Chapter 8
Severus was
not a happy camper.
He had spent
the last eighteen years trying to keep himself sane, and then the Potter brat -
yet again - had to go and mess it up again. It certainly didn't help that
Potter had started looking like his Harry more and more each day, sinking
Severus further into the grief he had never truly let go of.
He could
still remember that first day he had seen Potter. At eleven, his eyes had shone
a brilliant green that had taken him back fifteen years ago to another Harry
when they had first met.
He was tired.
Tired of teaching brats who didn't want to learn. Tired of dealing with idiots
like Black and Potter and having Albus on his back.
He was tired
of life.
The only
thing that kept him going was the thought that he couldn't give up the search
for the potion that would free *his* Harry. Severus had kept his body alive all
of these years in the hopes that he would be able to bring him back from the
land of the dead. As long as there was some kind of connection between it and
his soul, there was still a chance that Harry would come back to him.
He knew that
the students thought him a greasy git who only took pleasure in taking points
from any other house but his own. They wouldn't even care to know that his hair
was greasy for the simple reason that he was looking for the ultimate potion.
The research required hours spent over a boiling cauldron, searching for the
right ingredients that more often than not blew up in his face. Taking
points... they were just a way to relieve his frustration about the entire
situation, especially when taken from Potter.
Severus
sipped at his glass of scotch, trying to clear his mind.
Today, Potter
had looked so much like his Harry during potions - at least the way his face
had been set with determination when he'd been defending Granger and Weasley
from Draco. Plus, it was almost Halloween, and after all these years, losing
Harry still hurt. He was tempted to just go and look, but Severus knew that
he'd just be there all night, and he couldn't afford that at the moment.
All of this
would throw Severus into a depressed state, bogging his mind down in memories
of happier days - days when he would come home after some awful mission for
Albus or Voldemort and Harry would be sitting at the table with a wonderful
meal and a willing ear. Then they would sit on the sofa and either listen to
the wireless or read to each other, taking comfort in just being next to each
other. As the moon crept through the sky, they would then head to their bed and
make love, only to fall asleep with their arms entwined around each other.
Severus shook
his head. No, he couldn't let himself think about those wonderful times right
now. He had too much riding on what was happening in present time to think about
the past. He needed to find something to help in the present and even the
future.
It was just
too hard watching Harry. His body may be kept alive with various nutritional
potions, but they couldn't get rid of the paper-thin skin and shrunken
cheekbones. Every once in a while, a spark would dance across the exposed skin,
stopping everyone except Severus from touching him for any long period of time.
Even in the state he was in, Harry was still the Lightning Child that the
Sorting Hat had proclaimed him to be.
There had
been odd points when the lightning would increase dramatically, but as there
was no pattern to it, Severus wasn't sure what was causing it. The only
noticeable time was Halloween, and the reaction had been growing each year.
So, no matter
what Severus said, Albus wanted him down here watching over Harry on Halloween.
The headmaster didn't want to take the chance of Harry tripping the wards by
accident when the lightning spread across the rooms. It was too dangerous for
him to be left unattended with the atmosphere outside of Hogwarts.
Fudge had
refused to acknowledge Voldemort's return until his last day in office, and it
had helped Voldemort's cause. Even though the Minister hadn't been a supporter,
his inability to see what was happening in front of his eyes turned out to be
his downfall.
Severus had
hated the Minister from the second he had risen to that office. It had been
only two months after Voldemort's attack on Hogwarts that he'd come into office
after Minister Parks had been ambushed by several Death Eaters on his way home
from a late night meeting with the French Minister of Magic.
The first
thing that he had done was having Lucius Malfoy raised to a higher level within
the Ministry by way of recommendation - to the Board of Governors of Hogwarts.
What he hadn't known at the time was that the men who had suggested Malfoy for
his new job had been among the first Death Eaters Voldemort had recruited
almost twenty years before. The second thing he had done was to place restrictions
on what teachers and students could do if Hogwarts was ever attacked.
Luckily, he
had never done a thorough tour of the school. If he had, Severus would have
definitely been thrown into Azkaban for keeping Harry in his rooms in the
attempts to bring him back to life. Only last year, when they had gone through
all of the items that Barty Crouch, Jr. had collected during his stint as
Alastair Moody, had they found the Marauder's Map. Severus had looked at it and
had been torn in two by what he had seen. The dot that represented Harry was
the faintest gray, and only named him as "H." No full name, but it
showed he was still alive, if only the tiniest bit. He counted himself lucky,
though, that the Weasley boys and Potter had never investigated what that dot
had meant while they were in possession of the map. And if Crouch ever figured
it out, he had never told anybody. He may have searched Severus' rooms under
false pretences, but Severus had made sure that Harry had been safely away from
them. He'd had the feeling the Moody would be going through every teacher's
offices and rooms, and more specifically Severus', and had Harry moved up to
the hospital wing to be looked over by Poppy for a couple of days. It had been
just after Halloween and time for his yearly 'check-up,' so it hadn't looked
strange to the nurse, so Severus had escaped detection on all sides.
Severus went
to take another sip and found his glass empty. Instead of going to pour himself
another, he rose and went into his bedroom, wondering just if his bed would
ever be warm again.
******
James and
Lily looked at Harry.
"It's
time, isn't it," James said.
Harry nodded.
"You both knew this was coming," he responded to the non-question.
"I have to go back now. Otherwise, who knows what will happen if I
don't."
The elder
Potters didn't look comfortable with losing their son again, but Harry had to
get back to Severus. He wanted - no, needed - to be with the other man. This
time, when it was all over, he was bonding with Sev so that everything that had
happened wouldn't repeat.
Sometimes is
sucked, having half a soul.
When that
curse hit him all those years ago, his soul had split into two. It had taken
him years to figure out why that had happened - why part of his soul had stayed
on the mortal plane to be born as Harry James Potter exactly nine months from
that Halloween, and the rest was in the other realm.
One of the
guides that were a part of the other realm, and who had never existed on the
mortal plane, had tried to explain just why Harry's soul had split. Sometimes
when a person meets their soul mate, if they are killed before they bond, they
will be reborn immediately so that they will eventually meet with their
intended for the bonding to finally take place. Even if that happened, there
was still a little piece of his soul that had lived on in his 'original' body
that kept Severus' soul whole. Harry had worried over its existence, until his
mother had pointed out that Severus would have given up on life a long time ago
if he hadn't kept searching for the miracle that would bring Harry back to him.
So Harry had ruminated over the subject for a while before deciding he wouldn't
worry about it.
While it was
technically the land of the dead, there were some souls like his that still had
a living body on the mortal plane. Neville's parents were also here with that
problem. As long as their bodies were still alive, a small part of their soul
was locked in them. It was the reason why Neville went to see them in St.
Mungo's every holiday from Hogwarts.
Harry's case,
though, was different. If his body died, the other half of his soul would
return to the other-realm and time would stop. Or rather, if both bodies died,
it would stop.
Time was a
tricky bitch, sometimes.
Harry's soul
had been looped through time, being born into the almost grown body of Harry
Potter before being split into a newly conceived fetus and a shade in the other
realm with the barest hint of contact to the mortal plane through his previous
body. When the time came for Voldemort to cast the banishing curse that would
send Harry Potter back twenty years, the pieces of his soul would reunite in
the body of Harry this time.
Harry had
gotten the worse headache figuring that out. At that point, he had wished
Hermione had been there to figure it out, since it was the time turner that she
had gotten in third year that had triggered his search for the truth about why
all of this was happening this way. Come to think of it, he still got headaches
when he thought of it.
The gist of
it was that when his soul was finally back together in one piece, they would
join in the body that Severus had kept alive in his chambers. It was his true
body - the body he would have had if the whole thing had been normal.
As if
anything Harry touched could ever be considered normal, but that was beside the
point.
Harry
Potter's remarkable resemblance to James Potter was because of his half-soul -
the part that was most like his biological father - was the reason. Brave,
curious, and willing to spend any amount of time on anything not schoolwork, it
was the reason why the Sorting Hat had only offered Slytherin and Gryffindor.
When his soul
was as complete as it could get without being bonded to Severus' he would take
his true physical form: a blend of both James and Lily Potter. That was why no
one had known who he was when eleven year old Harry Potter stepped foot into
Hogwarts, and why he wasn't connected to the other Harry whom he'd been named
for. All because of when Lily had given birth to him, he'd already looked like
James.
Harry had
always wondered just why his eyes had been green, when Muggle biology had
taught him that brown eyes took precedence over green. His green eyes had been
that little part of Lily - her understanding and ability to use what
information she had to get around things that weren't important - that had been
in both parts of his soul.
A hand rested
on his shoulder, and Harry reached up to rest his own on it. He looked up to
see his mother watching him with a concerned look.
"I know
I can't stop you from doing what you think is right, Harry," she said in a
low voice. "I just want you to know that no matter what you do, we will
support you. Time has tempered our ideas of just who Snape really is, and
although your father may never truly love him, he is willing to do whatever is
necessary to help you."
"What
about you?" Harry had to ask.
Lily smiled.
"A mother has a special link with her child, no matter how far away they
may be. When we first met you, I felt a link with you that I didn't understand
at the time. Now, I know what it is, and there will always be that link between
us. I love you, and I love Severus for the simple reason that you love him."
Harry gave a
wry grin. "Yes, I do love him. I just hope that he will love me for who I
am after everything is over."
James
frowned, but came over to stand behind Lily. "Don't let anyone stand in
your way, Harry. I know that you will have problems, especially with Sirius,
but let them know what is going on. Besides, you can tell Sirius that you know
his little secret. That will shut him up."
Lily slapped
James on the arm. "I hope you're not suggesting Harry blackmail his own
godfather. Hmm?"
James winked
at Harry, who was grinning.
Sometimes it
felt so strange to have any kind of conversation with his parents. He had been
waiting for something to happen for such a long time after he had gotten here,
and then everything had seemed to explode around him. From the moment Harry
Potter was born on the mortal plane, Harry had remembered everything that would
happen to that other part of his soul. From that point, he had been both
dreading and excitedly waiting for his parents to arrive. Harry had wished that
there might be some way he would be able to manipulate the mortal plane from
the other realm so that he - Harry Potter - would be able to grow up with his
parents. Then had come the realization that if he had done anything to swerve
time from that path, that Voldemort would have continued to wreck havoc over
England and would have soon spread across Europe, and then over the Atlantic to
the States and Canada.
Instead,
Harry had to watch, this time from a different perspective, as first James and
then Lily Potter killed by Voldemort. When the Dark Lord had attempted to kill
Harry Potter, the other realm Harry had felt a strong pull before tugging hard
on whatever was on the other end. By doing so, he had snapped the power of the
killing curse back to Voldemort. When he did so, however, it lost some of its
power, and instead of killing Voldemort, reduced what was left of his soul and
released it from a physical body. It still being in the mortal plane had just
meant that someday he would be able to gain back a body.
Harry had
known all of this and had been powerless to stop it. In the other realm he had
all the knowledge of using the power, but it was tied up with the physical body
the other half of his soul possessed.
And while he
was here in the other realm, he had learned even more. Great teachers from
different times, including several of his own ancestors, had taught Harry
everything he needed to know to finally rid the mortal plane of Voldemort once
and for all. And when Voldemort's soul - that tiny part of it that had clung to
the Dark Arts that had destroyed the rest of it - reached the other realm,
those great teachers would imprison it. Then, no one would be able to resurrect
Voldemort in some scheme or another. It was what they did for other wizards who
had tried to take over the world, including Salazar Slytherin and Grindewald.
Only two had escaped such punishment - the witch Morgana, whose soul had been
destroyed when Merlin attempted to do it himself, thus ending his own as well,
and a wizard named Deanor, who had lived in the times of Atlantis and was
responsible for its sinking. Deanor had been turned into stone to mark where
Atlantis had once stood in the mortal plane, his soul trapped forever in it.
They hadn't been able to do anything with Voldemort the first time Harry had
destroyed his body – if they had, time may have warped too much for the entire
cycle to continue, and Harry Potter may not have grown up to become the wizard
he was meant to be.
James and
Lily, while not of the teachers who had taught him magic and spells, had taught
him of his ancestry and family values. Lily had been most upset to learn that
her son had been sent to live with Petunia, and had set out to correct the
things that her sister had done to Harry. James, on the other hand, had been
determined to teach Harry all about the Marauders and every single prank they
had ever played - but had soon learned that showing glee about the ones that
involved Severus was Not. To. Be. Done.
Now, though,
Harry was leaving all those he had learned to love here in the other realm
behind. Most of them were making a bigger deal out of it than it really was,
since he would end up here sooner or later, whether it be Voldemort killing him
off for what he had done, or Sirius killing him and Severus for being soul
mates. It was going to happen one way or the other.
Smiling at
his parents, Harry took a deep breath as a scene played out on the quidditch
pitch at Hogwarts. It was Halloween, and almost the stroke of midnight, as Voldemort
and his Death Eaters crossed the boundary between the school and the village of
Hogsmeade. Just within the castle walls, the resurrected Order of the Phoenix
stood ready for battle, and down in the dungeons, Severus was watching in
amazed horror as Harry's body began to flicker in and out.
In the middle of the pitch, Harry Potter stood, knowing that something big was about to happen. And he was ready for it.