Chapter 5
This is here:
"Ron!" Hermione jumped up when Ron Apparated into the living room carrying a small parcel.
"Oh Ron, hurry up, we've got to go find Harry!"
"Whoa, slow down," Ron said, putting the parcel on the table, "What do you mean, we have to go find Harry?"
"He's gone!" Hermione exclaimed, wringing her hands, "I… I just- he asked me about Snape and I told him, and then he got a really strange look on his face and just left. Oh, this is awful!"
"D'you mean to tell me that Harry has gone off in search of Snape? The murdering bastard himself?"
"I don't know," Hermione said desperately, "I think so… This is a disaster, he's going to get himself killed!"
"Do you have any idea where to start looking for him though? For that matter, does Harry? Nobody's been able to find Snape for years."
"At least we have to try! Snape's going to murder him… Or hex him to bits and bring him to Voldemort which would be even worse."
Ron nodded. "We could try a simple Point Me spell first. Come on, let's go."
This isn't:
Harry didn't have to wait long for Snape to show up. He nodded in greeting and fell into step beside the older wizard.
"Have you found anything of interest?" Snape asked him.
"Yes," Harry replied, "I've made a list. D'you want to see it now?"
"Later, after the meeting. I cannot tell you the location of the headquarters, seeing as it is under a Fidelius Charm, but I hope that it will recognise you anyway. If not, well… We'll see. We'll have to use Side-Along Apparition."
They turned into a narrow street just off Gringotts and Harry grabbed Snape's arm.
"Ready?"
"Sure."
Apparating while hanging on to somebody else was a horribly unpleasant as ever, but at least it was over relatively quickly. Harry stumbled upon arriving and Snape slung an arm around him to keep him from falling. He barely had a moment to register the warmth of the touch before Snape released him and stepped back.
"Can you see it?" he asked.
Harry squinted in the growing darkness of the evening; a small, white cottage appeared before him, all windows on the ground floor ablaze with light.
"Where are we?" he asked curiously.
"Godric's Hollow."
Harry started violently. "My parents' house?"
"Your mother's house," Severus corrected, "Your father died five years ago. He was killed by Voldemort when he created himself a new body."
"So that's what happened. Blood of the enemy and all that… I only read about him going missing."
Harry rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his robes. "But my mum, she's… She's all right?"
"Oh yes," Snape said, "But, Harry – You and your mother… Well, you don't have the best of relationships with her."
"Why?" Harry asked but before Snape could answer they were interrupted by Remus Lupin Apparating right next to them.
"Severus, Harry, it's good to see you!" he said warmly and then proceeded, to Harry's utter shock, to embrace first him and then Snape, who did not only not maim Remus but returned the hug with obvious affection.
"It's been too long, Harry," Remus said while knocking on the door. "I know you must be busy with practice and all, but people have remarked on your absence during the last meetings. It won't do to let your personal issues with some of its members interfere with your duties towards the Order."
"Yeah… er, well," Harry shrugged. What was he supposed to answer to that?
Remus threw him a slightly puzzled look, but in that moment the door was opened and Harry saw his mother – Lily Potter, alive, for the first time in his life. This was not a memory from a Pensieve, nor a smiling, waving figure from a photograph or mirror. This was his mother, beautifully alive.
"Mum!" he blurted out. "Hi!"
"Hello, Harry," Lily said softly, throwing him the same puzzled look as Remus just a moment before.
"Severus, Remus. Do come in."
Harry felt quite out of place, stepping into his parents' home, the one he'd never seen. He'd never been to the ruin that was this house in his world. He'd visited his parents' graves in the small churchyard of Godric's Hollow three years ago, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to see the place where both James and Lily had been murdered, where he'd been made an orphan stranded in an unfriendly world.
Entering this house now seemed like walking right into a dream of his boyhood. The cottage wasn't overly large, but warm and cozy, quite welcoming. When they stepped into the living room a large fire crackled in the fireplace; squashy armchairs and some chairs were grouped around a huge table covered with scrolls and cups of steaming tea. Harry thought that the room had to be magically enlarged to accommodate so many people; he counted at least twenty Order members, amongst them many Weasleys – and Sirius Black, his godfather.
In the five years since Sirius' death Harry had tried his best to forget the pain associated with his godfather's fall through the veil, though he could never help the slight pang of guilt when thinking of him. Sirius had been an unhappy man when he'd died; it had been a premature end to a life whose defeats had been etched deeply in his pale face.
The man talking animatedly to Nymphadora Tonks now reminded Harry strongly of the fifteen years old Sirius he'd seen in Snape's memory: he was older, to be sure, but also very handsome. He exuded an aura that suggested that he was at ease with himself, an aura of purpose and power that his Sirius had never had.
And then there was Neville, sitting at the end of the table, idly doodling on a piece of parchment. Neville, whose lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead was cleary visible, as the other man wore his hair cropped very shortly; Neville, who wasn't the least pudgy and whose gaunt face didn't remind Hary of the boy he'd known at school at all.
Harry even recognised the man sitting next to him: Neville's father, Frank Longbottom. He only bore a passing resemblance to the man Harry had seen while visiting Arthur Weasley at St Mungo's several years ago. Frank Longbottom was a powerful wizard and he knew it, too – he was in deep conversation with Albus Dumbledore, gesticulating as he spoke.
Biting his lip, Harry quickly looked away; he'd never really got over Dumbledore's death, sometimes waking up from nightmares where he watched the other wizard fall and fall. To see him now here, wearing brightly coloured robes and a pink hat with little blue polka dots on them only reminded Harry of what he himself had lost when Snape had blasted the headmaster right off the Astronomy Tower.
"We seem to be complete," Dumbledore called out cheerfully, "Shall we start? Severus, I belive, has found some information on the bowl Emmeline and Hestia retrieved for us some days ago."
Snape got up; all eyes now rested on his supposed lover and Harry somehow got the feeling that the other man just wanted to shove his hands into his jeans pockets, an urge made impossible by the fact that he was currently wearing robes.
"Well," Snape cleared his throat, "I managed to find out some things about the bowl… It does look rather plain," he waved his wand and conjured a three-dimensional picture of the bowl which hovered in mid-air, slowly spinning on its axis, "It's about sixty years old and was probably fabricated in Germany during Grindelwald's reign in one of the wizarding concentration camps. The lack of markings or a magical signature makes dating it a bit difficult, however.
"As to its purpose… Some of the documents I've been able to translate refer to it as the bowl of shadows- the Schattenschale. If it is filled with any kind of liquid, shadows and images appear in the bowl. It is impossible to identify anything of substance though. Its original purpose is unclear. My… guess, if you will," and here Severus' eyes flickered shortly to Harry, "is that it can transport one's self – that is, the mind and innate magic in a wizard or witch – to another reality. It seems that identical people can trade places – not their bodies, mind you – upon looking in the bowl."
"How could that be possible?" Neville asked, "Surely it would require an awful lot of energy to function?"
"And the theory of separate and alternate dimensions has never been proven, Snape," Sirius drawled, "You, defender of all things Muggle should know that."
"I assure you, there's nothing remotely Muggle about that object," Snape said curtly and Harry was amazed at how he apparently knew better than to engage in a row with Sirius Black.
"Anyhow, it's not my opinion or my own theory I'm stating, merely my findings from other sources. There aren't that many: The bowl was reported stolen when its original owner was tried and convicted during the Nuremberg Trials in 1948 and it has only resurfaced during Voldemort's first reign. It was sold after his disappearance which seems to suggest that it was thought to be a dark object that someone wanted to get rid of. I don't know why Voldemort shows any interest in it now; its workings seem to be uncontrollable as you can't choose the reality you end up in. Perhaps he knows more than we do and has got hold of some of the original constructions plans for it."
Snape sat down; the image disappeared and Harry suppressed the insane urge to pat his hand reassuringly.
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said, "I would be grateful if you could deepen your research, nevertheless. It may be that you have overlooked some vital detail."
Snape shrugged and Harry gaped at both him and the headmaster. It seemed impossible that Dumbledore would criticise the other wizard in front of the whole Order, even if it was done in such an indirect manner, just as Snape's indifferent reaction was just plain strange.
But then the other members of the Order engaged in a lively discussion about making possible alliances with the goblins and how to prevent too many giants from entering Great Britain. Lupin gave a short report about his progress with a particular werewolf pack that had vowed to remain neutral during conflicts – and Severus didn't say a word, his opinion was not asked of him and he seemed content to sit still, sip tea and listen, just as Harry himself was.
That was when Harry realized that neither he nor Snape were key members of the Order.
Snape was not the valued spy, nor was he himself the boy who lived whose very life depended on the Order of the Phoenix succeeding in their goal of killing Voldemort.
No, they were minor players on Dumbledore's virtual chess board: a professional Quidditch player and an expert on magical objects (or whatever Snape's job was) weren't really decisive figures in this war. Neville was the turning point here: discussing strategy with his father and Lily, arguing with Sirius, listening respectfully to Dumbledore.
Harry stared at his hands and let the flow of voices wash over him, not really listening anymore, only looking up when Remus gave him a small nudge.
"At least try to pretend to be interested, Harry," he whispered, "I know it's hard."
Harry nodded and caught the last bit of Tonks' sentence, "… definitely check it out."
"Any volunteers?" Frank Longbottom had a deep, pleasant voice. "It shouldn't take that long, really. Our problem is that guarding the entry to the Department of Mysteries has priority right now and most members are already on duty there."
"I'll go," Sirius said easily, "I can close the shop for a couple of hours on a Sunday, no problem."
"You need somebody to go with you, Sirius. Taking on Dementors is no easy task. What about you, Harry?"
Harry started but Neville robbed him of any chance to answer. "Harry? But he can't even manage a decent Patronus to save his life!"
"What?" Harry asked stupidly. Dumbledore's question and Neville's violent rebuttal had taken him by surprise; he didn't see any immediate cause for it, except that the other man might not like him.
Sirius snorted. "Well, if Harry here can pry himself loose from his time consuming occupations of Quidditch and caring for his lover I'll be sure to bring him back in one piece."
"Sirius!" Lily exclaimed.
"What the hell is going on?" Harry hissed at Snape as Sirus, Neville and Lily engaged in a short but heated argument, "Doesn't anybody here like me? Why do they think I'm incompetent?"
"I do and you're not, but I'll explain later," Severus muttered back.
"Great. Just absolutely bloody fantastic. Listen," Harry raised his voice, "I'm all right with going with Sirius to check out… er…"
"Slytherin's tomb," Remus breathed in his ear.
"… Slytherin's tomb," he finished. "Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."
"Well, that settles it!" Dumbledore said delightedly, "You can tell us all about your findings on Monday then. The next Order meeting is taking place at six o'clock. Just to remind you, the people on Ministry duty are Neville, Nymphadora, Lily, William, Charles, Hestia and Kingsley, in that order. I think this will be all, which leaves us ample time to enjoy Molly's excellent cooking!"
As scrolls and cups were cleared away with a wave of Lily's wand and steaming dishes, cutlery and plates appeared, Harry turned to Snape who raised an eyebrow.
"We definitely have to talk, Sn – Severus," he said softly.
"Yes. We do. My, Harry, what have you got yourself into?"