Chapter 104 – Recognition and Premonition
The owl from the Ministry arrived just as Severus and Harry were getting ready to leave for breakfast. It was a huge bird, with an enormous parchment envelope tied to its leg. Once freed of its burden, it accepted some owl treats from Harry and took off, with much skreetching and flapping.
The envelope was covered with blobs of sealing wax and ribbons, and Severus eyed it suspiciously. Harry had no reservations. "Go on, then, open it! Looks official – what is it?" he insisted.
Turning it over a few times in his hands with a look of misgiving on his face, Severus finally broke the seals, scattering chunks of hardened wax all over. He extracted a parchment adorned with even more ribbons and seals, which he unfolded carefully. Harry had moved over next to Severus so he, too, could read whatever this was. It was Harry who exclaimed first "An Order of Merlin – that's fantastic! Congratulations!" Seeing his bondmate's sour expression, he continued in a softer voice "And this is not apparently a good thing. What's the problem?"
"No particular problem. I'm just not sure that the vampire potion is behind this. I can't imagine that enough people know about that, officially, for anything like this to have been done, and this fast."
"Maybe the lycanthropy potion has been tested? Might they have done that and not invited you?" Harry wondered. He did see the timing issue, and sensed that it bothered Severus, although he wasn't entirely sure what was wrong about it. This is an Order of Merlin, after all, and Harry could not imagine anyone more deserving.
"I'll discuss this with the Headmaster. I'm really not sure what this is all about."
Convinced that he would never understand the Slytherin mindset that saw conspiracies and ulterior motives in everything, Harry simply shrugged. "Well, anyway, congratulations. You sure do deserve this."
Word about the honor to be bestowed upon the Hogwarts Potions Master was the talk of the entire student body at breakfast, as the Daily Prophet seemed to have learned of it many hours before Severus himself heard. When he took his seat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, Harry was able to snag a copy of the newspaper as it was being passed around. The picture on the front page was the one taken of Severus as he stood with Harry after they returned from the Winter Lands, complete with the windblown hair and the leathers that looked so remarkable on him. The headline blared "Order of Merlin for Potter's Bondmate," and suddenly Harry understood Severus' concern. He scanned the accompanying article quickly, and was relieved to note that it did speak about Severus' contributions to the wizarding world; his worst fear after seeing the headline was that the Ministry was awarding the Order of Merlin to Severus just because he was Harry's bondmate – that would have been horrible. It appeared that the lycanthropy potion had been tested the day before and that Merik Volpine was now a magical animagus just like Remus Lupin, no longer a werewolf.
Harry looked to Hermione for her take on the news. She always seemed to understand the context of things, and could explain the larger picture.
"The Prophet's article actually goes into some detail about Professor Snape's lycanthropy potion, and that is definitely presented as the driving force behind this award. There's mention, way at the end of the article (Harry had to smile – she was probably the only person in the room to have read that far) that the test was conducted before a number of members of the Potions Master Guild, and with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Edward Aventine as witnesses, and there's mention that Lord Aventine appears to have been cured of his vampirism. The Prophet wrote that he was observed at the meeting to have been drinking tea and eating a biscuit. Nothing about how that came about, but it certainly invites readers to draw their own conclusions," she lectured, for the benefit of Harry as well as Ron, Neville and Seamus, who were all listening in.
"Then why use a headline that calls Severus "Potter's Bondmate" instead of giving his name?" Harry asked. "I had absolutely nothing to do with this. Why mention me at all?"
Even Ron had the answer to that. "Because your name will sell more papers, Harry! Yes, loads of people will recognize the name Snape, but everyone knows you."
Harry seemed only partially mollified. Looking again at Hermione, he sought further clarification. "Nothing in there suggests that Severus is getting this because of me, does it? He'll be livid, or worse, if there's any suggestion at that."
Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No, the Prophet is actually very complimentary about the potions work, and how this will enable many afflicted with lycanthropy to rejoin society fully. There is not a whiff of suggestion that you were the reason for this."
Luckily, Harry was looking rather intently at Hermione and did not see the look that passed between Ron and Neville when Harry predicted how Severus would react if the article suggested that the Order of Merlin was being presented to him because of Harry. They would probably never get used to the fact that Harry was bonded to the man, but that Harry had come to understand how he'd react to things appalled them.
Over at the Slytherin table, it had been automatically assumed that Potter had exerted his influence to get this honor for their Head of House, although as Slytherins, they were quite pleased that their Head of House was getting the honor. Draco, like Hermione, had actually read the article, and was pointing out that the man had brewed a potion that the Potion Masters Guild was certifying as a potential cure for lycanthropy, surely a contribution to society worthy on its own of the honor. He also targeted a few of his friends with more of a social bent. "Pansy, didn't you notice the reference to Lord Aventine at the end of the article? Including mention of the fact that the man was at the session drinking tea and munching on biscuits? What does that tell you? Why would that be in this article? They know that Snape also created the potion to cure vampires."
Pansy was among those who had not read (and had no intention of reading) the entire article, so this was the first she'd heard of Lord Aventine's presence at the meeting. Of course, she knew the man was a vampire, so it was quite amazing that he was now seen eating and drinking like a human. Even so, she'd never fully embraced the notion that vampires could be cured.
"Honestly, Parkinson! Don't you read between the lines?" Draco replied. That sort of statement was the ultimate challenge to a Slytherin, guaranteed to capture her attention, as well as the attention of everyone else seated at that end of the table. He took advantage of this opportunity to spell it all out for them. "Aventine is a known vampire, so the fact that he's been cured is going to be obvious to everyone. But haven't you gotten invited to a suspiciously large number of parties and receptions and teas over the next month being thrown by their families to welcome people back from vague trips abroad? Some of those people have been "abroad" for years, for Merlin's sake, and they left with no warning or preparation! Didn't you or your parents ever suspect what was behind those sudden disappearances? Don't you see a connection to what happened to Aventine and their returns home, all at the same time?"
Draco looked at Pansy and the others listening in on this conversation with impatience. "Why do you think they'd even bother mentioning Aventine in this article? This confirms that Snape had a hand in the vampires being cured! That's not something he did publicly, so the Ministry didn't cite it in making the award, but I'll wager that additional contribution from Snape is behind this decision, too."
Slowly, heads started to nod. When you considered all the facts, the way Draco explained them, that did seem to be the only possible outcome. A few also considered that Draco usually had inside information, especially with his father now sitting on the Wizengamot. The Slytherins were now quite comfortable that his interpretation was correct
Up at the Head Table, Severus looked particularly sour. Albus had been waiting for him at the front entrance to the Great Hall used by those seated at the Head Table. "Did you hear from the Ministry this morning, Severus?"
"An owl arrived as we were about to leave for breakfast. I admit to a certain concern about the honor, as I'm not aware of any public contribution on my part to warrant such a tribute," Severus replied.
"I got a report from Remus late last night. The Potion Masters Guild scheduled the test of your potion as soon as someone decided that one of potions they brewed following your instructions was ready, with no notice to anyone." To Severus' look of alarm, he added "Yes, foolish, not waiting for the time you told them to let the potion mature. But they went ahead anyway. You know that their protocol favors testing without the presence of the submitter, so it was mainly a matter of getting Merik Volpine there. They also invited the Daily Prophet to witness this. Fortunately, Sirius and Remus were at the Ministry last night. Sirius had coached Remus in short order on how to do the animagus transformation, and he was able to do the same for Merik. Merik always was good at Transfigurations, even when he was a student, so with Sirius' coaching and Remus' encouragement, he was fine. He took the potion and made it through all through the transformations, and he's cured now. It's all over the Prophet this morning. As it happened, Edward Aventine chose yesterday to attend to Wizengamot matters, so when he heard of the trial of the lycanthropy potion, he asked to join Sirius and Remus. He has said nothing about his situation, but one look at the man and you can see he's no longer a vampire. I understand he made rather a point of helping himself to a cup of tea and some biscuits and consumed them where all could see. That touched off quite a fuss, although I suspect he confided only to the Minister about how his cure came about. Anyway, for once, the Ministry chose to act ahead of public outcry, and Minister Bones announced that you'd be awarded the Order of Merlin, which is the lead story in the Prophet."
Severus took it all in, as a headache began to brew, and he heaved a heavy sigh. "Thank you for the warning, Headmaster. I do wish they'd given precedence to the success of the lycanthropy potion, and waited a bit on anything for me."
Albus genially patted him on the back. "Oh, all's well and all that, Severus. Congratulations, on both the proven potion and your Order of Merlin. Come along – I believe I overheard the house elves talking about chocolate chip pancakes this morning!"
X X X X X X X X X X
Voldemort was developing a headache of his own as he reworked his strategy at Riddle Manor. He grew wearier by the moment of the devoted flatterers with whom he had surrounded himself, who, for all their constant praises and expressions of devotion, could not seem to do anything right.
He reflected back on his original plan with a weary, sad sigh. It had all been so simple. The spell he cast, drawing power off his unsuspecting Death Eaters and broadcast through the ley lines so clearly described by Salazar Slytherin, was supposed to end the battle before it could begin. Everyone he did not favor should have been long dead, even the healthiest of them dead by now of dehydration.
Instead, that blasted Potter woke all the ones with magic, and that meddlesome Dumbledore was no doubt in on the development and casting of a spell to preserve the muggles while they slept off his sleeping spell. All that planning, for naught. Now, when he should have been basking in the dawn of a new era of his own design, he was reduced to planning a more traditional, messy war against those he despised, if he wanted to achieve that new era.
The worst part of all this was that this was no longer something he could do on his own. Once he'd decided to use a sleeping spell, he had no need to have his Death Eaters around him all the time; if anything, they were a liability. There was always the risk that one of the more boastful of them would tell someone else if they figured out what he planned to do. Driving them away then made it now that much harder to round them up again. Something also was impacting the Dark Marks. He'd heard that Potter had done something to remove all the Marks not long after he'd cast his spell, which was an annoyance, but he'd been able to persuade a fair percentage of his Death Eaters to take the Dark Mark again. But now the damned Marks did not stick at all – within days, they were all gone again!
Plus, his Death Eaters alone were never going to be sufficient army if this war had to be fought in the traditional way. He never anticipated the need to secure allies, either among like-minded wizards beyond those who took the Dark Mark, or other magical creatures. He had developed a list of beings who had been mistreated by wizards and began dispatching his loyal followers to make contact and begin discussions about potential alliances.
The giants were the first with whom he made contact, and he was reasonably confident that they'd fight on his behalf, although he did get a sense that the fools did not really trust him any more than they trusted wizards in general. Trolls could usually be manipulated. However, with such pitifully stupid creatures, the concept of "loyalty," to say nothing of more intricate battle plans, was most likely beyond them.
As much as his pure blood recoiled at the notion, he knew he needed the vampires. They were a group driven out of traditional wizard society and subjected to its worst scorn and treatment, and he was confident that they would rush to his side. He'd sent out several emissaries to make contact with the clans, but to his surprise, no one could find them! There were many thousands of vampires here in Great Britain alone, and as they were not welcome in the wizarding world, most of them allied with one of the dozen or so clans.
Voldemort had even insisted on visiting a few of the clan compounds to see for himself what was being reported to him by his minions. The houses were all standing, not so much as a broken window or loose porch rail in sight. The insides were clean and neat, too. There was no sign of struggle or attack. But there were no vampires, either.
It never occurred to Voldemort that the absence of any personal effects was significant. He'd never spent any time learning about the daily lives of vampires, and assumed that once they'd been bitten and crossed into this new reality, they wanted to be rid of any reminder of their former lives. He was not aware that most actually surrounded themselves with reminders of their human time. He had no way of knowing that the vampires had taken all of their personal mementos away with them, when they each returned to their families from their long sojourns "abroad," now that they had been cured of vampirism. He himself was not part of the wizarding society preparing to welcome these travelers home, so he had no growing stack of invitations like Draco Malfoy's to suggest that something was going on. He also had no interest in the goings-on of the wizarding world in general, so he'd never bothered to subscribe to the Daily Prophet. He thus did not know that the most well-known vampire was now attending meetings, where he was observed drinking tea and snacking on biscuits.
Voldemort simply returned to Riddle Manor and thought on what other groups were sufficiently disenfranchised by wizarding society to want to side with him in a battle against it.
X X X X X X X X X X
Harry had accepted Neville's invitation to join him in the greenhouses during his free period at mid-morning. He'd gotten totally irritated with the snarky comments directed to him or that he'd overheard in the castle about Severus receiving the Order of Merlin, suggesting that most of his classmates actually learned what little they knew of current events just from the headlines in the Daily Prophet. More than a few were firmly of the opinion that Harry had orchestrated this honor. Everyone knew that Severus had brewed a potion that cured Remus Lupin of lycanthropy, as the hearing at the Wizengamot had been extensively covered by the Prophet and Harry knew they'd all seen it. The possibility that Severus had also brewed a cure for vampirism had been going around the castle for weeks now, so the smart assumption would be that the rumors were true. Knowing then that Severus had conquered two of the most persistent and debilitating scourges of the wizarding world with his potions, how in Merlin's name could anybody wonder at all why the man was being awarded an Order of Merlin? As annoyed as this made Harry, he could only imagine the impact this nonsense was having on Severus. He needed a breather.
When they reached the greenhouses, Neville put on his dragonhide gardening apron, stuffed some shears and gloves with large dragonhide gauntlets in the pocket, and grabbed his clipboard. Harry laughed at the sight. "You look like you are going into battle! And here I am protected only by my student robe"
Neville looked awkward, as he often did, and muttered something about wanting to be ready should he need to do some quick pruning or clean-up. Harry just smiled at him good-naturedly, and tagged along as his friend made his rounds through the greenhouses. Neville's rounds consisted of a plodding stroll up and down the long rows, taking notes about things that needed to be done later, and every so often donning the gloves and gently (or sometimes not so gently) using the shears to control a wandering root or too-large branch. Harry made sure to stand well back and out of harm's way when Neville tackled his chores; he knew that there was good reason that the apron and gloves were made of dragonhide.
More to make conversation as they walked along, Harry asked if Neville had heard recently from Nitrocris. A shy, but surprisingly warm, smile came over Neville's face. Well, well!
"I got a letter from her just yesterday. The mourning period for her uncle and cousin ended and she's been busy. She said she was going to move her family off to a wizarding community outside of Cairo, to get them away from her and her government at Thebes, but her advisor, the one she likes, persuaded her to keep them closer so they can't plot against her. Isn't that awful, that her own family would act that way to her?"
Neville almost immediately realized that was a very insensitive thing to say to Harry, given that he seemed to have an uncle, aunt and cousin just as bad if not worse. He looked mortified, and shrugged as he muttered "Sorry."
Harry patted him on the back. "It is awful, but it's not uncommon at all," he offered by way of accepting the apology.
"Anyway, she's getting her government set up, weeding out the people her uncles had put into power, defining her own path. She has amazing plans, you know? She's almost as smart as Hermione, she thinks of things and sees connections the same way. She talks a lot about her time here, very grateful to you for having invited her."
"And I'm really glad that she came," Harry responded, thinking to himself that this sounded like a rather significant correspondence going on between Nitrocris and Neville. "She had so little contact with people outside her family, and as you said, they didn't have her best interests at heart. I'm glad she got to meet people here." He smiled broadly as he added, with a soft jab of his elbow into Neville's ribs, "Particularly you, it seems."
Neville offered a sheepish smile, but Harry saw the blush that crept across his face. Suddenly, Harry understood the meaning of the path he'd seen before Neville a while back, showing distance and sand.
Well, well, WELL!
The two friends continued on Neville's rounds, until, as they entered the next greenhouse, they ran into Petunia, tending to the row of plants that were "hers." Neville looked terribly uncomfortable, but nodded to her and clearly intended to just move along as quickly as possible, in deference to Harry. To Neville's surprise, Harry very calmly stopped to speak to his aunt, and gestured for Neville to continue on without him. "I'll catch up with you at lunch, Nev. Thanks for the chat."
Petunia gave Harry a suspicious look as she wiped her hands after removing them from the large leather gloves, but said nothing.
"I haven't seen you in quite a while, Aunt Petunia. I just wanted to stop and ask if all is well," Harry began. Petunia continued to look at him with suspicion and some distaste, but the aggressive hostility she'd displayed whenever he spoke to her before was gone. It wasn't much progress, but it was something.
""Well, it's been no bed of roses, but I've managed. I was looking forward to going home, and a bit disappointed when the principal said that the school was going to stay open through the summer. I assume that means we have to stay here."
Harry did not take the bait, although he wasn't entirely sure if she really intended to goad him. "The Headmaster heard from the Ministry of Magic that they do not believe that the muggles will be waking up for another month or so, based on the tests the medical staff at St. Mungos has run. We have some students at Hogwarts who are muggle-born, so their families are all here and they have nowhere else to go, and even in the magical world, things are tense, so he decided we'd just keep the school open through the summer." With a slight shrug, he added "You really should stay here until Uncle Vernon and Dudley wake up – they'll be fine until they wake, and don't really need tending. But if you took them back to Privet Drive now, you'd be on your own. It would probably be safe, I suppose, but there would be no one to call if you had a problem, and food for you would be a problem. You'd only have what's in your cupboard, and likely no way to get more. But don't feel that you're being held here against your will. If you really want to leave, I'll make sure that you are brought back to Privet Drive."
That subtle reminder that Harry had some sway in the magical world seemed to bring her up short, and she considered the scenario he described. The food issue did not bother her too much, but the idea that she'd be on her own and might be in danger was something that concerned her. "Well, maybe it would be best if I stayed here until the three of us can go back together."
The mention of her Vernon and Dudley brought to mind another issue. "By the way, I went to visit Vernon and Dudley in the Infirmary the other day. It was very disturbing to see them just sleeping in beds, with no monitors or intravenous drips! This cannot be acceptable medical care – how can the nurse know that they are well if there is no means to monitor them, and how on earth are they getting sustenance? I fear for what they will be like when they wake! Is this all part of the National Health Service? If someone presents Vernon with a bill for his care here, I am sure he will have strong words, indeed, about that!"
Harry nearly burst out laughing at the things that occupied his aunt's mind. "They are just sleeping, you know, they're not sick. The magic that made them go to sleep is also now keeping them healthy while they sleep – they are not in danger of starving or dehydrating. They'll be just like they were when they wake up. There are muggles sleeping all over the world, almost all in their homes, or stores or offices, some even in their cars. When they do wake up, they'll be fine, too."
"Then why were we brought here?" Petunia asked, somewhat less demanding than usual.
"Because right after everyone was sent to sleep, we didn't know that we'd be able to change the magic in the sleeping spell to make it protect the muggles while they slept. The original sleeping spell was just to make people sleep, and if they did not get water, they would die of dehydration. We started bringing all the students' families here right away. If we could not come up with a way to save everyone, we would at least save our families."
Now Petunia looked totally perplexed. "You asked those two hooligans to come to my house and bring us all here?" A belch escaped; apparently "hooligans" was sufficiently negative to invoke Severus' spell.
"Actually, I was unconscious after I cast the spell to wake everyone with magic. But my friends immediately got together to work out the rescue plans. I understand that there was some discussion about what to do about you, but in the end, they felt I'd want them to get you. So here you are. And, no, the Hogwarts Infirmary is not part of the National Health Service. I'm also pretty sure that there will not be a bill presented to Uncle Vernon for his and Dudley's stay in the Infirmary, nor for your room and board for your stay in the castle. We don't use muggle money here, anyway. If there is a charge, I'll pay it."
In Harry's mind, he had ample money and was certainly able to offer to pay for something if payment was needed. It had nothing to do with whether or not the Dursleys deserved this assistance, but entirely with the fact that he was in a position to help them. On the other hand, the offer puzzled Petunia profoundly, because in her mind, that calculation would be reversed. It did not matter if she was completely able to provide what was needed, but it hinged on her opinion as to whether what was needed was deserved. He watched her process his offer with curiosity, while she directed a most peculiar look at the boy. He thought he saw some guilt in there; she and Vernon and begrudged him even the smallest things, to the point of sending him all of fifty pence as a Christmas gift.
Petunia considered that they'd been at this place for two months already, and it sounded now like another month, so whatever the charge was, it was likely to be significant. Where on earth would he get money like that? And what was he up to, offering to pay their way? Petunia's inner thoughts on Harry's source of funds and surprising generosity were derailed because the word "money' triggered a question that had been on Petunia's mind. "Is there a bank where I could cash a check, or an ATM machine here where I could get some money? I wanted to go with some of the women into the town near here, and realized I have no cash with me."
"No, there are no ATMs around here; magic and machinery don't mix well. And you've learned that wizards don't use muggle money. The wizard bank in Diagon Alley can change muggle money, but there's not a branch here. If you need something, I can arrange for you to buy it in town – there's a magical way to access funds in the wizard bank. Or I'll give you some wizarding money, if you'd rather just have some Galleons."
Petunia was torn between shock that Harry would freely give to her what she and her family had denied him resolutely for years, and a certain venal curiosity about how this boy suddenly had a source of funds. Harry saw the cunning look on her face, and realized that years of living with Vernon Dursley had clearly worn off on her; she was probably calculating if there was some way to profit from whatever money Harry seemed to have in the magical world. Some things apparently did not change.
Harry turned to walk back to the castle, as he said "I'll have one of the house elves put some Galleons in your dresser drawer. If you need something that costs more, let me know which shop you'll need to visit, and I'll set up a payment arrangement so you can shop."
Petunia watched him walk away, a number of emotions warring within her. She knew that her Vernon would be all over the money issue: Did the boy have a source of funds, and if so, why hadn't they been given access to that money as they raised him? Goodness knows, there was a rough patch there with Vernon's business and the Smeltings fees for Dudley were substantial; they could have used that money!
But now Harry had offered financial assistance to her very freely and without reservations. Certainly, neither she nor Vernon would ever consider doing something like that. The offer seemed genuine. There had to be more to this than met the eye, and she could simply not puzzle it out. She was just glad that her time at Hogwarts was coming to an end soon – one more month, he said. She really missed her normal life, that must be what this is. She needed to get back to Privet Drive as quickly as possible, and then she'd feel much better.
For now, she worked her hands back into the thick leather gloves and determined to finish collecting leaves from the row before her before it was time for lunch.
For his part, as he walked back to the castle, Harry realized that he heard the ravens complimenting him on the manner in which he conducted himself with Aunt Petunia, one finding it particularly amusing that in doing the right and generous thing, he'd actually made her more anxious and distressed than if they'd had an argument. Then, the ravens began to whisper their secrets into Harry's ear.