Chapter 98 – Who Knew?

Albus appeared in his office just in time to see a large black griffon vulture, with startling emerald green eyes, alighting on the rug in front of the fireplace. He noticed that his own familiar, Fawlkes , was watching the new arrival with interest and no apparent alarm, confirming Albus' suspicion that this was a witch or wizard from within the castle in animagus form, and not an interloper or stray bird. Sure enough, the vulture shifted form and the Pharaoh Nitrocris appeared in its place.

Albus stayed out of her line of sight until it became clear that she was looking for something on the shelves of his office, and quickly changing his nightclothes to a robe in which it was appropriate to receive visitors, he stepped forward from the corner near the stairs to his own chambers. She did not appear at all startled by his sudden appearance, but calmly greeted him. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."

"And a good evening to you, my dear. What brings you to my office at such a late hour? Is there something that I can help you with?" He gestured toward the large chairs that flanked the fireplace, while setting a warming fire to blaze in the grate and summoning a tea service to appear on the small table between the chairs.

Nitrocris hadn't planned on having this sort of a discussion, but she realized that obviously a man like Dumbledore would have wards on his office, so her notion of slipping in unnoticed and never encountering anyone while here was clearly flawed. With an inward sigh at her miscalculation, she sat in the chair to which she had been directed and accepted the tea that the Headmaster presented to her. The Headmaster looked at her with grandfatherly concern over his half-moon glasses.

"I am terribly sorry to have disturbed you this late at night, sir. I wished to inspect an ancient magical artifact that I understand is in your possession. I have a personal problem and am very hopeful that it might help me find a solution."

Albus suspected that the problem involved her family – he'd heard about her uncle's appearance when she had expected one of her advisors, and of his abrupt dismissal after a very brief chat. He had also heard from Minerva that the young woman seemed quite taken with Neville Longbottom, a most curious but heartwarming development. He had quite a few ancient magical artifacts scattered around his office, some very rare and valuable, others just ancient. But when one considered all the known facts, the most likely of his possessions to be of interest to the Pharaoh was the Marriage Stone.

"In my experience, magical artifacts are not useful tools to solve problems. They provide a piece of information that might or might not be helpful to a witch or wizard, but rarely do they actually solve a problem. The human heart or mind is almost always the best source of solutions to problems. Perhaps you could describe your problem, and we'll see if there is an artifact here better able than you are to solve it."

"My uncles are pressuring me to marry one of their sons, a cousin a bit older than me. I detest the young man. I do not feel this is the right time for me to marry, either."

Albus nodded at her to continue. "You've made it clear to me and several others in Mrs. Longbottom's class that you intend to assert your power in Egypt and remove your uncles from positions where they can continue to challenge you and try to usurp your power. I assume that would include vetoing any attempts on their part to force you to marry, or to marry someone of their choosing."

He had a point. If she pushed her uncles from power, they would have no say in her marriage plans. But she wanted to be sure in her own selection, and confirmation of her feelings from an ancient artifact would give her the confidence she needed to pursue her dream and overcome any who sought to block her.

"I have met someone who I think might be the person I am to marry. He might be my soul mate. He is not Egyptian, so I anticipate great resistance if I announce that I choose to wed this man, when the time is right. If our union is supported by a legendary artifact, my choice will not be challenged."

Albus drew a deep breath. He understood her concern and empathized with her reasons for wanting to see what the Marriage Stone had to say, but this was a classic example of wrongful reliance on the artifact.

"My dear, there is nothing in this world that is better at finding your true love than your own heart. There is no artifact that can do that for you. A soul mate is not necessarily the person that you love, or want to marry; it can be, but might not be. You are young and have time to allow your heart and your mind to consider your options and reach the decision that is right for you."

Nitrocris did not look persuaded. Albus knew that he needed to share some of his own experiences with the Marriage Stone; maybe one of them would resonate enough with her to show her this truth.

"When I first came into possession of an artifact that purportedly showed a witch or wizard his or her soul mate, I must admit to some experimenting. I knew a couple who were happily married, both very content and loving in their union, a pair that others might look to with envy for the love they shared. I spoke their names to the artifact privately, and was shocked to learn that neither was the soul mate of the other. I made it my business to get to know these two better, and could only confirm that they were besotted with each other and still very much in love after over 50 years of marriage. Whatever being a soul mate meant, these two had found great happiness with the partner that their hearts and minds decided was the person that they loved, and lost not a whit of affection because the other was not their soul mate. I have periodically conducted this experiment several times over the years. There have been many very loving and devoted couples who are not each others' soul mates. On the other hand, there have been times when I inquired about the partners in marriages that appeared to be loveless and cold, I found that the two were indeed soul mates, albeit very discontented and unhappy people."

Nitrocris had a frown on her face as she pondered this. Albus was glad to see her reconsidering. He'd lost faith with the Marriage Stone as a result of seeing non-soul mates like Arthur and Molly Weasley enjoy the most loving of marriages while soul mates Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had not a shred of love or affection for each other. If the circumstances that confronted them that day last September had not required such drastic action, he never would have looked to the Marriage Stone for guidance. It was interesting that the match identified that day actually seemed to be working out; far too many marriages arranged solely as the result of the input from the Marriage Stone were unqualified disasters. The Marriage Stone clearly had its own very peculiar manner of identifying soul mates, but the soul mate it found was not necessarily the person one should marry, or would ever love.

Albus continued. "You have met someone who you think might be the man you want to marry. If you met that person here, it is likely that you are both still quite young, and probably neither of you is really ready for marriage at this time. Allow your hearts to determine if you love each other, and your minds to find out if you are compatible. There is no better way of assuring your future happiness. You do not need a husband right now as you stand up to your uncles and establish your own rule. When you have made your changes and know that it is time, your heart will not lead you astray."

Nitrocris was smiling now. "Thank you for your words of wisdom, Professor. You seem quite sure that the Marriage Stone is not going to solve my dilemma."

"Indeed, it will not provide you with a solution to the problem that you have. You want to find the right person to marry, and the issue of a soul mate is not relevant to that choice."

"But if you love someone who is also your soul mate, doesn't that make everything even better?"

"There is nothing necessarily reciprocal about the Marriage Stone's findings. I've seen couples where the Stone identified neither as the soul mate of the other, and also many where one was the soul mate of the other, but the other was shown to have a different person as their soul mate. Their happiness and loving relationships were not dependent on their status or not as soul mates. The worst disasters that can be attributed to the Marriage Stone have involved instances where loving couples learned that they were not soul mates and one or the other began to pine for what might have been, destroying what they had in the process. The discontent that has been sown by the Marriage Stone, the lives it has ruined, is a terrible tragedy. I do not want that tragedy to darken your life, my dear, nor the life of the lucky young man you hope to share yours with."

Reluctantly, Nitrocris stood. "I see your point, sir. Thank you."

The beautiful young woman was suddenly gone, and the black vulture she became gracefully flew to the window and headed back to her bed in the Gryffindor tower.

X X X X X X X X X X

Harry awoke at his usual languid pace on Sunday morning, and was not entirely surprised that Severus was still sound asleep. He'd never seen the man use Dreamless Sleep before, and it was not uncommon, in Harry's experience, that infrequent use of a potion like that could give it a stronger impact on the rare occasions it was used. It certainly did not bother him, as he contentedly held Severus spooned in front of him, dozing himself as he waited for his bondmate to awaken.

It was nearly an hour later that Severus began the slow process of awakening from a Dreamless Sleep-enhanced slumber. In his initial groggy awareness, he registered that something felt different, but he couldn't quite shake free of sleep long enough to figure out what it might be. He just knew he felt safe, and he drifted off. Surfacing a little while later, he was able to hold onto awareness a bit longer, enough time to understand that someone was holding him around the middle. Harry had fallen to sleep any number of times with his ear pressed against Severus' chest, listening to his heartbeat, so the notion of being held as he awoke was not unfamiliar. The third time Severus surfaced from his sleep, he realized that he was being held around the middle by someone spooned in behind him. This was unusual enough to grab and hold his attention as he broke free from the Dreamless Sleep and came more fully awake.

Severus was puzzling out how he came to be in this position. He was always, always, the one who held his partner in front of him on those occasions (not entirely regular ones until this past school year) when he slept with someone. He couldn't recall ever having been held like this, not even in his teenage years with his very first lover. He was always the dominant one in any relationship that he had, often by dint of his size alone, but usually because of his personality. How did he manage to cede that dominance to someone who was able to maneuver him like this? And then make him feel completely comfortable and at ease in this position?

The process of focusing his thoughts long enough to have that small inner dialog drove the last cobwebs from his mind, and memories of the day before, the reason he'd dosed himself so liberally with Dreamless Sleep in the first place, came rushing back. Harry felt the tension flood Severus and immediately hugged him firmly as he spoke softly to calm the man.

"Shhh, Severus, it's all right. Calm down. You're fine. Everything is alright. Don't be upset."

With a few deep breaths, Severus did settle himself down, although he did not move. Harry kept his voice soft as he continued. "You're fine. You took Dreamless Sleep on an empty stomach last night. I found you in bed already when I got back from dinner, out cold, but tension just pouring off you. I gave you a back rub, got all the knots out. Your back feels good, doesn't it? And then I gave your magic a back rub – it was as riled up as the rest of you was. You fell into a really deep sleep then, and I'll bet you feel tons better this morning. I heard about the forsythia. I'm really sorry about the way I went at you when you got back here. Nothing went right for you at all yesterday, and I know how that can feel."

Severus thought to himself that there was a time not all that long ago that he would have laughed had someone suggested to him that Harry had any idea what a day like the one he had yesterday felt like. Now, he knew he was hearing that from a young man who'd probably experienced even more bad days than he had, and probably worse ones. He slipped his hand to his chest, and caught Harry's hand between his own and his chest, as he slowly eased himself onto his back. Harry in turn stretched on his side, flexing his other arm to support his head while they spoke.

"I nearly caused a disaster of terrible proportions, bringing that little plant back here. I had no idea, of course, but I still should have known better, or at least proceeded more cautiously. I should have at least asked Longbottom to research the properties of the plant and be sure it could safely be transported, before just going ahead and bringing one back with me."

Harry snorted at Severus, and then laughed when he realized he'd just made a very Severus-sounding snort. "I'm starting to snort like you! Don't be silly." Severus raised his eyebrows at the word "silly." "Really, that plant was completely harmless sitting there in the Winter Land field, so why would anyone think it couldn't live and would create dead zones if you brought it here?"

"I still should have known better, and taken appropriate precautions." It suddenly dawned on Severus that he had not provided any details about the plant. With a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. "Who told you about the plant?"

"Neville told us at dinner."

Severus groaned – that meant that all the blasted Gryffindors knew.

"Oh, stop it. No one will say anything to you about it. Gryffindors do have a sense of self-preservation, you know."

A small smile threatened to escape to his lips as Severus considered Harry's very earnest expression. He truly believed this would never be thrown in Severus' face by one of his House-mates, or one of their cousins, or younger siblings. This was the sort of thing that could haunt Severus for decades to come, his own personal dead zone, as it were.

Something else Harry had said now captured Severus' attention. "You said you gave my magic a back rub. What exactly do you mean by that?"

Harry offered a small chuckle. "When I was done working the knots out of your back, I thought I'd try to calm you by stroking your magic." Severus' eyebrows shot up dramatically at that. "It turned out that your magic was as knotted up as the rest of you had been, so I sort of massaged it. Put you into a sound sleep."

Severus pondered that for a few minutes as he continued to hold Harry's hand against his chest. "You really can reach out and touch my magic?"

"Sure. I've always been able to see others' magic. I probably realized that I could do this by third year. I never mentioned it to anyone – it never seemed to be something that came up in conversation. When Hermione was talking to me earlier this year about … well, whatever, I did tell her that I could see magic, and she suggested that was something I should never share with anyone." Harry had almost referred to Hermione's well-intentioned but ill-advised discussion with Harry about annulments, and Harry recalled just in time how distressed that had made Severus the first time he'd mentioned it.

Now a smile graced Harry's face. "Once I've been told I shouldn't mention something, it becomes that much more interesting, you know. I became more aware of my own magic, and of the magic in others. I can see it even more clearly now, in pretty much everyone. Yours is the only magic I've ever actually touched." The blush that now crept across Harry's face confirmed that this might have happened as part of some of their intimate explorations, and possibly explained to Severus his extreme (and positive) reaction to those explorations.

Severus realized now that he'd felt a bit different several times after awakening with Harry, and then there was that one morning when he discovered he could see house elves. Those were all times that they had been more intimate than usual the night before. Was it possible that their magics were joining, as a result of what Harry was doing? Ought he explain this to Harry? If the boy still hoped to be rid of him once he reached majority, although admittedly that appeared not to be what Harry wanted to do, the chance of getting an annulment in the face of obviously joined names, houses and magics rendered the fact that they had not joined bodies somewhat less significant.

Harry had been watching his face intently, reveling in the fact that Severus had the most amazingly expressive eyes, and when he did not realize he was being watched, even his facial expressions gave away so much! He could not imagine how he and all his friends had always regarded the man as such a stony bastard. Harry could see that he was conflicted over something, although he wasn't entirely sure what. "What's wrong, Severus?"

With a nervous glance at Harry, Severus opted for total honesty. He hoped that his luck would run as good today as it had run bad yesterday, so he would not regret this. "I suspect that you are joining our magics when you touch mine. That's probably how I suddenly came to be able to see house elves. And I've felt somehow different a few other times." Harry did not seem at all concerned about this information, so Severus felt he had to make it clearer; he was dealing with a Gryffindor, after all. "Remember that we pledged to join our names, our houses, our magics and our bodies when we were bonded. Three out of four."

To his absolute amazement, Harry leaned in for a quick kiss at that point, and, unmindful of the fact that he'd simply wriggled out of his clothes last night and never gotten into his pajamas, bolted from the bed toward the bathroom. "First dibs on the shower, unless you want to join me?"

That was not an invitation that Severus had any intention of declining.

X X X X X X X X X X

During dinner on Saturday night, a house elf had reported to Madam Pomfrey that there was a woman squib knocked out on the floor right outside the Great Hall. She asked that the elf move the woman to the infirmary, but he refused to do so. With an annoyed sigh, the mediwitch quickly finished her own dinner and went to see to this problem; the only person in the castle who would merit such disrespectful treatment from the little creatures had to be Harry's hateful aunt. Sure enough, when Madam Pomfrey finally went off to see to this new patient, it was none other than Petunia Dursley.

Madam Pomfrey levitated her along to the Infirmary on her own, as all the elves were adamant that they would do nothing for Petunia, and Argus Filch was a squib himself. She was tempted to put Petunia in a bed toward the middle of the room, and not spare one of the more desirable beds near a window for this woman. Good sense won out when she considered what a nuisance Petunia would be once she awoke, and finally opted to deposit her in a bed near a window.

A few quick scans confirmed that Petunia had a broken jaw and a cracked skull. She could have been hit first and then hit her head when she fell to the floor, although she could have just fallen and broken her jaw in the fall. Madam Pomfrey was sorely tempted to make no effort to heal the woman. She knew that her magical healing skills would be vilified when Petunia came to, and Merlin knows, Petunia deserved to feel the pain and suffer with these injuries like a muggle. Madam Pomfrey had taken the Hippocratic Oath upon the conclusion of her training as a mediwitch, however. It took her a good half hour to think through the situation and reach the conclusion, reluctantly, that she did have to treat this detestable woman.

She was able to repair the bones with spells; she'd have to delay offering some Skelegrow Potion until after Petunia regained consciousness. She was also able to spell down the swelling. As much as she did not want to do it, she'd gotten Petunia as good as new within minutes. She was able to waken Petunia as soon as she'd controlled the swelling in her brain, and gruffly presented her with a glass of potion and a muttered instruction to "Drink." Petunia took the offered glass and was able to get the dose down in a single gulp.

"I've fixed your broken jaw and cracked skull. This potion will strengthen the bones, and get them knit together; you should be fine by tomorrow. You need to remain here until tomorrow morning; if all is well then, you can return to your dormitory." Madam Pomfrey had decided that her vow required that she heal the woman, but not that she do anything to make her comfortable. She did not offer any food, or even pain potion. She'd done enough.

The next morning, Petunia was awake but lying in bed with her eyes closed, feeling neglected, abused and very sorry for herself. She'd been seriously injured, if the report of a fractured jaw and cracked skull were to be believed. Of course, she'd not seen an x-ray machine in this place, so who knew if that diagnosis was accurate? No one seemed to care that she'd been assaulted or injured. The more she thought on all this, the sadder she became, eventually tearing up and sobbing softly.

After a short doze, she wakened to hear someone nearby talking. She wasn't exactly eavesdropping, but these people were talking loudly enough that she could hear them easily. A man and woman were having a consultation with that nasty nurse person.

"Madam Pomfrey, we know that the practice has all but died out, but Margaret and I have discussed this and concluded that it is time for the Landon and Eccles lines to be bolstered by a squib surrogacy. We feel it is essential, especially in these troubled times, to ensure that our heir be magically strong. We plan on having many children, and will likely only want to rely on a surrogacy for the first, as Margaret is capable of bearing children, and wishes to do so. We also felt that this might be an opportune time to find a squib woman who wishes to become magical herself, with so many women only discovering right now that they have magic."

She nodded distractedly. "Mr. and Mrs. Landon, I can certainly understand your thinking. I agree that it is prudent for magical families to engage a surrogate every fourth or fifth generation to assure that the magical line remains strong. I've arranged dozens of such pregnancies, and I'm sure we can find someone willing to assist you. However, I believe our best option is to find a squib female in a magical family."

A young female voice now joined the conversation. "Poppy, we'd really prefer if we can do something for these poor things who have just learned that they have magic. This is our way of helping one of these creatures to find her magical home."

The nurse person chuckled at that. "You can't really expect that the squibs we've gathered here in the wake of the sleeping spell to be good candidates for surrogate motherhood. These women live without magic in the muggle world, and we have to assume that they will be returning to that world when this crisis passes. They have no knowledge or awareness of the magical world, so what does the promise of magic after bearing a magical child mean to them? Something that they can't take with them to their old world, and they aren't really a part of the magical world, either. No, the best arrangement would be for your surrogate to be someone in the magical world whose status as a squib relegates her to the fringes of our society, offering her a way of joining society more completely by finding her magic."

The man's voice rejoined the conversation. "Ah, I do see your point. Our compassion was perhaps misplaced. May Margaret and I leave this in your hands, and ask you to send us an owl if you identify a suitable candidate."

"I'd be happy to help. There are a few very discreet mediwitches I know at St. Mungo's who usually know of families with a squib daughter who would be thrilled to assist you. I'll make some inquiries directly."

Margaret replied "Eustace and I are ever so grateful, Poppy. We look forward to hearing from you."

Eustace? Even in this wretched world, really, how many people would saddle their child with the name Eustace? That must be Amaranth's friend, the one who showed her how to eat with a dagger when holding silverware was too painful. How tragic that such a nice young man and his wife needed to look for the services of a surrogate mother! He certainly looked like a healthy young man, but maybe his wife had a weakness? There was certainly nothing particularly pleasant about being pregnant for nine months, in Petunia's limited experience, but she assumed that any woman would prefer to birth her own baby.

Petunia went back to sleep for a short while, her sense of moral superiority restored by the knowledge that she'd personally given birth to her own son, and not asked someone else to handle that for her.

X X X X X X X X X X

The Sunday evening crowd in the Gryffindor common room had begun to dwindle when Nitrocris noticed Hermione sitting at one of the tables by herself. From what she'd heard of Hermione's study habits, it was safe to assume that she was getting caught up on the classes she'd missed the week before and would miss in the week to come. Nitrocris thought she'd be interested in what Professor Dumbledore had told her about the Marriage Stone, so she took at seat at the table Hermione was using and waited for Hermione to look up to acknowledge her presence.

It turned out that Hermione was quite interested in what Nitrocris had learned.

"I've been wondering about that. Admittedly, the day Professor Dumbledore suggested that we use the Marriage Stone to help Harry, we were in an absolute tizzy and we needed to do something fast. He seemed very pleased with the selection of Snape as Harry's partner, but things the others said indicated that the Marriage Stone had been behind some real disasters. If it worked for Harry, why on earth wasn't it in more general use? Why was it a great success at times, and an abysmal failure at others? No one explained anything about that."

Nitrocris had to agree. "I would never have imagined that a human heart and mind could do better than a magical artifact at understanding compatibility or love. Even your Sorting Hat purports to know the inner values and character of each new student. Why do you listen to the Sorting Hat, but hide the Marriage Stone?"

"Maybe it's like Professor Dumbledore said: the artifact knows one thing, or has one perspective. Hogwarts' founders each had a specific set of values, and the Sorting Hat can determine how each new student's character aligns with those values, and place the student in the House of the founder whose values best match his or her own. But the people in each House are not necessarily friends, they don't agree on many things, they all have very different lives. If you tried to use the Sorting Hat to predict more than the values that connect someone to a House, or try to extrapolate the sorting decision to mean more than that, maybe it would produce disasters, too."

"The Headmaster's perspective is that soul mates are not the same as love matches. He said he's seen many loving marriages where the husband and wife were very happy with each other, and they were not soul mates. He also said that soul mates were not necessarily reciprocal; just because a husband's soul mate is his wife does not mean that the Marriage Stone would identify him as her soul mate."

Hermione looked distressed at that news. "Oh, no. Could that mean, then, that while Snape is Harry's soul mate, Snape's soul mate could be someone else?"

Nitrocris just nodded as Hermione sadly shook her head.