Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: I know I said this would be up tomorrow or the day after, but I figured I had it written, so I might as well post it. Happy reading!
Shades of Gray
Chapter Three: Voices from a Distant Land
Harry was more than a little grateful for Ragnok's gift of the vial of potion. Keying himself to his new vaults hadn't taken all that long, nor had visiting his personal vault. The black backpack that had been sitting on the pile of gold, silver, and bronze coins, however, was taking quite some time to go through. While he was still in the vault, he filled a pouch with money, though he wasn't sure why other than he only had a couple of galleons left in his trunk at Hogwarts. The backpack had a sticky note not unlike the one that had arrived with the palmtop computer, though the note on the backpack looked decidedly singed. With dawn shining brightly, Harry quickly concluded his business at Gringotts and walked to a nearby park to go through the latest shipment from Lily.
Inside the backpack, Harry had found a lengthy scroll in what he was fast coming to recognize as his mother… No, damn it, Harry. It's LILY, not your mum. As, well, her handwriting that detailed the charms built into the bag. The list was extensive, and Harry promised himself to go over it in more detail later. For the time-being, though, his attention was focused on one of the gadgets that Lily and Harvey had sent. It looked a lot like a digital watch, but had a tag tied to the band with a dragon-shaped earring tacked to it. The back of the card told him he could find a discreet body-art shop at the entrance to Knockturn Alley and that there was more information on the gizmo in Harry's palmtop computer. Digging the computer out of his pocket, Harry researched the device and found that it was a cross-dimensional two-way radio.
It didn't take more than twenty minutes to locate the body-art shop. If the clerk had been surprised to see Harry there, he hadn't shown it. Three galleons and five minutes later, Harry had the dragon earring dangling from his left earlobe. He removed his old watch and tossed it in a rubbish bin. It had quit working properly during the second task of the Tri-Wizard tournament over a year before; the second hand uselessly ticked back and forth over the two, even though the hour and minute hands still functioned. He had been wearing as a reminder to get it replaced. He tightened the band of his new watch into place. The dial glowed blue for a moment, then flashed red twice before settling into the normal black-on-gray display that was normal for a digital. Consulting the owner's manual in his computer once more, he followed the complicated button-pressing-pattern to activate the watch. The dial flashed yellow once, indicating he had done so correctly.
While he was checking through the numerous pockets in his backpack, there was a low chiming noise from his earring. He tapped the 'mode' button of the watch three times in quick succession, like the manual had said, to answer the call. "Yeah?" he whispered softly.
He was rewarded with a somewhat static-garbled version of his mo – of Lily's voice. "Harry, I assume you received our latest little care package?"
"I did," Harry replied. "I had some questions, though."
Lily laughed, and something tightened in Harry's chest. "Of course you do. You wouldn't be human if you didn't. What do you want to know? If I know the answers, I'll tell you."
Harry took a deep breath, suddenly unsure where to start. He randomly picked a question. "What exactly is the 'Department for the Regulation and Control of Interdimensional Threats'? What do you do? How is it I'm talking to you? What's this about different universes? I thought there was only the one. Why do you seem to be helping me? How do I know you're who you say you are and really not working for Voldemort? What's with all these things you keep sending me? Why are you sending them to me?" Once he started, the questions flowed and he couldn't have stopped them if he'd tried.
He trailed off when Lily's laughter returned. "Oh, Harry! Slow down, and let me see if I can clarify things, all right?"
"Okay," Harry replied, ignoring the curious glance of an elderly woman out walking her poodle. This sitting around and seemingly talking to thin air isn't going to clear up that whole 'the wizarding world thinks I'm barmy' issue.
"Firstly, there are other realities than the one you live in. Every story you've ever read is, in fact, another world, another universe, and under normal circumstances, the only way these worlds and realities interact is through creative media – books, television, films, art, and so on. Still other realities are created with every moment, with each major choice humankind makes, reality tears itself and reforms. For example, if you were to make the choice to stand up and start blasting holes in everything, a reality would form following the path that resulted from that choice, and a second reality would form where you continued sitting right where you are and listening to me. With me so far?"
"Yes, though I'm not sure if I really understand it."
"Then just accept it as a particularly peculiar form of magic. Not many people are capable of understanding the concept. Secondly, I can tell you with certainty that I am most definitely not working for Voldemort. My department monitors potential threats to our own universe through interdimensional tracking magic – something that appears to be unique to this universe. The reason we're so interested in helping you is because we know you're the one prophesied to either kill or be killed by Voldemort. Should you fail, our computer simulations predict that there's an eighty-nine percent chance that he will figure out how to cross dimensional barriers and begin an interdimensional campaign of slaughter and terror."
Harry's mind had been set at ease the first time Lily had referred to the Dark Lord by name. He still wasn't sure if this was all just a figment of his imagination and he was currently bound in a padded room at St. Mungo's, but for the moment he was willing to believe what his senses were telling him. Lily, taking Harry's silence as confirmation that he was following her explanation, continued, "We – my department – are able to send non-living magical objects through the barriers between our dimension and those which border us. It's sort of like boring a hole through pages of a book. The spells and the technology they drive are far from perfect, though, so there's always a chance that what we try to send either won't arrive or will arrive damaged. We hope to be able to send living matter sometime in the next five years. This particular brand of magic is how we are able to speak with you and send you the magical objects you've received so far. We send you these things in hopes that they will aid your quest to destroy Voldemort."
"Okay," Harry said when his mum – when Lily – paused. "I don't think I'll ever truly understand it, but I think I can trust you. I did some research earlier and found that I had three spells set to me, and was able to get rid of two of them, but I don't know what to do about the third. All the people I'd normally ask for help you told me not to trust."
"What were the spells?" Lily asked, curiosity apparent in her voice.
"A tracking charm on my hair – I transferred it to a shoelace rather than break it – and something called a 'core block' were the two I could deal with." Harry had to pause as Lily cursed Dumbledore's ancestry to the nth generation. "Um… Mu… uh, Lily?"
It took a moment for Lily to calm down. "Sorry, Harry. The core block was outlawed in this dimension over a millennia ago. It's a nasty bit of work. You said you dealt with it already?"
"Yeah, I found information on it in one of the books you put in the computer. Hurt something fierce when I got rid of it, but afterwards I found out I could fly my broom at over three hundred kilometers an hour."
Lily let out a low whistle, "That must have been some block…"
Ignoring her unvoiced urging to extrapolate on the spell, Harry turned the subject back to the obliviate lurking in his mind. "The third spell I found isn't one I can remove."
"Why is that?"
"It's an obliviate, but I don't understand it."
"The obliviate spell is a memory charm. It blocks a memory or series of memories from being able to be recalled by the person it's cast on," Lily explained.
Harry rolled his eyes, he felt like he was talking with Hermione. "I know that. What I don't understand is that my exibeo magus charm said that this particular obliviate was blocking more than fifty years worth of memories. How is that possible? I'm only fifteen."
"Hmm…" Lily's tone was thoughtful. "To be honest, Harry, I don't know. I'll look into possibilities for you and let you know what I find. Did you have any other questions for me right now?"
"Yeah, but I don't know how to word them. When can I talk to you again?"
"I'll call you again at… oh, say eight o'clock tomorrow night. That should give you plenty of time to sleep and whatnot."
"Should I be worried that you know I've not been to bed yet?"
"Not at all, Harry. We – the department – were monitoring your activity at your Ministry last night, and I know you haven't had time for sleep, since you obviously went to Gringotts and are now speaking with me."
"Oh," was Harry's less-than-spectacular reply. "I suppose I'll talk to you later, then?"
"Tomorrow evening. Promise."
The earring made a slightly different chiming noise and Harry could no longer hear Lily's end of the connection. Sighing, he replaced the few items he had removed from the backpack back in their respective pockets, tucked the palmtop into an empty pocket that was just its size, and pulled the straps over his shoulders. He swirled his cloak over everything and took off on his Firebolt for Hogwarts.
The return trip didn't seem to take long, but Harry did have a fair amount on his mind. Forcibly shoving his thoughts aside, Harry approached the school making sure to keep the headmaster's quarters facing away from him – he hadn't forgotten that the old man could see through his invisibility cloak. Once he arrived over Hogwarts grounds, he flew within an arm's reach of the school up to the fifth-year boy's dormitory. Peeking through the windows, he saw that Seamus, Dean, and Neville were still slumbering peacefully. Probably a little too peacefully in Seamus' case, if the way he was kneading his pillow and the way his sheet stretched over his hips was any indication. Quietly, just in case his charm had worn off, Harry opened the window and crawled inside. He hid his new backpack in the bottom of his trunk, covering it with his cloak, and replaced his broom in its customary spot just under his bed. He removed the shoelace with the tracking charm from the trainer in question before chucking the shoes in a rubbish bin and tying the charm around his ankle. He still had two weeks of school to finish, and it wouldn't do to have the headmaster notice he had discovered and tampered with the charm.
Once he'd changed into his pajamas, he turned back the covers on his bed and had just enough time to simultaneously pull the blankets over himself and think Ragnok was right about that potion, before sleep ambushed him.
While Harry slept on in his room, Severus Snape was pondering a surprise letter from his mother's cousin's youngest daughter. Aside from a brief, somewhat stilted and unpleasant meal with Apolline and François Delacour during the previous year's Tri-Wizard fiasco, he'd not spoken with his only remaining relatives before or since. François' mother and Snape's maternal grandmother had been sisters, and how François had managed to marry into a veela line was anybody's guess. He reread the letter yet again.
16 June, 1996
Bonjour Monsieur Snape,
My name is Gabrielle Delacour; I am François and Apolline's youngest daughter. You may recall that my older sister, Fleur, was Beauxbatons' Champion for the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year. You may further recall that I was her hostage for the second task – yes, the little girl is me. However, appearances can, at times, be quite deceiving.
I know that your mother and my father were cousins, and we remain the last of our respective lines for the time being. I further know that you are not close to my family, though I would like to correct that. Family should stick together, don't you think?
To put this quite plainly, I shall be blunt. On my mother's side of the family, veela are quite prominent. Because of that, I have active veela traits (rather, I will after my sixteenth birthday on the nineteenth). If you are aware of the ramifications of this, you will know that veela are subject to what is known as a lifebond – a 'mate' of sorts. Thanks to my eventful visit to Hogwarts last year, I know who my lifebond is – and no, it isn't you. I doubt the veela traits would select someone of such close relation unless we were the only magical beings left on planet Earth. My problem is that my lifebonded is an English wizard and my parents won't allow me to visit him without an adult chaperone and they are going to be quite busy this summer. Personally, I don't believe they trust me all that much.
I would like to know if you would give me your permission to stay with you for at least a couple of weeks over the summer, along with my friend, Nicole – I don't speak English, and would need someone to serve as an interpreter until I learn the language – so that I may speak with my lifebonded and explain the situation to him.
I would be willing to compensate you for your time, of course. I realize that the position you hold at Hogwarts is likely one that takes much of your time, and I wouldn't feel right taking more of that time than absolutely necessary.
Please reply at your earliest convenience.
Merci pour votre temps,
Gabrielle Delacour
Severus knew what the letter didn't mention, of course. He knew that a veela – or even a partial veela who had active veela traits – who knew who their mate was and didn't act on that knowledge would rapidly degenerate into their rather frightening harpy form. In truth, harpies all originated in veela who denied their lifebond. He didn't know if he would be able to host his cousin and her friend though; he needed to speak with the headmaster. There are far too many harpies in the world already. I only hope whichever fool wizard she's bound to knows what he's getting into. If he were unable to personally host Gabrielle and Nicole – Merlin knows the place at Spinner's End is barely habitable for me, let alone two teenage girls – Snape hoped that Dumbledore would have an alternate plan for them.
Severus folded the letter and tucked into a pocket. Leaving his quarters, he began the long trek up to the headmaster's tower; the letter had arrived after the normal breakfast delivery run and so a house elf had brought it to him. As luck would have it, Severus didn't have to go all the way up to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was in the entrance hall speaking with a portrait of a woman in a green Victorian traveling suit. Severus cleared his throat to announce his presence. Albus turned in his direction and smiled, "Ah, Severus. Just who I was hoping to see."
Severus managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, but only just. "Headmaster. I've received a letter I wish to discuss with you."
"Come then, Severus. Let's to my office and we can both go over what we need to say."
Severus could tell that Albus was going to ask him to do something he really didn't want to do, but he further knew that there was no getting out of it. Regardless of his arguments, the headmaster always knew precisely what to say to get the Head of Slytherin to do his bidding. It irked him to no end, but he didn't know what to do to fix the situation. He did, after all, owe Dumbledore his freedom, if not his life. It had been on Dumbledore's word alone that he had not been sentenced to Azkaban with the others who bore the Dark Mark.
On the way up to the headmaster's tower, Severus reflected that Lady Luck wasn't as with him as he had first assumed. When they'd finally settled themselves into Albus' office, and the customary offers of tea and sweets had been made and turned down, Severus handed Albus the letter from Gabrielle. The headmaster read the letter quickly before handing it back to Severus. "I had wondered why she seemed so young for her age," was his only comment.
"How should I reply, Albus? I honestly don't think the world needs another harpy on its hands, but I doubt that I will go the whole of her visit without a summons."
"Ah, yes… Quite the conundrum, isn't it, Severus?"
Severus merely stared at the headmaster.
"Hmm… Ah, yes, of course! Why don't you go ahead and let her know she and her friend may visit, but warn her that her assumption of your time is quite accurate. That should cover any times you will need to leave them to their own devices."
"And where will we be staying, sir? Spinner's End is… Well, it may be my home, but that doesn't mean I want or need two curious teens rummaging about in my things."
Albus chuckled, "I think your concern is more that they will find your odd collection of books and dust to be a disappointment. Don't worry, Severus. I doubt they will ever learn the state of your home's book infestation."
"What are you getting at, you meddling old coot?"
Still chuckling a little, Albus handed Severus a small bronze key, somewhat larger than those used for Gringotts vaults. "Simply that I would rather you stayed at a different house this summer."
Knowing that it couldn't be that simple, Severus narrowed his eyes and glared at the key. "Who else will I be babysitting, sir?"
"Ah… Well, Severus, I was hoping you would consent to doing me a great favor."
"Albus?" a sinking sensation gripped Severus' stomach.
"You see, one of the students' family has had something of an emergency come up –"
"Albus." The sensation grew a little stronger.
"– and will not be home until the thirtieth of July, therefore the student will be in need of –"
"Albus." Severus was now positive he knew who else he was expected to look after that summer.
"– your expertise and unique insights."
Severus seized Albus' pause for breath to break into the conversation, "No! Absolutely not! I'm not babysitting Potter!"
Albus' twinkling smile faded and a disappointed frown surfaced. It was the same expression used worldwide by parents who had cause to show disappointment to an erring child. "Oh, Severus, why can't you at least try to set aside your hatred of James? Harry may look like his father, but if you could just see past that surface, you might find that he isn't who you think he is."
Severus wasn't able to restrain the growl of irritation that surfaced. He'd heard the exact same thing from the headmaster ever since the Potter boy had started his first year. "Severus, you know how important Harry is to us. We will need him."
"I don't understand why you haven't implemented your plan for him yet."
"The time has not been right, Severus. Until it is, he needs to be kept safe at all costs."
Severus still didn't want to end up babysitting the brat, even if it was for only part of the summer. Something of his stubbornness must have shown on his face because Albus sighed and reached for the key he'd sat on the far edge of his desk. He paused before picking it up and looked Severus in the eye.
"Duco juramentum."
The two words Albus said washed over and into Severus, and without knowing or even fully remembering quite what happened, he agreed to watch over Potter until the boy's relatives returned in July. He didn't realize any time was missing, however. His mind created what he expected to remember, and he didn't recall the spell the headmaster had used in any way, shape, or form. On his way back to his quarters, Severus' thoughts sped off into a tangent. Damn old man. How can he always manage to talk me into these things? It's not bloody fair, damn it. I should be free to say 'no' every now and again, but the blasted old coot always has the last word whenever Potter comes up in conversation. At least there's one good thing that will come of this – well, two actually. Firstly, there won't be another harpy added to the world, and secondly, I'll get to watch Potter fall all over himself trying to impress a bonded veela. He smiled grimly. Maybe if I'm lucky, he'll do something to make her angry, and she'll do the world a favor and maul him.
Once he'd returned to his quarters, he scrawled a reply to his cousin and had a house elf take it to the owlery for him before disappearing into his laboratory. The Dark Lord had demanded a potion that was best described as a liquid imperius. Severus knew that it was theoretically possible, but was having difficulty in getting the final result he was aiming for. In making potions for the Dark Lord, he always began with creating precisely what the Dark Lord wanted, and then worked backwards from there to sabotage it. With this particular potion, once he had the true form completed, he was going to alter it so that it was either easily detectable and easily cleared from the system of its victims, or that it had a set time limit of only a few hours. Personally, he felt the former option would be easiest and more than enough to dissuade the Dark Lord from trying to use it.
Just about the only potions he didn't alter for the Dark Lord were the basics; the ones that were easily ordered from an apothecary, like Pepper-up, Skele-Gro, and the other healing potions. He also didn't alter veritaserum when the Dark Lord ordered it. That particular potion was tricky as hell to brew, highly explosive and dangerous, and any substitutions in the ingredients would immediately be noticeable as they would alter the potion's coloration.
A/N2: You can skip this paragraph if you wish, it has little to do with the actual story. My 'anonymous' reviewer is still reading. If they dislike what I've written enough to 'scold' me regarding the 'rules' of the HP universe, why, then, are they still reading and reviewing? They also seem to have missed the fact that the version of Lily that I am using is not Harry's mother, but from a different universe altogether - the version of Lily in this story never dated James Potter, let alone married him! Specifically, they ask "Why his mom in particular and why should anybody [help Harry]?" I thought I made it clear in the prologue. Hmm... Let me check... Ah! Here it is: "Like I said, I'm Lily Evans. I am a technomage working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Interdimensional Threats – it's a sub-unit of the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic. Simply put, I'm an Unspeakable...Situated as our universes are in the fabric of space-time, we – that is, my department – have studied your world extensively." Lily is doing her job. Nothing more, and nothing less. The conversation between Lily and Harry in this chapter clarifies it a little more: Lily is protecting her own dimension from the potential threat of Voldemort. As to specifically why her and not, for example, her partner - well, it certainly got Harry's attention, didn't it? 'Anonymous' has also stated "Now about the muggle contraption. It serves no purpose in the story because its function could also be done through some enchanted object which the map or riddle's diary showed." Um, you couldn't be more wrong. Nowhere in canon does it show how a person could carry an entire library's worth of information around in their pocket. The map shows only Hogwarts; it does not provide information. Riddle's diary was an entrapped 'memory' of the man at the age of sixteen and not a repository of data. Keep in mind that the 'rules' which you seem so enamored of, 'Anonymous', clearly state that witches and wizards cannot use magic outside of school until they are seventeen, so it's not like Harry can use shrinking charms to pack his trunk full of books without taking this story in directions I do not wish it to go. Is Harry's computer a plot-device? Of course it is! But it is no different than Rowling using Hermione or Dumbledore as her favored dispenser-of-information. The only difference between the two is that I'm honest about it; what is a computer, other than a repository of data retrievable on command? Or is it simply the form which I have chosen that offends you so? Would you be this upset about it if I had used a 'master book' - some sort of mythical publication which changes its contents based on the requests of its owner? If that is the case, then why be so adamant about the form I have chosen? 'Anonymous', I do not feel that your opinions make you look 'stupid', merely foolish. If you so despise AU stories, why do you persist in reading them? How is my use of the computer as a plot-device any different than the plethora of stories in which the plot-device is a mangled spell or potion that de-ages the main character or sends them back in time? You seem to keep forgetting that this is FANfiction. As a result, I make no money from these stories. If you want to dictate what plot-devices are allowable and which canon details to adhere to or ignore, then go write your own!
Once again, I apologize to everyone for taking up space with this, but 'Anonymous' is too cowardly to leave signed reviews in order to keep these replies out of the public eye. Thanks to everyone who seems to be enjoying this story, whether or not they review. Oh, and if anyone has any bits of muggle technology they'd like to see introduced to the story, feel free to let me know, same as if you've got any little details you wouldn't mind seeing. Of course, I reserve the right to not use these ideas, but I do enjoy hearing speculation.