Ch17 The Department of Mysteries
Harry sat in the old chair next to the fireplace and the roaring fire within and absentmindedly stared at the old elf. Hoagie was curled up next to the fire like an old tired dog. He snored periodically and stirred, but rarely woke. Harry nodded and warmed his feet at the fire. The knock at the door was no surprise when it came.
Owls lined the stone fence outside of his house with undelivered mail. He knew that when they got hungry they would fly away, perhaps return the unread letters to the writers or fly away somewhere else when they got tired; he didn't know and didn't care.
He had settled into his parents house and had made it his own almost immediately after he'd gotten away from Hogwarts. The old house elf, Hoagie, had been true to his word and had brought in everything Harry needed. Now, Harry rarely stirred from the house. He'd stand and watch the snow as it deepened in the garden and watch birds feeding at the little house on top of the pole and never venture very far away.
Halloween had passed and the snows of November had come and still he had not talked to or seen his friends. The chore that awaited him pulled at his heart and his mind so much so that he found himself unable to sleep most nights. He would rise from bed and walk the house in his bare feet and listen to the quiet. Nothing, not even a whisper disturbed the silence. He felt comforted by the darkness and the home that should have been his from the beginning.
The cup, the golden cup, which was all that was left of Voldemort, had been taken by armed guard to the Ministry of Magic and kept there in the Department of Mysteries awaiting its' final dispensation. Scrimgeour had given explicit instructions that such dispensation was to be left up to Harry. The still-acting Minister did not want to incur any more anger towards himself then he had already suffered. Many saw his actions during the short-lived war as something akin to negligence and the Daily Prophet had spent pages discussing it as only they could do.
The knock came again and this time his head came up and he heard a familiar voice.
"Harry Potter, if you don't let me in then I will break down the door!" Hermione's shout made some resemblance of a smile curl his lips. He dropped the lap robe and walked carefully to the window to peek out. There were two figures in the snow. One he could tell by height and weight was Hermione. The other was tall and fully cloaked; it could be anyone.
It had grown dark outside and the snow was falling heavily. He saw bundles in her arms, wrapped in bright colored wrap and knew immediately it was now Christmas and he had let time slip by unnoticed. Harry didn't care. It didn't matter if it was Christmas or Spring, or Summer, or Fall; he did not want to see anyone. Not even, especially not, his closest friends.
He walked to the door leaned against it and closed his eyes. Please, please go away, Hermione.
"Harry, I know you are in there, now open up!"
He knew she would persist. He opened the door and stepped away from it into the darkness and moved back to his chair at the fire.
"It's about time!"
He could hear them enter, stamp their boots and close the door behind them as the cold draft circled the room and then melted away. He waited, not wanting to greet them or to even stand and look at them.
"Where did you learn your manners, Harry Potter?" Hermione exclaimed as she came around the chair and looked down at him. She dumped the packages unceremoniously at his feet and warmed her hands at the fire, glaring at him.
He glared back.
"You look terrible, Harry," she muttered as the frown slipped away from her face. She glanced down at the house elf asleep at her feet. "Isn't Dobby taking care of you?" She asked and waited. He didn't answer. "Where is he?"
Harry nodded towards the kitchen and her eyes followed his motion.
"Very well. Some tea or hot chocolate is in order, I think; perhaps a sandwich. I'll go and fetch them while you have a chat." She looked over his chair at someone behind them and then left the room in search of Dobby and the kitchen.
Harry didn't turn to look at the other person. He watched the flames as they danced up the chimney and waited.
"Good evening." The deep voice came from over his head.
Harry knew who it was without looking up. But his anger was immediate and hot. He was on his feet facing Snape. "Who...why... Get out!"
Snape stared at him blandly and sat down in the opposite chair.
"This is my home and I have not invited you to be here!" Harry was clenching his hands into fists. His wand was on the mantle and a few feet away. He looked at it and then back to Snape.
"I will leave after I have said what I have come to say," Snape said. He removed his own gloves and laid them carefully in his lap. "Believe me, Potter, I do not wish to stay any longer than is necessary." The dark fathomless eyes stared at him and then nonchalantly roamed the room.
The shelves by the fireplace held mementos; the golden egg from the Tirwizards tournament, a golden snitch held suspended by a spell, some of his Hogwarts books and a chess set. Hedwig stood on her perch asleep. Harry's Firebolt stood in the corner. It had not been used for a long time. The only thing not present in the room was the Slytherin wand. He had placed it very carefully under the floor boards where he had originally found the Gryffindor wand.
Harry remained standing, feet apart, teeth clenched. Snape's eyes finally roamed back to his face.
"We must discuss what is to happen to the cup. You have avoided the decision for too long. It is dangerous for it to remain at the Ministry or for it even to exist." Snape's voice was calm and Harry could not detect any sarcasm or criticism in it.
"It will keep," Harry growled in response.
Snape nodded and then turned to look at the fire. "You are the only one who can destroy it. You knew that since the night we killed him."
Harry turned away and walked the perimeter of the room, stopping to stare out the window into the night and the falling snow. He wanted his privacy; he wanted them to go. Most of all he wanted to not feel angry anymore. And yet, the man who had betrayed his parents, who had been cruel and unfair to him in class, was now sitting in his home. Still, Harry could not bring himself to do anything.
"However, I cannot force you against your will. You are stubborn, Potter. I will give you that." Snape opened his robe and studied him as he came back around to his chair and sat down. The man continued to talk, "Whatever you decide, it would be wise for you to return to Hogwarts fairly soon. You are too far behind and you will need to set for the N.E.W.T.S. in the Spring. I fear that you may have to work extremely hard to even pass ."
Harry looked at him as if he were studying a toad. "Are you mad?" he finally managed. "Return to Hogwarts?"
Snape nodded. "No matter how well off your parents were Potter, I doubt they left you enough money to live on for the rest of your life. I was led to believe by Professor McGonagall that you wanted to be an Auror. In order to do so you must set for the exams. You will find my Potion's class will be much more difficult then you have previously experienced."
Harry shook his head as if trying to shake out the cobwebs. "Potion's class?"
"Don't be dull-witted, Potter. I have been reinstated. You will not have the luxury of the potion's book that belonged to my mother to get you by. It will be hard studying for you, I fear. However, most of the teachers are willing to give you additional instruction. I will set aside time as well."
Harry was still staring at the man as if he were growing a second pair of ears. "What, and stay in Slytherin and have you as my head of House? Not a chance, Snape! You felt the same way I did when you saw that wand in my hand. You'd rather see me dead then accept I am a Slytherin. Tell the truth!"
Snape looked at him as if he were bored and shifted slightly in his chair. "You hardly have what it takes to be a Slytherin, Potter." He waited and when Harry didn't speak he rose to his feet and towered over him. His voice was a vehement whisper when he spoke.
"Humans cannot be categorized into four houses. Have you not learned that yet? People can be greedy, devouring, and yes, brave, courageous and wise. If we have not learned that yet, then we will never learn. There are no longer Houses at Hogwarts. There is no longer a sorting. I am not the head of Slytherin house any longer."
Harry stared up and swallowed hard.
Snape continued, "You cannot stay in this house forever and hide. There is still a job to do." The words were harsh, but the tone of his voice wasn't. "Find the courage to do it!"
Harry stood face to face with him at the fireside. He could tell that Snape was struggling with some unknown feeling of his own.
"There is a danger," Snape continued less vehemently . "His essence is... the Seventh part of his soul is in that cup. Because he possessed you, because there was a connection between you, no one else can destroy it."
Harry studied the man for a long time. Many things went through his mind they faced each other. "You think I am a coward?" he finally said in surprise.
Snape stared at him and then spoke, "It is dark magic, Potter. If you were not afraid, if you did not have misgivings, then I would think you a fool. But no, I do not think you are a coward.
Harry knew then that Snape was the only one who would have any understanding of what he was about to say. He finally took a breath and said what had been on his mind for months. "When I take it in my hand... ." He stopped unable to go on.
Snape finished the sentence for him, "As I said, there is a danger. His soul can possess you and force you to not destroy the cup."
"I would turn into another Lord Voldemort."
Snape nodded. "It is possible."
"Why not leave the cup where it is?" Harry said sinking back into the chair, pushing back as if trying to disappear into the upholstery. This time the feeling was the same as if the weight of the entire world was pushing him down into it.
"If I understand human beings, there will come a time when someone will be tempted," Snape stood and was speaking to him from across the room. He spoke very gently. "They will take the cup and the essence will be added to their own. That is not to say there may not ever be another Lord Voldemort..." Snape was now whispering. "But many lives have been lost and many ruined because of this one. We must destroy this cup and we must do it now."
Harry looked up, rubbing at his chin nervously. It had come and he knew it would come. He clenched his teeth and looked away once again. He knew in that moment of staring into the other man's face, Snape understood that he both wanted to destroy the cup and also…. Didn't….didn't want to destroy it. It reached out to him...called to him and he felt a stirring inside, a longing... a desire to have it as his own.
Harry turned his face into the dark out of fear Snape would put those longings into words.
Snape removed an object from his robe and held it out. Harry finally looked up. Snape was holding the Gryffindor wand. "This belongs to you."
Harry studied it for a moment without accepting it. "I will go with you tonight if you make me a promise."
Snape raised his eyebrow and waited, his outstretched arm withdrawn. He was still holding the wand.
Harry continued, "When I take the cup in my hand; if I should change...turn... ." He struggled to put his feelings into words. "If something happens. You must promise me that you will be the one to kill me. Immediately. I can trust you won't hesitate Snape, not like one of my friends would. You must do it immediately."
Snape nodded just as Hermione walked in carrying a tray.
"We need to go tonight," Harry said. He stood.
"Go? Go where?" Hermione asked pouring out tea into three cups. "It's Christmas Eve."
"To the Ministry of Magic," Harry said and wandered into the dark of the room to a closet where he had hung his cloak. "We're going to destroy the cup tonight. It's Christmas eve and no one will be there."
Hermione stood with a cup in both hands and her mouth gaping open. She looked at him and then at Snape. She finally gasped, "Are you out of your mind?"
Harry and Snape remained silent.
"Fine!" she said slamming the cups on the tray and spilling tea across the floor. "Fine! But you are not going alone. You will wait until I have contacted a few people, Ron for one and Ginny and Neville and a few others. You will wait for me to do this or I will raise the alarm and have everyone including the Minister himself there."
Harry knew she would do it. He could see the look of determination on her face. "Why do we have to have all of these people there?" he asked bitterly.
"Because you still don't understand, do you Harry," she said frowning. "It wasn't your war. It belonged to all of us. We couldn't share in all of it, all of the danger, but we shared in most of it. I have been by your side from the beginning. I am your friend. You have other friends." She walked to him and reached up to put her arms around him and draw him close. "You've been sitting in this house for months and you've pushed us away. Now it's time to let us stand beside you." She stepped back and looked into his face. "Harry, we love you. Don't you understand that? I can't let you leave and be alone."
For the first time the coldness and emptiness he had been feeling in his heart was now replaced with pain. It was a pain of loneliness and sadness. His fear that he had become so much like Voldemort was now questionable. Over the months he had felt himself grow dark. It was almost like he had stepped into the Dark lord's body; that he had somehow possessed him instead of being possessed. Something had overtaken him and he had been terrified when the understanding had struck him that it was he who needed to weld the Slytherin wand and not Snape. I've gone down the road too far, he had thought at the moment he had shouted out the killing curse.
Please, please don't let me be the next Lord Voldemort, he had said a million times since the night in the Defense Against the dark Arts classroom. It's not fair! Why me! And he had known, even before Snape said the words, that taking the cup in his hands, even to destroy it, might mean his own death- or worse.
He stood silently and then nodded to her. "All right, we'll meet there in one hour." He donned the long black cloak and looked at Snape who had already pulled his over his head and was headed for the door.
"You know how to get in?" he asked and stepped into the dark and snow.
She nodded to him as he closed the door.
…..
This time as Harry stepped into the telephone box and dialed the number, he was with Snape. It was rather awkward to be in such a small space dropping below street level, in the middle of London, at night, on Christmas Eve, with Severus Snape.
The calm, cool voice of the Ministry spoke to them as they descended. "The Ministry welcomes you..." the customary greeting met his ears. "...you will be asked to submit your wands for inspection at the desk before entering. For security reasons a wizard from the Department of Law Enforcement will be along momentarily to authorize your admittance. Please be patient. Thank you for visiting."
They dropped to the atrium level and the door opened silently. Harry noticed the fountain of Magical Brethren had been replaced with a nondescript sculpture. The remaining area was as he remembered it. They headed for the lifts.
"You don't intend to wait for the others," Snape said casually, noticing Harry's hurried step.
They entered the elevator. Harry didn't answer.
"That is wise."