A/N: Welcome, welcome! We get a little angsty with Harry in this one. I hope you enjoy. If you do, please, leave a review. Thanks so much! See you again!

Chapter 10

"So, you think because you can see the creation of the horcruxes, you'll be able to see more of Halloween?" Draco asked as they settled themselves on the cushions on the floor of the den-like room the Room of Requirement had given them.

"Makes sense, doesn't it?" Harry said, crossing his legs to be more comfortable. "I'm a horcrux so, theoretically, I should be able to see how it—I—was created. I shouldn't be stuck with the little memory I have because the horcrux has its own memory."

"Didn't you tell Severus you wouldn't do any horcrux hunting on your own?" Draco said, arching an eyebrow.

"One, I'm not alone, you're here, and two, I'm not hunting. We know exactly where this horcrux is and I'm just trying to see its memory," Harry justified and Draco rolled his eyes.

"There is not a single person that will accept either of those as good excuses," Draco told him. "Harry, I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"I'm not really doing anything. I'm just meditating," Harry replied with a small shrug.

"No, you are meditating to find memories that aren't yours, memories that belong to a thing that you know is killing you," Draco argued.

"It'll be fine," Harry said dismissively. "You're here if anything goes wrong."

Draco scowled at him. "If by some miracle no one kills you for this, I will. This is stupid and you know it is."

Harry rolled his own eyes before letting them close and beginning the rhythmic breathing Severus had taught him for meditative Occlumency. His body grew heavy as he drifted into his mind, then to his subconscious, then to his unconscious. He was deep within himself; he could feel it.

Keeping his breathing even, he began to think about Halloween of 1981 while pulling at his magic to drift around, ready and accessible. For some time, he only felt his magic swimming around lazily and heard the distant echoes of what he remembered from that night in his unconscious. When nothing else happened, he decided to move back to his subconscious, thinking that now that the horcrux was active, its memories could exist alongside his; it wasn't lurking in the recesses anymore.

So, in his subconscious, he reached for the memory of Halloween again and let his magic float around. Again, for what seemed like a long time, nothing happened except he watched his memory over and over, hearing Voldemort shout, "Avada Kedavra!" and cackle before screaming as the green light blinded him. It was all he'd ever been able to remember. He saw it happen again and again and again and…

Then, something changed.

Something began tugging at his magic, pulling it in all directions. As it stretched, it felt as though it was wrapped around him and tightening with every tug, restricting the expansion of his lungs ever so slightly. Despite the gradual restriction, it didn't take long for his chest to begin burning, but he pushed through it to focus on the way his memory was flickering. As the green light of the Killing Curse consumed his memory once more, the scene faded away before it returned…different.

Instead of starting with the casting of the curse, it started with a door opening. The house was dark, the only sound a muffled crying. Moving through the house, James Potter was spotted on the floor, eyes empty as they stared up at the ceiling. The man was already dead.

The scene continued up the stairs, the sobbing and whimpering growing louder. The door to the nursery opened, revealing the scene behind. Like James, Lily Potter was sprawled on the floor before the crib already dead. One-year-old Harry was in the crib, crying loudly.

"Cowards," came the disgusted voice of Voldemort. "This is the way it must be, dear Harry. It is for the best. I must live and you will never know what they did to you."

Harry gasped for air as his heart pounded painfully as he listened.

"You will never know the life of abandonment, never know the feeling of never feeling loved. You will not live my life."

The memory began to flicker.

"I will be what they've made me. Goodbye, dear Harry," Voldemort said and raised his wand to baby Harry. "Avada Kedavra!"

As in his own memory, the green light engulfed everything only, through it, Harry could see something else happening. He couldn't make it out, however, and the memory faded as his magic began crashing over and around him in harsh waves. Pain hit him with every wave and he fought desperately to breathe. A dark mist surrounded him, taking place of the memory. As it swirled, vague shapes and colours drifted in and out of view: the Gaunt family crest, shimmering green scales, a glittering blue gem in a teardrop shape, a flash of a partial golden disk, a silver chain…

He left his mind and was back in the Room of Requirement where he found he was able to breathe again, but he was also seizing from the magic and pain wracking his body. His writhing didn't last more than a minute, leaving him exhausted on the floor and Draco hurrying to his side, looking worried.

"I'm okay," Harry muttered.

"Not sure I'd go that far," Draco countered, using the bottom of his robe to wipe at Harry's forehead. "You're bleeding."

Harry sighed and pushed Draco away, struggling to sit up. "I saw it. I saw what Voldemort saw."

"And?"

"They were already dead before he got there," Harry told him. "Voldemort didn't kill them. They didn't…they didn't die for me. They didn't die at all."

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured sympathetically and Harry ran a hand through his hair, distressed. "Did you see anything else?"

"I think I saw the horcruxes. Mine used my magic to be strong enough to show its memory and then I think it reached for the others, gave them some of my magic which let me see them at least a little." Harry massaged his forehead with a wince at the residual ache.

"You should tell Severus," Draco said.

Harry shook his head. "There's no reason he needs to know."

"Harry, you were bleeding and seizing," Draco argued. "You helped the horcrux take more of your magic than it already was and strengthen its connection to the others. We have no idea what that could do to you."

Harry gave Draco a small glare. "You can't tell him."

"He doesn't have to."

Harry spun around at Severus' voice and groaned at the angry, disapproving look on the man's face. He glanced at Draco who looked back at him sympathetically again and they both climbed to their feet. When Harry stumbled a couple steps upon standing, he saw the way Severus' eyes became glued to him and narrowed with concern. Side by side with Draco, they walked from the Room of Requirement, Severus following close behind.

"To the Great Hall, Draco," Severus ordered once they were in the corridor. "Harry, come with me."

Sharing another look, Draco walked away down one corridor while Harry was guided down another. They were silent as they headed to the dungeons, the silence heavy. It seemed all of their silences were heavy lately, fraught with everything just waiting to destroy them. Not that his life had ever been simple, but Severus had made it seem that way and Harry desperately wanted to go back to those days.

Severus held the door open to his quarters, letting Harry enter before him. Harry expected the lecture to begin immediately, but was both surprised and confused when his father walked around him to the lavatory. The man wasn't in there long, returning in seconds with a vial and a cloth. Harry sighed, taking the Headache Reliever and just accepting the damp cloth wiping across his forehead and down the side of his nose. The silence continued through the ministrations, making Harry's discomfort steadily increase though with what underlying emotion, he wasn't sure. Regardless of his bubbling emotions, he couldn't stop himself from smiling ever so slightly when Severus gently swiped a thumb across his cheek, catching a drop of water from the cloth.

"Now," Severus began, banishing the cloth, and Harry held back another sigh. "I seem to recall you agreeing to do nothing intentionally regarding the horcruxes on your own."

"I wasn't alone," Harry pointed out and Severus' eyes narrowed at him.

"You do not get to act dumb and pretend Draco is adequate support or what I meant."

Harry fought not to roll his eyes. "Why isn't he? He's my best friend, he knows more about at least Dark Magic than any of my other friends, and he would never let anything happen to me."

"Only to the extent there is anything he can do!" Severus argued, his voice rising. "He cannot help you with a horcrux!"

"And you can?" Harry snapped, the unknown underlying emotion making itself known. Severus looked at him, clearly taken aback. "Face it, Dad, you wouldn't be able to do anything more than Draco could. This thing is killing me no matter what and no one can do anything about it."

"That does not mean you get to play with your life!"

"Everyone else has!" Harry shouted, stunned to feel tears burning his eyes. "My life has been nothing but a goddamn game to everyone! Everyone's decided what I do, where I go, who I am, what I am, when I die! If I'm nothing but a bloody game piece, I want to choose my moves!"

Harry stared hard at Severus, the man saying nothing, but his eyes shining with emotion. Harry suddenly felt exhausted and turned away from his father, walking over to fall heavily on the sofa. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned on his knees, staring at his clasped hands. A few moments later, the sofa dipped as Severus sat next to him.

"I should have realized how much this has all been affecting you," Severus said, all traces of anger replaced with regret.

Harry turned to him. "Don't do that. It's affected you too."

"You are who I should be taking care of."

"You do," Harry insisted. "Dad, you have to take care of yourself too and, honestly, I didn't think it was all affecting me that much. You already worry so much, you shouldn't have to about this too."

"Regardless, I should have realized you needed more from me," Severus said.

Harry smiled. "I don't think it's possible for you to give me more."

Severus brushed back his hair and tugged him closer to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Talk to me. How are you feeling about everything?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry said honestly. "Nothing and everything all at once. It's all been a bit much to even really understand."

Severus looked at him sympathetically.

"It's partly why I wanted—needed—to try and see," Harry told him. "I needed to know."

"What did you see?" Severus asked gently.

Harry felt his eyes sting again. "It didn't prove all of Kingsley's theory, but enough. They were already dead before Voldemort got there. They didn't die for me. They didn't die at all."

Severus didn't respond. He just wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and he was tugged to his father's side. He ended up resting against Severus' chest as they leaned back into the sofa.

"Draco thinks they knew the whole prophecy and they set it all up. They set me up to die," Harry mumbled into Severus' chest. "I didn't mean anything to them."

Severus' arms tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer. "We will find out the truth and no matter what we find, always know that you mean everything to me."

And he did know. He knew this man who had chosen him would do everything they were supposed to do.

"Sorry to interrupt."

Harry looked up, finding Kingsley closing the door behind him as he slipped into the quarters. Harry sat up from Severus' chest as Kingsley sat in the adjacent chair though he remained pressed to his father's side, Severus' arm still draped down his back and side.

"Anything to drink?" Severus offered.

"After this, probably," Kingsley replied gravely, pulling a folder and a large, black, leather bound book from inside his cloak.

"You found something," Severus said bluntly and Kingsley nodded, holding out the folder. Severus took it and opened it in his lap with his right hand, keeping his left around Harry. "Marina Ariadne's file."

"Turns out, she's dead and her file was buried," Kingsley told them.

"Dead?" Severus repeated. "What happened?"

"The 'official' report says K.I.A," Kingsley said, tone dripping with knowing skepticism.

Harry glanced at Severus, seeing the raised eyebrow that matched his godfather's tone.

"She was an Unspeakable. What action would she have seen in nineteen eighty-one?" Severus questioned, reading from the file. "December thirty-first, nineteen eighty-one?"

"The day before Ethan Grey left the Ministry and two weeks after the Potter investigation officially closed," Kingsley said, confirming the question that wasn't asked. "The real report was hidden in there beneath layers of enchantments. It says her body was found in the Department of Mysteries. Killing Curse. There was a letter in her pocket. Unfortunately, it seems to have been destroyed and no copies were made, but there are indications it may have been a confession."

"Why would she confess?" Severus asked. "They all got away with it."

"Guilt, I would assume," Kingsley said. "Also this." He handed the black book to Severus.

"A sign-in ledger?" Severus inquired as he opened the cover.

"For Mysteries," Kingsley said. "It magically records every person that enters the department by their magical signature. Turn to page eight hundred twenty-six."

Severus did so and Harry leaned forward to see what his godfather wanted them to see. He scanned the dozens of names and dates, trying to find any of significance. As he did, he noticed the right page looked different. While the other pages were parchment coloured, the right page was grey and had what looked like smears of ash. It almost looked like someone had tried to burn the page, but only smoke and ash had touched it.

Then he saw the entry and his heart constricted painfully while Severus' arm tensed around him.

31-10-1980 - - James Potter, Lily Evans, Harry Potter - - Unspeakable Escort: Marina Ariadne

"Draco was right," Harry muttered aloud without realizing.

"What was that, kid?" Kingsley asked.

"Just…the other day, we were all talking, wondering why my parents would've…if it was true…why they…" Harry trailed off, unable to voice it again. "Draco said maybe they'd brought me to the Ministry and they heard the whole prophecy so they decided to…"

Severus squeezed him, holding him close, trying to offer any kind of consolation.

Kingsley sighed. "Seems that's what happened. Unfortunately, there's no way to know why she helped with the setup or cover-up. There's records in her file that show what she helped with, primarily access to the prophecy, but Unspeakables' wands are also scanned every month and there are records showing that her wand cast spells related to signature manipulation and forgery. Someone also obviously tried to destroy that page, but the ledger is charmed to be indestructible. My guess is Grey found out she was going to confess and he killed her before taking off. After the Ministry, there are absolutely no records on Ethan Grey or Elias Moreshire in Britain until Grey comes to Hogwarts."

Harry found himself unable to hear anymore. He pushed away from his father, jumped to his feet, and hurried to his room. Slamming the door behind him despite knowing Severus hated door slamming, Harry stood in the centre of his room, trying to control his quickening breathing and dampening eyes. Everything was spinning out of control and pressure was building in his chest. His teary, blurry eyes darted around wildly.

It was a lie.

It had all been a lie.

Everything was a lie.

His entire life was a damn lie.

Harry's hands slid into his hair, gripped tight, and he let out a piercing, anguished scream. Tears poured hot down his cheeks. His throat stung from the strain. His heart throbbed as it struggled against the painful squeezing.

"Harry?"

He turned around at the voice, hands dropping from his hair, and found Severus watching him with deep worry.

"They left me," Harry whispered. "They left me."

Severus walked towards him slowly, looking as pained as Harry felt.

"They…they chose to…" Harry choked on the words.

"Harry." Severus reached out to him carefully as though afraid to startle him.

"They left me," Harry repeated, finding his voice rising with the agony. "They left me."

"I know," Severus said quietly, still reaching for him.

Harry started to shake his head, needing to deny the truth even as he spoke it. "They…left…me."

"Harry…"

Severus' fingers brushing his arm broke the thin, tenuous thread that had been the last holding to his fragile control. He exploded, hitting his fists hard against his father's chest as tears poured from his eyes and sobs from his mouth as he screamed.

"They left me to die! They left me to die! They left me to die!"

Severus' hands came to wrap around his forearms, but he did nothing to stop Harry's assault.

"I know."

"I…I was their son! I was a baby! I was their baby and they left me to die!" Harry cried, his hits slowing as his sobs grew harder.

"I know."

Harry's fists landed against Severus' chest again, but, this time, they didn't leave. Instead, he grasped handfuls of Severus' shirt and let his forehead fall against his father's chest. Severus' arm wrapped around him, pulling him into the warmth and comfort and safety that the man had come to be since he was ten…after a life without…because his parents had…

"Everything was a lie," Harry whispered despairingly into Severus' chest. "Nothing was real. Nothing…none of it was real."

"This is real," Severus murmured back. "You are my son and I love you. That is real."

Harry couldn't say anything else as his world shattered around him. He just sobbed into his father's chest as the man held him tightly, an arm around his shoulders and a hand resting on the back of his head while lips were pressed to his hair, murmuring to him in a desperate attempt to comfort him.

The wind whistled as it blew across the windows, the precursor to a coming winter storm. In his bed concealed by the red drapes, Harry sat propped against his pillows with a sketchbook against his legs, the Marauder's Map hovering in front of him, and a small orb of blue light floating next to him. He listened to the harsh wind as he sketched, eyes periodically flicking to the map to track the nametag that was constantly fading and flickering between two names.

He sighed as the Grey-Moreshire name repeated its pacing path in the man's private quarters and turned back to his sketches. He hadn't seen much of the other horcruxes that day in the Room of Requirement, but he'd been unable to stop thinking about what he did see. So, to distract himself from the suffocating despair he'd felt for the last two weeks, he'd begun to sketch the little he'd seen.

There had been no further progress on the Potter-Halloween mystery or, if there had, he hadn't listened. He hadn't wanted to know anything more. Knowing his own parents had likely left him to die was enough. He'd chosen to, instead, pretend he knew nothing and focused on school and the horcruxes, having had the dream about the ring horcrux a couple more times and Dumbledore telling his father and godfathers that he was arranging an Order mission to Little Hangleton. It had been a long evening conversation with his father and godfathers over the fact that Dumbledore wanted Harry to join the mission as it was believed Harry would be able to sense and find the horcrux.

Harry added definition to the partial golden disk he'd seen, glancing at the map again only to freeze in sketching as he found Grey on the move. He watched the footprints with its flag move through the castle, heading quickly down from the Defence tower to the Clock Tower Courtyard. Harry sat up fully, pushing his sketchbook off his lap and staring at Grey's moving name. it was strange for Grey to be going outside considering it was two a.m.

When Grey exited the courtyard and crossed the grounds with the Forbidden Forest his clear destination, Harry frowned as he contemplated what to do. He knew the rules he'd be breaking, the danger he could be in, the trouble he'd face when Severus found out—because, yes, there was no 'if'; it was guaranteed his father would know—but he felt the need to follow Grey. He'd taken some time to ignore the disintegration of everything he'd thought he knew, but seeing Grey going to the forest again reignited his need to know. Grey was involved and he needed to know how, he needed to know why. And, if he was honest, it wasn't just for him. He needed to know for Remus, for Sirius, for Severus. He needed to know for his family because he couldn't watch the torment they were in anymore.

If he caught Grey in the middle of something, maybe he could make the man confess.

Sending a silent apology to his father, Harry grabbed the map and his wand and climbed quietly out of bed. The rest of the dorm was asleep and he moved as quietly as possible to slip on his shoes and pull his invisibility cloak from his trunk before tiptoeing from the dorm. Throwing the cloak over himself, he left the common room and hurried through the castle, eyes glued to Grey's name making its way through the forest.

Stepping outside, Harry had to grasp the cloak to keep it around him and his fingers tightened on the map as the wintery wind whipped around him. He jogged the same path Grey had taken and entered the Forbidden Forest for the seemingly umpteenth time in the last four years. Grey's name had stopped moving and was with two other sets of footprints, except they had no name tags.

Frowning and his heart pounding, Harry headed directly for the triad of footprints, ducking branches and stepping over roots as wind howled through the trees around him. When he was just steps from the others, he stopped and looked up at the tree branches blocking the way. Through the deafening wind, Harry was just able to make out muffled voices. He stepped closer until they were clearer, hearing a single word that made him step through the tree branches.

"…horcrux…"

Harry burst through the trees and pulled off the cloak, heart beating painfully as he stared at the surprised and angry faces of Grey, Lily, and James as they turned to gaze at him just as snow began to fall.