of greenish fog which hindered rather than illuminated his way. On and on he walked, longing desperately to see his husband. How much time have I still got? he thought with disquiet. Every now and then he would catch a trace of the greenish fog which seemed to be extending further and further. Once he looked back, and, far away behind him, saw the fog creeping up on him. If he wanted to return, then he could no longer do so. He arrived at a curving road. His eyes widened. Now he could see images. Their first bonding ceremony. Harry's face was stiff and pale, and Severus was digging his nails into the youth's hand as they walked around Dumbledore's office to accomplish the ceremony…Then the scene which haunted him most of all: Harry lying on Severus's bed, and Severus taking him, rocking back and forth quickly while Harry lay completely still…Severus gritted his teeth. This was a test. He had to get past the images. He walked briskly, passing pictures of his Death Eater past, of people being tortured, of Voldemort laughing…Severus touched his wedding ring with his other hand, drawing a deep sigh. He had reached the end of the road; a metal door greeted him. He opened it without delay. He was welcomed by the voice of an old man:
"Close the door, Severus Snape, or the green fog will reach us sooner."
Severus obeyed, startled. The darkness of the room lifted as a soft glow of light filled it; now he could see the source of the voice. It was an ancient man, stooped, holding a staff in his hand. The eyes were dark and keen in the old face. Severus recognised that face from his extensive readings and sketches in books of magical history.
"Merlin!" he exclaimed softly.
"'Merlin', Severus, is but a title. No one knows my true name."
Something in the eyes of the legendary magician prevented Severus from asking what his true name was; and, thirsty as he was for knowledge, he had only one goal in mind.
"My husband is on his deathbed." He managed to keep his voice steady.
"I know, my boy, I know. Why don't you take a seat?"
A gnarled hand gestured at a comfortable sofa which had not been there before.
"I have no time to sit! Every second is of vital value!" Severus nearly snarled.
"You have found Harry."
The Merlin motioned him to follow him.
"What was the use of offering me a seat?" Severus growled, jumping up from the sofa. The Merlin's mouth quirked in his snowy beard. The man reminded Severus of Albus Dumbledore, except that the Merlin didn't have any spectacles, which was rather surprising considering his age. The Merlin led Severus gracefully into an inner room. Harry was lying in an odd kind of glass coffin. He was dressed in the black robes which he had worn during the battle. He was not wearing his glasses. Severus remembered that they had fallen down when Harry had been blasted back by the Killing Curse. He had picked them up without noticing that he done so and put them in his pocket – but they were not with him in this world. He was surprised that his wedding ring and chain were there at all. Harry, too, was wearing his ring. Severus wanted touch him, hold him in his arms…
"I want to take him back," he said.
"You cannot take him-" the Merlin answered, but Severus rounded on him and interrupted him.
"He is my husband, he and I are bonded together by blood, by love, by-"
"You were bonded together by hate."
"That was in the past!" Severus said, searching for a way to raise the glass lid of the coffin. "Please, I have to take him back, he is dying, I saw the green mist of the curse spreading-"
"It will come even here, my boy, and destroy us all," the Merlin said with utter composure.
"I will not let it destroy Harry!"
"You did not let me finish my sentence, impetuous wizard. You cannot take your husband back unless..."
Severus wanted to hex the Merlin, but besides the fact that he could not use his magical powers, time was slipping away; he could not argue or negotiate with the Merlin; he had to submit himself to the rules established by this ancient sorcerer.
"…unless you answer a question of mine," the Merlin ended his sentence.
"Ask me," Severus said abruptly.
"Why do you want to take him back with you? If you tire of your husband, you may revert to treating him before you learnt to love him."
"I can never tire of Harry!"
"That is what most people say."
"I love him."
"That is also what most people say. If one can fall in love, my boy, then one can fall out of it."
"Do most people end up in an infernal dark labyrinth when they say that?" Severus asked acidly.
"No, they don't. They don't really have such a unique opportunity, do they?"
"And if they had such an opportunity, would they all seize it?" Severus spoke in a low whisper.
"I suppose not all of them would, but you would not be the only one," the Merlin said.
"But we are talking about Harry, not about others. I want to take him back with me because his time has not yet come. He is not yet dead. And now, let me ask you a question, Merlin, which will answer your question."
"Go ahead," the sorcerer said, raising a bushy eyebrow.
"You have asked me why I want to take Harry back with me. What does Harry want? Does he want to come with me? Or does he want to go on? What does my husband wish? That is the most important thing I need to know."
The Merlin smiled and made a small wave with his hand. The glass lid disappeared, and Severus strode forwards and scooped Harry up in his arms.
The Merlin was still smiling.
"The mist closes in on us. Go, Severus Snape, leave swiftly if you want your husband to accompany you in this lifetime."
"Thank you," Severus answered sincerely, nearly in tears.
"At last some manners. Better late than never," the Merlin murmured, opening the metal door for him. Severus clutched Harry to him and stepped out. The fog was everywhere, and it was advancing, closing in on him. Severus turned around, but the door had vanished, leaving only an expanse of stone wall. He was trapped. I am stripped of my magic, I can't get out; I will fail and Harry will die, he thought. Dumbledore's words came back to him.
"Severus and Harry, you embody the power Voldemort knows not."
"Love," Severus murmured. He stood up.
"Take me, then!" he shouted at the fog. "Take me, but let Harry go! Let my husband go!"
The fog flickered and vanished.
Severus heaved a sigh of relief.
"That Merlin was a Gryffindor…noble self-sacrifice versus Slytherin self-preservation…Was that what it was?" he snorted contemptuously, his characteristic thorny temper rising; then he looked down at Harry, and his eyes softened.
"Of course…if I am practising Legilimency on a Gryffindor…"
He scooped up Harry in his arms and went back all the way he had come. It was tiring because the path climbed upwards all the time. He was completely exhausted, and he knew that the Merlin had released Harry in the nick of time. He was on what he hoped was the last stage of this insane journey, sweat trickling in his eyes – Harry's body was heavy in his arms – when the Merlin's voice spoke to him, seeming to come from everywhere:
"Remember, Severus Snape, that very often people only understand the magnitude of loss when they nearly lose, or actually lose, someone who is close to them. You are Harry Potter's Protector, as he is your Protector, and never forget that your love vanquished Lord Voldemort and enabled you to take your husband with you."
Harry moved in his arms, and Severus gasped, sinking down onto his knees, staring at Harry's face…
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