CHAPTER TWENTY THREE HARRY'S HOMECOMING
Harry walked the long road up to the gates of Hogwarts which, much to his surprise, he found unlocked. Hanging on the once protective gates was a visitor's sign with the new winter hours. Monday-Friday 12-5, Saturday-Sunday 9-6. Immediately inside, Harry found himself face to face with an odd-looking wizard standing behind a ticket box asking the patron$s for ticket stubs or hand stamps for re-entry. Harry had neither.
"Stamp your ticket, gov'ner?" The filthy wizard asked as Harry approached the gate.
"Umm...ticket? I just was supposed to meet someone here and he didn't say anything about getting a ticket." Harry looked up for the first time from searching his pockets and pushed his glasses back up his sweating nose. A glance at his watch told him that he had less than a minute.
"Bloody 'ell, 'arry? 'Sthat you?"
Harry was used to the recognition, but it had been such a long time that it was kind of unnerving. There were hundreds of people around, all here to see this great hero and Harry hadn't even taken time out to change out of his piss stained scrubs. But this time was different. It wasn't just a random face, a nameless voice, and as Harry finally looked deep into the eyes of the haggard wizard his recognition for an old acquaintance clicked in.
"Stan? Stan Shunpike? What are you doing here?"
"Penance. They let me out 'a Azkaban when they realized I didn' do nufin' an' they couldn' hol' me, but the Ministry still feels I owe 'em community service or sumfin'. Anyhow's, you get in for free acourse, no one thought you'd actually ever come so the Minister says you get free passage. Only one, mate. If you're just here to meet someone though, I'd hide that mug o' yours sos no one'll bother you. Here, take me hat. Good seein' ya 'arry."
Stan's cap smelled like sweat and old ale, but Harry was soon thankful for the cover up. Even though some people still did double takes as he walked by, he felt that his walk from the grounds was still pretty uneventful.
Signs and posts pointed out points of interest as well as the visitor's center and hundreds of people flocked the grounds in many different arrays of clothing. Not one of the black school uniform robes or signs of any house colors were present and even the familiar path to the Quidditch pitch seemed unfriendly. When Harry reached the gate of the pitch, he noticed that unlike the school itself, it was padlocked with a huge "No Trespassing" sign. Harry looked for another entrance, or perhaps the hooked nose of a certain professor, but neither was in sight. Another quick look at his wrist showed him that he was not only late, but becoming very much so as the seconds ticked by. He began to panic before he noticed the shimmer of something light green from the no trespassing sign. He ran his finger over the sign and found that the green wiped off onto his fingers and began to spread up his hand until it began to form words across his lower arm. "You're late."
He tried to rub the accusing words off but as they spread they only changed to other words. "You better not waste my time, Potter. Open the door."
"I can't, it's locked." Harry felt ridiculous as he heard the words leave his mouth. He was talking to his arm now.
The words took a minute as if in an exasperated sigh and then spelled out words one last time before dripping off his arm, leaving not a trace behind. "Honestly, Potter. Just open the door."
Harry watched as the padlock fell from the gate, holding on only by its final chain to lock back up following Harry's entry. As he entered the massive field he waited for feelings of victory and defeat to overwhelm him, but they did not come. In fact, the entire grounds seemed empty for Harry. He knew there should be something there, seeing as how it had been where he grew up and learned to live and love, but now it was just an overgrown patch of grass, badly in need of weeding, and not even the recent loss of his Firebolt could make him mourn for his favorite pastime.
Out of the stands a figure loomed, obviously aged and badly beaten. Like most from the battles, Professor Snape showed outer wounds that only touched the tip of the internal wounds that they had all suffered. It took him time to work his way across the field, a slight limp partnered with a black hickory cane, but as he stood next to Harry, he still appeared intimidating.
"You're late, Mr. Potter. I told you that I would wait until six and it's easily fifteen after. My patience has already been tried once today, so I expect it will not happen again. Shall we?"
He didn't give Harry time to make up an excuse as he was sure it wouldn't change anything. He watched as the young man solemnly followed behind him, his head hung as if he was still a scolded child, and wondered what had become of the once cocky youth.
"We won't be meeting in the eyes of your admirers, Mr. Potter. I hope that is to your approval." All he received was a small nod in agreement. "Mr. Malfoy tells me that you're having mental problems. However did you notice a difference?" He smirked at his snide remark but didn't even receive a typical Harry glare. As they walked Harry noticed that they were coming to the edge of the pitch and the outer walls where closing in quickly, yet Professor Snape didn't seem interested in altering his course. As they came upon the wall, Snape lifted his hand and the wall formed an archway, through which Harry could see a street lined with similar houses to that of Privet Drive.
"It's more advanced than a portkey, Mr. Potter." Snape commented as they walked through the archway which closed up behind them, leaving no trace of Hogwarts behind them. "It's a portal in space-time. I'm sure that if you had continued your education, you might have stayed long enough to mess it up." He once again enjoyed his own personal joke, but he didn't get the glare that he so enjoyed. "My god son seems to be concerned about your state of being, enough so that he risked me getting caught entering your home in the middle of the night just to move you down the hall. We were sure that once you had seen the portraits contained in that room, that you would snap out of whatever is plaguing your mind, but apparently, you had been damaged farther than expected."
"How did you know that I had portraits in my house?" Harry asked missing the part about being moved out of bed by his old professor.
"Do you still find yourself above listening, Mr. Potter? Draco told me. He wrote to ask for my help and I just barely agreed to oblige so if you continue to irritate me, you will do this on your own."
"I'm sorry, Professor."
Snape stopped suddenly to look at Harry truly for the first time. He ripped the sweat stained cap off his head and took in the mop of black hair, the lightening bolt scar and his mothers eyes, just to make sure he had the right kid. He had never heard Harry apologize for anything and he suddenly worried that it was more severe than first thought.
"Now, I will take you to my home, away from prying eyes, and the next time we meet, you will know how to get here. We won't have to meet at Hogwarts again. I'm sure this will take more than one visit, so I hope that your aware of what we're up against." As they walked, the came upon a house, just like the others, tucked into the back and Severus pushed open the door as they entered the front yard. Harry stepped inside the house, aware that it was his first visit to a professor's house, and felt appropriately awkward. He looked around at the couch and decided it was probably best to wait for an invitation to sit before making himself at home.
"Now, why don't you sit down and tell me in your own words why you think that you need to suddenly take up the arts of Occlumency. It wasn't important enough to block out the Dark Lord's visions, but now something that pertains to your own personal life suddenly is?" Snape knew exactly what had brought Harry here, despite what Harry thought his reasons where, but he knew he would only have better access to Harry's fractured brain if he had complete trust from his former pupil.
"I've been having nightmares again. I've been seeing visions of my fiance and, due to my....problems I guess you'd say, I think that she might be playing with the idea of killing herself and I've been seeing it happen. I wanted to know if there was a way to tell the difference between dreams and actual prophecy. Hermione Granger is actually the one that suggested me writing to you, I didn't know that Draco was even involved."
"Ah yes, Granger. Always was a bright girl, if not a bit of a know-it-all. If she had only been in my own house, she may have reached her full potential. So she suggested you contact me?" Snape suddenly was impaled with visions of Hermione having a conversation with Harry involving the writing of the very letter that had brought Harry to him. He noticed how easy it was to get that memory and that there was little or no resistance. He hasn't practiced at all, Snape thought. Well, at least he wouldn't have to fight him. So, Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger had been an item at school? Snape's lip curled in disgust as he tried to not think of how many underage students had befouled the school rooms over the years. That memory over, Snape tried to fish for a new one.
"So, your fiance? Is that miss Granger or have you found yet another to fall blindly for your hero act?" Ginerva Weasley. He saw her clearly before Harry's mouth had even opened to utter her name. Several years worth of fond memories struck him so he was nearly knocked back off his feet and he sat firmly down in the chair to steady himself. Laughter, love, friendship. And then it ended. Just as sharp as it had been before, the memories now turned to pain and sorrow. As Harry continued to talk about how much he wanted to love this striking red-headed woman and how he had promised that he would marry her after the war, Snape saw Ginny sit up on the bed, draped only in the bedlinen and wished he could look away. This was a child! Just as he tried to push the memory back away, he felt Harry's body heat rise and an unfamiliar feeling came across his body. Snape had felt anger time and time again, but this time it was foreign to him and he knew he was feeling Harry's emotions.
Snape's eyes snapped shut as Harry's hand fiercely contacted Ginny's soft cheek. He watched as Harry's breathing slowed as the realization of what he had done came upon him and repulsion crept into his stomach.
"You didn't set out to hurt her, did you? What has caused such a change in you, Mr. Potter?" Snape's voice was uncharacteristically caring as he stood once again to cross over to Harry. "If it's what you did that's got you worried that she's upset, why not just let her go? You obviously have no feelings for her, why not let her find someone that does?" Harry sat up, a concerned look on his face as he stood to meet the height of his professor.
"I never meant this to hurt her. I want to love her. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Then why did you hit her?"
Harry paused for several minutes as he swallowed sentence after sentence of explanation, each more ridiculous than the last. "I don't...I...I never... told you that." Harry looked up at Snape and than sat down on the couch and firmly grabbed the side of his head as if trying to squeeze Snape out. "Get out of my head, get out of here." He started to scream out as he looked up fiercely at his Professor. "I knew this was a bad idea."
"If you had practiced like I told you to, I wouldn't have seen. Maybe it's lucky that you never did find need to study as I think it will require finding out just what has caused this to happen from your own fractured mind. I think that something in your past, perhaps both of your pasts, has brought you to this, not what you've done to her. I think it's deeper than that, and Mr. Malfoy seems to agree with me. There's something in there that needs to come out, Mr. Potter, and you're going to have to let me in to try to piece this together before we can find out where you're hiding your love. Now if you care to continue, I want to see this vision that has brought you here."
Harry started to shake his head no as his entire body began to match the shake. "Please...I don't want to see that again. I can't do it, Professor."
"You have to let me in. I have to see. Did you come here to waste my time or help your wife? Now make up your mind, it's getting late." Snape looked out of the window to see that the sun was indeed setting and his eyelids were falling with the sun. It had been a long day and fighting with Harry was the last thing he had wanted to do. As Harry didn't get up to leave, Severus assumed that he wanted to continue. "You're braver than I'd have given you credit for. Now, just relax. Close your eyes, and try to find the dream that has brought you to me."
Harry's hands had begun to wring in each other to try to calm his shaking arms. He knew what he would see when he closed his eyes, but it was the only way to stop it from actually happening. Both Harry and Ginny's screams rang through Snape's house for several minutes as the scene of Harry's worst nightmare played out like a morbid film in front of them.
"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME!" Ginny screamed as the light glinted from the bloody razor held tightly in her right hand. Her left wrist weeping blood into pools at her feet. "All I wanted was for you to feel something for me. Damn it Potter, I LOVED you. I needed you to love me. And you couldn't feel a thing for me. Well, tell me fucker, can you feel THIS?" She swiped suddenly down and hard across his wrist tearing the flesh apart as the razor drank of his blood.
Several heartstopping moments later, Harry stopped screaming and the only sound was his heaving breath matching Snapes. Neither could think of anything to say for nearly half an hour as they sat thinking over what they had just both witnessed. Snape had seen more graphic things in his day, of course, but never had he seen the blood of such innocence flowing so freely by their own hand. He had felt Ginny's pain and Harry's fear and he knew that there had to be something that he could do to fix this. It was, after all, partially his fault. He hadn't stopped it from happening. Potter, you better strengthen your stomach, son. It only gets worse from here, Snape thought as he crossed to put his hand on Harry's shivering shoulder.
"That's enough for tonight, Potter. I'll see you at the same time tomorrow, and the day after that if we must. Get some rest."
Harry stood to leave. "Thanks, Professor."
"Potter, you haven't been in school for six years now. I am not your professor. It's Severus."
Harry thought it over before shaking his head. "No, we may not have a classroom, but I think you still have plenty to teach me. I'll see you tomorrow, Professor."
Snape watched as Harry Apparated from his front yard before storming back into the house and roughly shoving a piece of parchment down onto a table and quickly began to scratch out a letter. "Draco, what have you done now?"
^___^
Harry returned to the home of his Occlumency master nearly every day that week. He was surprised that even though he was spending so much time with a man he had dubbed as his enemy second only to Malfoy for so long, he was beginning to quite enjoy the lessons and even the company of someone so logical. Most visits brought Harry to tears as old pains and fears came out in full force. Finally after the sixth day of trying to find just whatever it was that Snape was after, and failing again, Harry got up from his position on his hands and knees on the floor to wipe the dried tears coupled with the new off his cheeks.
"Why?" He asked as he held up his wet hand. "Why can I do this and nothing else? I don't understand how my body can be numb when I hold onto Ginny in our bed, but at the sight of her killing herself over it, I leak like a goddamn pipe! What's wrong with me?" His voice was becoming hoarse from screaming and he hiccuped as he began to sob again.
"I think your friends, Miss Granger and Draco, were on the right track when they wanted to bring out the strongest emotions out of you, but they didn't know that yourstrongest emotions: fear, pain, suffering, would be much stronger than the average person due to your past events, and that love, which until Miss Weasley, you had never fully experienced would be weaker than most who grew up in loving homes. You never had the love of parents, and as we've just seen, you were starved and abused as a child and every person you dared get close to you has either died or left. You have more practice in feeling bad about yourself, Potter, and that is all your body remembers. The pain of loss, the fear of who will be next. You've had these feelings become nearly second nature to your skin and now in the absence of anything comforting like love or happiness, they are allowed to come out in their full force." He bent down and wiped a tear streaming from Harry's eyes. "This tear may very well have been one that's been waiting to fall for years now. Did you ever properly mourn for any of those that you lost? Now, your body is flushing itself of that pain, in the hopes that underneath is the remainder of your joy. Now get up, straighten yourself up, we're having another go before I let you leave tonight. I think we're close." He pulled Harry's arm so that he had no choice but to stand and he tried to regain his composure through his hiccuping.
"You said that all of this began after the war? What do you remember about the night that the Dark Lord was defeated?" Snape watched for any sign of Harry remembering so that he could pull the memory for himself, but as Harry racked his brain, not one coherant thought was available. "Nothing? You defeated the greatest wizard of all time and there's not even a single thing you can remember about it?" Snape knew he was hitting the point. It really didn't surprise him that he couldn't remember, and he told Harry so. "Sometimes, someone can see something so horrible, so disturbing, that their mind simply forgets that it happened to make it possible for them to function."
"But wouldn't Voldemort's death be something happy? Something I'd want to see again and again?"
"You would think so, wouldn't you? It never once occurred to you before now that you couldn't remember the single greatest achievement in your life?" Snape once again watched as Harry racked his brain, looking as if he was hurting in the concentration.
"I don't know why it never accured to me before. I guess I just didn't want to think about it after it was over, you know? I had spent my whole life obsessing over him, and when he was gone I guess I was just tired of thinking of him."
"Sit down, Harry. I think that you're going to need to for this." Snape sat down on the chair across from Harry and looked deep into his eyes, making Harry squirm a little bit in discomfort. "I'm going to share a memory of my own with you in the hopes that it will spark your own version of the story. I am not proud that this is in my life, but you knew my situation and what I had been brought to do to protect Albus's cause. I'll ask you to not judge my actions, but keep in mind the outcome and hopefully it will help to bring yourself into a new light as well." At this Snape took a deep breath as if it might be his last and placed his hands up against the sides of Harry's temples, willing him to see the images he was conjuring up from his past. As he did, silver streams of light wove their way down from Snape's temples, across his arms and up into Harry's head. Harry tried to relax as this close proximity to Snape was very uncomfortable but only found comfort by closing his eyes. However, almost as soon as they closed, his eyes snapped back open as he was pulled fiercely into Snapes' past.
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Chapter 24 Teaser
Harry watched as he was thrown up against a wall and held there by some unseen force, barely able to even struggle against the bonds that held him. None of this made sense to Harry as he tried to locate this in his own memory. This bizarre scene was definitely of importance, but not a trace of it surfaced. That is, until she was brought in.