Chapter 140 - Miscommunications
Petunia had finally bid the last of her guests "goodbye" and poured herself another glass of wine before taking her seat again in the chair closest to the window. She couldn't taste the wine, of course, but it took the edge off her emotions, and she hoped she would finally be able to sleep tonight.
The services had been very nice. The lovely lady from Sir Harold's office had been a God-send, as she really took care of everything. And it was perfect. Even Marge had nothing to find fault with, for once.
Dudders was the perfect young gentleman, greeting guests, looking after her, the way her Vernon had once done. That thought brought forth a fresh flood of tears. Her poor darling boy, now left to grow to manhood without his wonderful father as his role-model! Of course, Dudders had chatted with Sir Harold, and some of the men who'd attended with him, and no doubt made an excellent impression.
Actually, the fact that Sir Harold Beckwith, himself, had been at the funeral services and was seen sitting with the family made quite the impression on her neighbors, she was sure. She made certain that the Cavendishes were introduced to the man, as between the two of them, word was sure to get through the immediate neighborhood, the Garden Club, church, and the business community in Little Whinging.
Business community – hah! No community there! Again, Miss Smythe-Jones had been an absolute rock. The person from Grunnings who called her back had actually tried to stop payment on the bonus check Vernon had deposited into their joint account before heading north. Then there were other issues about Vernon's insurance, and his pension account. They would have left her penniless, if they had their way. Fortunately, Miss Smythe-Jones' liberal use of Sir Harold's name, and a further call from Sir Harold's solicitors, had smoothed all the problems. At least now there was adequate money for Dudders to finish school, and she'd be comfortable, albeit in somewhat limited circumstances.
Oh, Marge had sniffed about, too. Something about money left by the Dursley parents to their two children many years back, that she felt should come to her now. The old cow! The solicitor got all that straightened right out, too, and Marge left in a huff again.
Petunia sobbed softly into a handkerchief as she contemplated life without her Vernon. She never noticed the owl who landed on her front porch and dropped a thick vellum envelope through the mail slot before taking wing.
Petunia noticed the envelope the next morning, when she went to collect the newspaper. It was frigid out there – she actually took the time to put on her coat, as it was too cold to just slip out for a second in her wrapper. She recognized the handwriting on the vellum as that of Amaranth Savoy. Petunia was surprised to realize that she was actually more interested in opening the letter than looking at the newspaper. She usually looked through the Society pages, while Vernon read the news of the day and sports, unless Dudders was at home, in which case, he got the sports pages first. The newspaper sat unopened as she gently opened the thick envelope and extracted the parchment it contained.
To Petunia's surprise, Amaranth knew of her Vernon's passing – someone at the Ministry had mentioned it to her husband - and in gentle if somewhat oblique terms, she expressed sympathy to her friend. Vernon had been a little bit rude to Amaranth when they met at Hogwarts; not as bad as he'd been with some, but it was no doubt a struggle for Amaranth to come up with any fond memories of the man. But she tried, and reached out to her friend to express concern for her and her family at a sad time. Petunia let her tea get cold as she read and re-read the letter several times, relishing the concern of another human being set forth in such an open and honest way.
That feeling of honesty had been sorely missing from the visits and rites that had just concluded. What did Sir Harold or the Grunnings chairman know of Vernon, or her? They did not really care. Nor, she suspected, did the other Grunnings employees (except perhaps that simpering spinster Miss Enderlee – Petunia did not want to think about that), nor the neighbors, nor the ladies from the Garden Club. It was a social event for them, made all the more interesting by the presence of a couple of community leaders there for their own personal reasons, not for her and not for Vernon. And Vicar Bradley, as kind as he had been, delivered a sincere but generic eulogy. Petunia had not felt that anyone was there sincerely out of concern for her, and reading Amaranth's note, she realized the lack most clearly.
X
Things at Hogwarts were almost back to normal as the new year began. Cold weather as cold as anyone could remember settled in with the storm on New Year's Eve day, and it stayed that way through February. The castle was cold and drafty as usual, and the house elves were kept busy keeping the tents that housed the families staying on at the castle charmed and cozy in the frigid weather.
The aurors and others from the Ministry departed within days of classes resuming. The field where the battle had been fought was quickly covered with a pristine blanket of white snow, and it was not possible to imagine that a battle had occurred there just days before. Students who had left for the holidays were back, and some of the guests in the castle departed for their own homes. Classes resumed, and the world went on.
The ravens still visited Harry every day right before lunch. Of course, Professor Dumbledore had noticed the magic that concealed the siege engines on the field almost as soon as it was cast, and the ravens confirmed that the concealment was part of the grand plan for the next battle. The images were still blurry, a sign that specific details were likely not yet clear even to Voldemort, but Harry initially managed the daily visits well. Most of the images were of a place not right near Hogwarts, which was itself a relief. It looked remote and windswept, cold and barren.
At Severus' request, he and Harry now practiced dueling twice a week at least, more if their schedules permitted. Harry was happy with that, as he missed the physical activity he got with Quidditch and flying, curtailed in the cold winter months. Harry enjoyed the time with Severus and the intimacy of the contact they had while Severus taught him new moves. Harry had a good amount of natural athletic ability and was able to keep up, even if his technique was nowhere near as polished as Severus'.
If Severus' was experiencing his own insights, he was not sharing anything with Harry, who assumed that silence meant no visions.
Severus himself was curious about the lack of new awareness or revelations. He decided to practice the meditations he has once used with his occlumency training, to see if that triggered anything, but he felt just as he had before. He'd known all along, after all, that the third battle was the one that would count, and that was the one in which Harry played a part. Beyond that, nothing had changed.
The general quiet in January did allow Severus to resume some of his personal brewing and experimentation, which he had reluctantly set aside some months ago. He frequently lost himself for hours in the evenings in his personal lab, and Harry would either join him to work at his own desk on his school work, or spend the time with his friends in the Gryffindor common room.
Harry was surprised that Neville did not share his rather momentous plans with anyone else, but of course, Hermione suspected. For once, she restrained herself from asking questions. She had her own studies, and her work to finalize the paper she was submitting for publication. Her dogged persistence in going through dusty old files in the Ministry archives had finally paid off with a few documented historical cases that supported her theory. Of course, Severus' story would have been a much more noteworthy proof, but she got what the editor felt was necessary, so it all worked out.
Events outside of Hogwarts did not remain on an even keel for very long, however. Diagon Alley hung in, but foot traffic was much less than it would normally be. Most blamed the unusually cold weather on their sudden preference for conducting their business via owl, but in truth, people were scared. Back in Little Hangleton, Lord Voldemort had refocused his minions on harassing witches and wizards rather than muggles. Oh, it had been fun to watch the Ministry trip all over itself to placate the whining muggles, but ultimately, it was just an annoyance and a distraction to the Ministry, not something that actually brought them up short. No, it was now time to focus, and that had to be on those with magic.
The initial attacks were not fully understood by the Light. More random attacks? Accidents? There were any number of theories, so Voldemort decided he had to make it completely clear that he and his Dark allies were behind it. The attacks were brutal, usually fatal, and focused on those allied with the Ministry and the Light. Homes were not just burned to the ground; they exploded. Individuals were not kidnapped; entire families disappeared, perhaps to be found soon thereafter all brutally slain. It did not take the Ministry long to appreciate that its workers in particular were under attack, and it began offering accommodations to workers to remain behind the wards there overnight. Those fortunate enough to live in heavily warded homes felt safe staying there, but that basically meant that everyone who lived in a place other than a few of the old city homes in London, and the estates in High Hill County was looking for alternative accommodations. The population at Hogwarts swelled once again as families of students and Ministry workers huddled in behind the wards.
One unfortunate outcome of such large numbers of people stuck for an extended time in a freezing cold castle was the overwhelming smell of wet woolens that seemed to cling to the stones themselves. By mid-February, people were setting large fires in the fireplaces in their rooms to disguise the fact that they opened the windows to get some fresh, if freezing, air. The need for fresh air was accompanied by a strong desire to just get outside. A Hogsmeade weekend had even been organized through the tunnels that linked the castle to the town, because it was too cold to walk there, but people really wanted to spend some time out of the crowded castle.
Harry's visits from the ravens also became more troublesome as the winter progressed. The visions they provided grew dark, of somewhere with almost no light. And they presented what seemed to be the same vision day after day, with screeches and caws that did not explain anything. Harry had suffered through this vagueness before Voldemort cast his spell, and he was hoping greater diligence on his part might enable him to decode the message in time to take some sort of meaningful action. Every vision was shared with Severus as it unfolded, and duly reported to the Headmaster, but the sameness of the visions had reached the point that the Headmaster suggested to Severus that he bring Harry up to discuss only those visions that differed from prior visions.
Harry finally shared his frustration with Hermione over lunch one day, when she gently questioned his growing bad mood.
"It's not you, Mione. I'm getting frustrated with the ravens," he explained quietly. "They bring me these visions, and Severus is great, he helps me be sure I'm looking at everything and all, but nothing is ever different. Even the Headmaster has suggested, not quite in these words, of course, that we not bother him with more of the same, just come by when something changes."
Hermione seemed puzzled. "These are Odin's familiars, and their intelligence made him invincible in battle. They can't have lost their touch. They were right, sort of, about Voldemort's plans when they were bringing you messages before he cast the spell. The visions they bring you must mean something!"
"Right, but what? And how can we figure out what they mean? The Headmaster is clearly done with them, until there is something more obvious."
Hermione noticed that Ron and Neville had quieted and were listening, as was Draco. She looked at the others with a look that promised very bad things indeed if they spoke against what she was going to propose. "Why don't the four of us meet with Harry to deconstruct these visions, and keep records so we can help him identify any changes? We could do it in the evening, maybe in an unused classroom or even the Room of Requirement. No one else knows about this, so we have to keep it quiet, so we really can't do this in a common room, or even the library."
Ron nodded immediately. Neville and Draco had always been on the periphery of the goings on with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and were each very flattered to be included now. Somewhat more slowly, they nodded their agreement.
Thus began nightly meetings at eight o'clock at the kitchen table in Severus' and Harry's quarters. Harry proposed that as one of the most private spaces available, where notes and such could be stored without fear of discovery. The first meeting set the pattern. Harry would report exactly what he and Severus had teased from his visions at mid-day, and Hermione or Draco made their usual careful notes on the top of a large sheet of parchment. There would be a discussion of what it might mean, what might be different from the prior day. Questions might be posed to Harry, but he and Severus did a very complete job of experiencing and remembering the visions as they came to Harry and there was almost never anything to add to what had already been shared.
This went on for several days, at which point Ron was beginning to think the Headmaster had the right idea. Hermione remained convinced that the ravens had been Odin's and they were the key to very significant intelligence in the battle to come, and she wasn't giving up. Finally, it was Neville who posed the question that changed everything.
"OK, Harry, so you can't see anything – it's all pitch black wherever the ravens are showing you. Can you smell anything? Or hear anything, apart from the ravens cawing at you?"
Harry stared at Neville in surprise. "I hadn't thought of that. A couple of weeks ago, I was seeing visions of remote land, very desolate, and then it suddenly went dark. I have heard things in visions before, not just the ravens, but nothing has been loud enough to drown them out lately. I can try to listen harder, and smell? I don't think that's been part of anything before, but I can pay closer attention."
Neville nodded seriously, and offered some advice. "You said this was somewhere remote. Can you smell the ocean? Or maybe a brackish pond? Or maybe it's a farm, so perhaps you can smell the land. Maybe there's a forest nearby, so the smell of rotting leaves? Are there people or animals about, maybe you can smell them. Are there any animal noises – bullfrogs? Small animals scurrying? Farm animals?"
To Severus' surprise, thereafter, Harry would complete discussing the visions with him, but remain connected to the vision for several minutes after they stopped speaking. He was sniffing mightily, and listening as best he could.
"Mr. Potter, I would remind you that these are called 'visions' for a reason – they are visual messages. It is unlikely that there are scents and sounds accompanying them," he'd argued, when Harry explained the few extra minutes he was spending.
"Humor me, Severus. We are getting nowhere right now with the visuals, so I'm willing to spend a few minutes to explore anything that might be made known through another of my senses."
He had relied so completely on the visuals he was getting that it took some effort to hone his listening and smelling skills, but after a few days, he thought he started to get something for his effort.
Harry reported the input from his other senses to his friends, given Severus' reaction to his efforts. At first, it wasn't much, but as his senses grew stronger and suggestions from the others helped him fine-tune his approach, he realized that there were scents and noises that provided clues when the world before him went dark.
One evening, a week or so after the quintet had begun meetings, Severus learned about the evening meetings. He had completed his daily paperwork, made his evening visit to the Slytherin common room and assured himself that all was under control, and spent some time on his personal brewing. He had come to a break point in his work, where he could safely put the potion in stasis and return to work on it another day, and realized that it was still early enough to enjoy a leisurely soak in the tub with Harry, and perhaps some other intimate activities. He was not pleased at all, therefore, to arrive in his rooms only to hear a loud discussion under way in his kitchen.
He stood still for a minute to identify the interlopers. Naturally, Miss Granger's strident tones were the loudest, and Weasley, no surprise there. He heard Draco Malfoy, as well. Not as much a surprise as it might have once been. And someone else – there was a voice that was not immediately clear to him. As he puzzled it out, a shocking comment from Draco provided the answer: "Good point, Neville. We do need to consider it from that angle."
Longbottom?
Severus was sufficiently motivated by curiosity at that point to make his presence known and join the group in the kitchen.
There were parchments suspended in the air around the room, each with a date noted at the top and some notes about Harry's visions. He recognized that much. Then each parchment had notes about what Harry apparently smelled or heard or otherwise felt as he tried to peer into the darkness that was a feature of each vision. Not much detail at first, it seemed, but the latest entries had a great deal of information, about temperature, ambient sounds and smells. The discussion that he had interrupted was about the likely location of what the group had determined was an encampment of some sort.
Harry smiled sheepishly at Severus when he entered. "We've been meeting to go over the visions, since I thought there had to be more to them, even if we were not able to see what was going on."
Severus smirked at that news. Typical Gryffindors. The most brilliant wizard of their day, and the many experienced witches and wizards with special skills who worked at the Ministry, had become suspicious that there was no value to these visions , so this little group makes it a project to delve even deeper into the black visions and see what no one else was able to see.
Harry smirked back, and went on. "It was Neville who initially suggested that I try to identify any smells or sounds, and while I still am not able to see much when the visions are shown to me, I have gotten better at noticing smells and sounds, and the temperature, things like that. We've worked out that I'm being shown camps, occupied by British wizards – they speak English – and some other creatures – more than one kind of creature, I think. No one is happy where they are, they are cold and uncomfortable, but seem to feel duty-bound to stay there. No trees around, they are out in the open, so it's very windy. Ample food supplies, it seems, as there is always something that smells good cooking over a fire. I think we know what I'm being shown, but we're still working on the where."
Neville took a big gulp and picked up the story. "Harry said he can hear a brook, but no waves or ocean. He can smell the earth, so there's some vegetation nearby, it's not barren rocks. Like he said, no trees, so it's not in a forest, but I'm not ruling out a large clearing." He nodded toward a large parchment on the table, rather than hovering around the room. "We're trying to pin down as much detail as we can about the geography and vegetation, so we can pinpoint a likely location."
Severus stared at the group. He was not so quick to give up his suspicion that this group was wasting its time delving into the impenetrable black visions, but between what Harry and Longbottom just said, it sounded like maybe, just maybe, they did find something. He conjured up another chair, and sat to listen in as they chatted on.
They had all seen the absence of visual input as a signal to look for other inputs, on the assumption that there had to be value in the visions. But as he listened to them review what they'd already discerned about the sounds and smells that Harry was able to capture, it occurred to him: perhaps the darkness itself was an input. All (but one) of them were Gryffindors, after all. They were poised for action. No visual? Move on – is there sound? Or smell? There was nothing wrong with looking for other inputs and they seem to have uncovered useful information, but they might have also missed something in simply pushing past the darkness as they did. Something to think about.
When the four others finally left, the evening was far less young than it had been, and Severus was far more tired than he'd been when he first returned to his rooms.
"What brought you back to our rooms so early, Severus?" Harry asked as he prepared for bed. "Not a problem with your brewing, I hope?"
"No, I reached a point when I could either put it in stasis and return later, or commit to several more hours of brewing before I reached the next such point. I was rather hoping that I'd find you here and amenable to a bath, or something like that," Severus replied, a bit unsure how his admission would be received.
Harry looked crestfallen at that news. He cast a quick Tempus charm; it really was rather late. But then he brightened. "If it's too late for a bath, we can still take a quick shower," he suggested.
Severus' face brightened at Harry's interest in some personal contact, although he still harbored some disappointment at not being able to relax in the warmth of the tub. As he soaped Harry's hair and massaged his scalp, Severus admitted to some admiration for the work of Harry and his friends.
"Hrmmph" Harry managed, lost in the bliss of the massage.
"We shall meet with the Headmaster and the Ministry representatives first thing tomorrow, I think. Invite the others to join us. The Ministry has people who should be able to sort through the sounds and smells you five have identified. Frankly, you took a more creative approach than they ever would, but now that you do have some information to work with, let's let them work with it."
Harry pivoted under Severus' hands to face him, a grin now on his face. "Creative, huh?" he asked, poking Severus (gently) in the ribs. "Praise for Gryffindors?"
"Well, of course, one of the group was a Slytherin," Severus replied, more for form than with any expectation that Draco had been the one to come up with this alternative approach.
Harry guessed that Severus would give Hermione sole credit for the insight. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, but the others had contributed. "Hermione was the one who suggested that we get together to go over the visions even when all I saw was darkness. Neville came up with the idea of looking for smells and sounds, but it's been a group effort all along. Everyone has different experiences, has been different places. It's been a group effort."
"And a good one. I think it will be interesting to see what the Ministry can come up with, if given a clear enough map to what might be learned. Now, enough about your little friends. " Severus pushed Harry back under the water, to get the shampoo out of his hair, before pulling him out of the shower and pursuing some of those intimate activities he'd hoped to get to hours ago.
The next morning, Severus arranged for a meeting with Albus, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the others from the Ministry who had been tasked with evaluating Harry's visions. For his part, Harry alerted the other members of the group to join them in the Ministry annex as soon as they finished breakfast.
The Ministry workers were a bit hostile to the idea that these five school children thought they had found something, when they, with all their experience and expertise, thought nothing existed. Grudgingly, they had to admit, this was Potter. He'd done some remarkable things before. And Professor Dumbledore seemed suitably impressed with what they presented. Shacklebolt, as well, seemed to put great store in what the Longbottom boy described, in terms of vegetation and the likely area in which it might be found. Reluctantly, they took their own notes, and asked to make a copy of the notes the little group had created.
It was reasonably clear that the Hogwarts students were not abandoning this to the Ministry. They were just sharing the information that they had developed with the Ministry. There really was no hope that this was going to go away. If the Ministry simply ignored it, the chances were that this little group would persist and might even figure it out on their own. That would not look good for the careers of anyone at the Ministry who could have sorted it out faster. It was with the air of bureaucrats resigned to having to tackle a new and unwelcome project that the Ministry workers returned to their offices after an hour.
While Ron and Hermione had participated with Harry in assorted meetings with rather important people, Neville was new to this. Draco's exposure was minimal, but he was not going to admit that. Still, Harry collected the others in an alcove before they joined their classmates and reminded everyone that this was very confidential and could not be mentioned to anyone else. Neville simply nodded his acceptance. Draco had planned to tell his father, but under the blatant stares of the others, he had to acquiesce. Maybe later, there would be an opportunity to mention his role here, when it was over.
Severus lost his free period to the meeting, and felt he was playing catch-up all day. He was bothered by something, but couldn't put his finger on it, and he really did not like that sensation. He was cross and short-tempered (not that anyone could tell that anything was different about him today as he bullied his classes, of course). It came to him in his mid-afternoon class that he really wanted to get out of the castle this weekend. Well, that made sense. The place reeked. It was noisy. It was drafty and cold. Why would any sane person want to stay, if there was an option? There had to be options. A short break, maybe just Saturday evening to Sunday morning. It would do him a world of good. He'd speak to Harry – it was as likely he'd relish a short break, too. Harry remained very reluctant to go into Hogsmeade; Severus wasn't sure he'd gone back at all since the episode so long ago when he was attacked there by Death Eaters. He had to be as stir-crazy as Severus felt.
As Severus came to this conclusion about his upcoming weekend, he sent a particularly nasty glare at a sixth year Hufflepuff and had the reward of reducing the young woman to tears. His pleasure at that carried him happily through the rest of the day.
X
Harry was pleased (surprised, but pleased) when Severus broached the subject of getting out of the castle for a day over the weekend.
"We haven't been back to the Winter Lands since Christmas," he said with enthusiasm, "and I heard from Sirius that he's made some good progress on the hotel. We could visit the main compound, if Diana is up there, and then stop at Sirius', and then on to our own compound."
Severus frowned. "It's hideously cold here, and you propose that we go farther north?" He gave no voice to his inner horror at such a . . . social . . . outing. Typical Gryffindor – Harry wants to visit everyone he knows up there if he's in the neighborhood.
"Well, where would you suggest for a short trip?" Harry replied, not sure what alternatives were even available to them.
Severus had to admit – he hadn't actually considered destinations. It was not really an auspicious time to make their first trip to Snape Manor, as the wards still had to be tuned to Harry. And there weren't too many options close by that had sufficiently strong wards. Malfoy Manor was a non-starter for obvious reasons. While the Malfoy's pied-a-terre in Paris might be made available, and was too small for the hosts to join them, it might not be available. Ultimately, the last thing Severus wanted was to be in Lucius' debt. He could not think of anyone else he knew well enough to ask for the use of a home or vacation home, whose property would have sufficiently strong wards. There were any number of public houses or inns that have comfortable accommodations, and Severus had been to a few over the years, but the wards were never as strong as at private homes.
He ultimately just shrugged at Harry. This was, after all, about getting out of this castle rather than going to someplace with better weather.
"I don't have an alternative suggestion. That is perhaps the most appropriate destination, despite the weather."
Saturday right after lunch, Harry and Severus used a portkey to travel to Bifrost Hall compound in the Winter Lands. Diana Brand was ensconced in the relative warmth of her London home, but Alrik and Asgeir were pleased to welcome them to Bifrost Hall and brought them to the main hall of the castle, bustling even more than it had been over a year ago when Harry was first there. Sconces flamed against the walls, piercing the gloom of a winter mid-day. The tables were crowded and children played between and even under them. A slight hush fell over the tables as the four men passed, as whispers of recognition spread through the hall.
"Aye, this bitter cold weather," Asgeir offered in explanation for the crowded room, ignoring the reaction of his landsmen to the guests. "No one can be outside for too long, so we gather in the Hall. This is always the worst part of the year for us, February and March, but we have April to look forward to. At least the warriors are able to spend some time down at Hogwarts. That's a very sought-after posting."
He gestured to a table toward the front of the Hall. Harry thought it looked like either the Head Table at Hogwarts, or some sort of reserved space for the Brands and their guests, for it was a comfortable spot kept open in the crowded room. "Have a seat, Lords Potter and Snape, and some drink, and food if you are hungry. We can talk for a bit, before you head to your own home."
Harry and Severus accepted goblets of ale, and declined plates of food. Severus could not help but notice how flirtatious the young serving girls were, particularly fussing over Harry, and he rewarded them with a withering glare. Harry broke the awkward silence that settled in once the goblets and plates were in place. "We do appreciate that your men are guarding Hogwarts. Is that creating a problem here? Are they needed?"
Alrik shook his shaggy head. "Of course not, Harry! With the farms in for the winter, and the days so short, there isn't much for the men to do here. It's been a God-send this year to still be able to rotate our young men off to your castle, give them something to do, or to look forward to. Haven't had this low a rate of drunkenness or mischief-making up here in years, thanks to that."
Severus absorbed that. "You have no crafts or tool repair, or other things to occupy the families in the winter?" That struck him as very odd, given how long the winters were.
"Well, until last year," Alrik went on, "the winters were the main time that the dementors attacked. They were out there all the time, but it was always worse in the winter. We have all huddled together in the big keeps over winter for as long as everyone can remember. We did it again this year out of habit, I suppose, because thankfully, the dementors are not a factor now. But since so many people left their farms and compounds in November, we're in the habit of working hard as soon as we harvest to repair tools and such, as we don't expect to be back to the farms until April."
Severus looked at his brother-in-law with surprise. "I had no idea. Black's compound, the trading area, will change this? Do you plan to keep that open year-round, or just in the summer?"
Asgeir smiled. He saw a potential ally in Lord Snape. "I have spoken strongly for a year-round market. That is a big change from the way things have been here, and there is resistance." A glance at his son suggested the resistance started there. "In the beginning, the trade at the compound will largely involve our natural resources – farm produce, potions ingredients, ores, so at least some of our offerings have a seasonal aspect. But several of the families have been speaking about expanding their farms, adding livestock that will increase the sorts of cheeses, meats and maybe even woolen products we can produce."
Alrik took the bait. "I agree, we need to change this focus on everyone clustering like this in the large keeps. Not particularly healthy, and as I said, drunkenness and mischief have been a problem in the past. But I'm not sure, nor are many others, that it will be better if families now become slaves to commerce, having to stay on their farms all year. We build our community here, gathering for the winter." He glared at his father, and then looked glumly into his goblet. "Our raw materials might be valuable but I'm not so sure, after generations of isolation from the rest of the world, that we'd produce anything that would be appreciated or valued, anyway."
"You can't be serious!" Harry blurted. "People need something to do. If they are tending to livestock, starting small business operations on their farms, whether it's cheese-making, or meat-curing, or even making yarn from wool, it will give them purpose. And with all the attention to the Winter Lands lately, all the people who want to live here, for Merlin's sake, I'd think anything from the Winter Lands would be worth more!"
Severus had to agree with Harry. Merely labeling something as a product of the Winter Lands would enable it to command a premium. Potions ingredients had been that way for years. The novelty of anything else from here would assure a ready market.
And these fools were leaving their marketing to Black. Merlin help them.
His compound was the next stop on their visit. It was actually just visible from the upper towers of Bifrost Hall, through trees now empty of leaves, across a valley and a small river. Harry and Severus sought out the floo connection, declining the offer of brooms, given the cold weather.
Sirius was thrilled to see Harry, and somewhat resigned to the fact that Severus accompanied him. Fortunately, Remus had come north this weekend, so there was someone else present who would happily take on the role of peace-keeper, if necessary. After exchanging his usual snarl with Severus, Sirius folded Harry into a hug, planting a kiss on the top of his godson's head.
"Good to see you, Pronglet. I've missed you. But, I've been busy. We'll be open here by spring."
Remus greeted Severus with somewhat greater cordiality, but thought to ask the sensible question that had clearly eluded Sirius. "What brings you two north in the middle of the winter? And out of the wards at Hogwarts, with all that's going on?"
Severus nodded at Remus, pleased that someone had finally asked. "Given all that's going on, people have been clustering back in Hogwarts again. It's as full as it was over the summer. But with the cold weather, there is almost no venturing outside the castle. Frankly, the smell was starting to get to me."
Sirius snorted, and earned a glare from Harry (when had he mastered that very Potions-Master-like habit?). It just stopped him from making an impertinent observation about Severus' nose contributing to his overly-sensitive sense of smell.
"I proposed that we leave the castle for a day or two this weekend, and this was Harry's choice of location for our outing."
Remus looked very pleased at that answer. Severus was annoyed that he could not tell if the man was happy that they'd come for a visit, or that this was Harry's idea.
"Well, we have a few rooms that could be used here, if you need a place to stay," Sirius offered hopefully.
Harry quickly stepped in to correct that expectation. "Thanks, Sirius, but our compound is open and we'll be heading there. I just couldn't come up here and not stop in to see you."
That completely voided any anger in Sirius at the declined invitation, and he led the group off on a tour of the hotel. There were a few public areas that looked reasonably snug and comfortable, but Severus was taken aback at what could only be described as dormitories that seemed to be the sleeping quarters.
"Black, do you mean to tell me that this is what you are going to offer as overnight accommodations here?" Severus asked in what he felt was a neutral tone.
Apparently, Remus and Sirius had had a conversation about this themselves. Remus stepped in to carry the other side of the conversation with Severus.
"Well, this is the sort of accommodation that the Winter Lands people will be expecting. We visited several of the inns that operate in the larger compounds and visitor quarters all look like this. I gather that Alrik has urged Sirius to follow that pattern for his hotel."
Harry saw what was going on, and did not want all of this to fall on Severus' shoulders.
"Sirius, you really need to look at this compound as serving the needs of two groups of people. Yes, there will be lots of Winter Lands people who will want to stay over, and if the accommodations they are used to are dormitories like this, then you will want to have something to make them comfortable, of course." Sirius nodded his agreement.
"But there will be other visitors to the Winter Lands who will be staying here, right?" Harry went on. "They will be people like me, or Madam Bones from the Ministry." Harry had a vision of Mr. Malfoy in his mind, but wisely chose not to offer that example. "They are used to different accommodations. They will want private rooms. Many will expect suites, and I expect that some will resist shared bathrooms. You need to create an inn where they will feel comfortable, too."
Severus decided to explain something that apparently Sirius had not noticed, secretly very pleased that Harry apparently had. "Black, there are two different points of view among our Winter Lands allies. Asgeir Brand possibly remembers a very different world up here, and is anxious for there to be changes made that will enable this land to return to its remembered former glory. His son, and presumably a number of the younger men, do not remember anything different and are very suspicious of change. You will no doubt feel pressure from each faction. I think you should notice that it is the elders, the wiser men, who are encouraging change. Don't be swayed by the young ones who resist change, if you believe the change is going to be an improvement for the country."
Sirius faltered. That was a surprisingly civil statement from Snape, and he'd absolutely captured the pressures that had been put upon him over the past few months. He finally muttered, "There has been quite a bit of pressure to give visitors a real feeling of being in the Winter Lands."
"And you have the chance to do exactly that," Harry interjected. "What we are suggesting is just a small tweak to your plans for the market compound. By all means, create a real Winter Lands pub, or whatever they call the gathering halls. Serve at least some of the food from up here, and the drink. You might even offer the dormitories to visitors who want to try that. But recognize that there will be some who will expect certain creature comforts, and not be too adventurous. If they have business to do, or money to spend, in the Winter Lands, you want to make them feel welcome, too."
Remus joined the discussion with an observation. "Remember we had looked to recreate the great hall of Bifrost Hall, Sirius? Maybe that's the point at which the two types of accommodations meet? People can be comfortable up here, but they can experience some of the things that make the Winter Lands unique."
Sirius and Harry walked along to see the improvements and construction, and Severus cautiously followed along with Remus in tow. The wolf always had been the more . . . intelligent . . . . of the two, Severus thought, so while Sirius delivered a loud and expressive description of the things he was doing, Severus spoke quietly to Remus.
"This is a delicate political situation here, Lupin. But if Black does not prepare a true trading center for the Winter Lands in this compound, one that people will willingly visit, he dooms them to exploitation. This is their one chance to take their destiny into their own hands, and they must take it."
Remus looked at Severus with a look of amused surprise on his face. That statement was not particularly absurd, but coming from Severus Snape, it was laughable.
Actually, even Severus was surprised by what had just come out of his mouth. He quickly, if silently, attributed it to being in this most exceedingly Gryffindorish place, which was, no doubt, having some subtle impact on his mind. That must be it.
"Rather strong words there, Severus. But I see your point, and I happen to agree with you that it would at least be a terrible missed opportunity at least to not create a more cosmopolitan trading center. Sirius and I have discussed this before, but it seems that Alrik Brand always discourages him, as soon as I've gone back to London."
"I hope that Harry's encouragement, if not ours, will give him the backbone to stay with this direction," Severus agreed. "My sister might be able to help him create rooms that fit the Winter Lands look but meet the expectations of wizards with more traditional expectations. She might also know of some retailers that might want to take space here, if you at some point want to expand the market."
Remus was confused. "Why would we offer here things that could be gotten back home?"
"Cobblers to craft shoes and bags from skins purchased here? Tailors to make clothes from any fabrics that might be produced here? Maybe even a chef who cooks with only local ingredients?" Really, had these people no imagination whatsoever?
Within an hour, Severus and Harry were finally in front of their house, in the courtyard of their compound. While a significant amount of snow was accumulating out in the nearby fields, the charms in the compound enable them to stand on dry, if frozen, dirt. They had used side-along apparition, as Severus was comfortable apparating to a place he had been to only once before even if Harry was not so sure. Severus carried a large hamper pressed upon him by one of the women at Bifrost Hall, which seemed to be filled with enough food to feed an army for a week.
As they entered their house, Harry bounded into the kitchen with the hamper, and squealed in shock as he almost tripped over Dobby. "Harry Potter, I did not know when you and Professor Snape would arrive, but wanted your house to be ready. I can have your dinner ready whenever you want."
Harry was quite prepared to set a dinner time, and relieved that this was Dobby, who used their names, rather than some other house elf who used all the contrived titles for him and Severus, when Severus joined him in the kitchen.
Severus nodded at the little elf and agreed to dinner in two hours, when he stopped short. Something wasn't right. He surreptitiously slipped his wand into his hand. "How did you get in here," he asked the little creature silkily. "We have very extensive wards on this house, and they should just admit Harry and me."
Dobby smiled calmly at Severus, aware that the wizard now held his wand, but not worried. "Professor Snape, an elf is always being able to get right through wards. How else is we to take care of our houses and the wizards who live in them?"
Severus was nonplussed, but as he thought about it, he had to admit that did seem to be the case. House elves apparated into and all over Hogwarts, despite anti-apparition wards that kept out even the most powerful wizards. He knew that Dobby had apparated freely into and out of Malfoy Manor back when he belonged to the Malfoy family, and that manor had some of the strongest wards in England. Given the near-paranoia right now over security, how in Merlin's name did anyone not realize that house elves were utterly unaffected by wards and able to travel freely?
The answer to that, he realized, as he watched his bondmate carry on a conversation with the little elf about what they would be having for dinner, was that no one paid any attention to the little things. No one but Harry and Albus, that is. And now, maybe Severus.
Harry followed Severus into the lab, and through to the greenhouse, and watched as the older man inspected the plants and checked some of the cuttings given to him by Tante. "It does smell good in here, doesn't it?" Harry asked, taking a greedy breath. There was fresh air in here, brisk more than cold, and the smell, as improbably as it seemed this far north, of flowers.
"My stasis charms held – everything is fine. A few of the plants even seem to have managed to flower." Severus also took a deep breath and smiled at Harry. "How nice not to be assaulted by the rancid smells of an over-stuffed castle! This alone makes a wonderful vacation."
Severus puttered (Harry's word, not Severus') around in his greenhouse, moving a few cuttings into pots of their own, taking cuttings of some plants that he would bring back with him to Hogwarts, and selecting a handful of vials of various tinctures given him by Tante to bring back, as well. Harry sniffed at a few plants but lost interest rather quickly. He retreated back through the lab, which also held minimal attraction for him, and settled eventually in front of the roaring fire in the hall.
After dinner (Harry's favorite beef and Yorkshire pudding, Brussels sprouts, and a pudding), Severus joined him for a while on the sofa in front of the fire.
"Do you think Sirius is going to listen to us?" Harry asked. He'd been thinking about all the pride Sirius showed in the compound he was building, and hoping that the suggestions he and Severus had made were not going to upset him.
"His wolf told me that he had offered similar suggestions, but every time he returned to London, Alrik would get Sirius' ear, and convince him to return to the very rustic approach. I am hopeful that your input, as well as Lupin's, will keep him on the right path. I also suggested my sister might be an ally." Severus initially chose to omit any reference to the odd words that he found himself using when describing the consequences. It was likely the result of too much brandy that he eventually added, "I felt quite strongly myself that this is a crossroads for the Winter Lands, and failing to exploit this opportunity would wreak grievous havoc on this place for a long time to come."
Harry gave Severus a searching look. That did not sound like Severus, but there was nothing self-conscious about the way he said it. Another "insight"? Wouldn't that be interesting. And now that they realized that Severus' insights were to be taken at their word, it was even more important that Sirius make some changes in his plans for the market compound. They'd have to stay close to this project, to be sure Alrik did not derail it.
Finally, Harry allowed Severus to take his hand and lead him up to the bedroom above. Dobby had apparently been here as well, as a fire already burned brightly in the grate, and the room was surprisingly warm and cozy, despite a wild wind whipping snow past the windows. Even the tub was filled with steaming water, waiting for them.
They settled into the enveloping warmth, with Severus allowing Harry to float in the bubbles before him. Eventually, talk ceased and emotions took control. The lovemaking was slow and consuming, and both men were starting to wrinkle before they finally stood and began the arousing process of drying each other off before moving into the bed. The bed was easily as soft and comfortable as the water had been, with charms presumably warming the blankets. Sleep came quickly and easily for both.
Several hours later, Severus awoke with the need to use the bathroom. He found a small blanket at the foot of the bed, and wrapped it around himself to ward off the chill. On his way back to bed, he stopped at the window to see what the weather was doing. The wind was still strong, and likely bitterly cold, but the snow seemed to have stopped. From the upper windows of the house, he could see over the fence into the forest, and was puzzled to see some light a short distance off. He pulled his blanket/robe about him more closely, wondering if he and Harry enjoyed the degree of privacy that they thought they had here. He peered at the light, trying to gauge distance and possible source, so he could make a proper complaint to Asgeir Brand. He finally realized that was not man-made light – there were some magical forsythia plants growing some distance away. No doubt, some of the odd microclimates created by the thermal heat and the odd pockets of shelter in the craggy land enabled the plants to grow and even bloom at the oddest of times. He stood and marveled at the persistence of nature, to find a way to make light even on the darkest of days. Light and dark. Making darkness when there should be light.
A smile played across Severus' face as he realized what Harry's latest visions were suggesting.
Harry was still in the bathroom when Severus went down to the kitchen to see about breakfast. Apparently his words about privacy had been taken to heart by the little house elf, as there was no one there. A pot of tea was brewed and waiting for them, however, and the hamper he'd brought in from Bifrost Hall had been unpacked onto the large table. There were fixings for breakfast sandwiches, cheeses and some fruit. Severus served himself, and settled in with a potions journal. Likewise, when Harry bounded downstairs a few minutes later, he exclaimed happily over the choices on offer and prepared a plate for himself.
"It sounded like the wind kept up overnight. Have you looked outside – is it still snowing?" Harry asked.
"The snow did stop at some point last night, and it isn't snowing now. But the wind is still rather strong, and I expect it's still bitterly cold. I was thinking it might make better sense to take one of the portkeys directly from here back to Hogwarts later and not go back by way of Bifrost Hall," Severus ventured. While in transit with a portkey, they would be protected from the weather. Stopping at Bifrost Hall, even using portkeys to make the trip, yielded just another period of time spent in the bitter cold up here.
Harry nodded, and returned his attention to the extremely large bacon sandwich he had created for himself.
As lunchtime arrived, Harry left his perch in front of the fire, where he was finishing up a Transfiguration essay, to scout out what was available in the kitchen. Dobby was still gone, but he found more food in the cupboards, kept both cold and hot. Severus joined him from his lab, and they were just finishing up when Dobby popped into sight.
"Oh, sirs, Dobby is so glad to find you still here! Terrible things is happening, terrible!" The little elf worried his toga in his hands, and his big ears flopped in agitation. "Mr. Professor Dumbledore is very upset, very worried about you two. But I told him I could get to you, and bring you a message. The bad people have blown up the floo network back home. The Ministry has shut it down completely. Witches and wizards cannot travel. The Ministry also said that no one may use portkeys until they have been checked. Mr. Professor Dumbledore is very upset that you both are up here and now cannot travel back."
Severus had tensed up completely at the scant information that the elf had provided. The bad people – likely Death Eaters. Was this a plot, a precursor to an attack? Why had the ravens not foreshadowed this to Harry, or why had he not perceived this himself? Had they been shown or sensed something that they could not interpret? And how devastating was the sabotage? Is the system destroyed, or just disrupted? And why would someone do this on a Sunday afternoon, when in a few hours, on Monday morning, traffic in the floo network would be so much heavier?
Harry had apparently paid attention to the conversation about elf magic the day before (would surprises never cease) and thought to ask, "Dobby, how did you get here just now? Did you take a portkey from Hogwarts?"
Dobby looked at him worshipfully, always so pleased when Harry called him by name. "Oh, no sir, elfs has no need of portkeys, or floos. Elf magic lets us apparate wherever we needs to be. "
"Can you bring us back the same way you got here?" Severus asked.
Dobby looked surprised at the question, but shrugged. "Of course, sir. Elfs can bring wizards with them, although most elfs would never think to offer. I can bring you back to Hogwarts. Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"
After a quick trip through the house to be sure they were returning with everything that they brought and the few things Severus had wanted to bring back with him from the greenhouse, the two wizards stood in the kitchen of their Winter Lands house and Dobby took their hands. Each blinked for just a second, and when they opened their eyes, they were standing in their own rooms back at Hogwarts.
Severus was quick to suggest that they go up to the Headmaster's office immediately, to assure him of their safety and find out what was going on. Harry was thinking the same thing, and they looked uncertainly at the floo in their rooms.
"Until we understand what happened, leave that." Severus checked the wards he always kept on his floo, and verified that they had not been breached, and added a few extra just in case, as he joined Harry for a hurried walk through the castle.
[A/N: Thanks to those of you who have been kind enough to leave a comment or review as you've read. I really do appreciate each one. Several people have asked me how much longer this story is going to be. I'm not entirely certain, but figure maybe four or five more chapters. I'm nearly there. I know there has been a real slow-down in getting chapters up. Real life threw me a curveball, and I'm just trying to get myself together; I'm hopeful that with the end of the story in sight, the words will flow faster now.
Apropos of all the trebuchets and siege engines in this story, I thought I'd mention a show on the Science Channel here in the US – Punkin Chunkin. It's about a competition in which people use all sorts of homemade trebuchets and hurling devices (referred to as "pumpkin machines") to throw pumpkins, rather than rocks or boulders, as far as possible. There is a competition to see who gets the pumpkins the farthest. Happy Halloween to you all!]