Emptiness. Everything blank. Think, he silently told himself, THINK! Closing his eyes and panting heavily, he thought of a solution, just hoping she wouldn’t torture him behind that door. Trapped. Captured. He had to check. If it really was a trap, he needed to act. Corridors sped from his sight as he rushed through the castle and outside at some arches, upwards. The window in the tower sprung open at once and he landed inside, yet unnoticed and without a noise. The stand was empty, as he had expected, but it did not matter. He approached it, pulled his wand and stirred an exclamation mark into the ashes. It transformed into a single red and golden feather which he picked up. Then he began writing on the back of his left hand. The feather imprinted no colour or marks, but he could see the writing. Done, he wiped it off with the feather, threw that into the air and it was gone in fire.
On the other end of Britain a flame erupted in mid air, making a Hippogriff startle up. The screech he gave, woke the man that had been tending him before he had dozed off somewhen. Quickly he caught the feather before it fell and at an instant, the message appeared on the back of his hand.
H had vision of you being hostage of YKW in DoM. Confirm wrong.
When he began writing over it, the message vanished and he could see his own otherwise invisible handwriting. He gently brushed the feather across and threw it up, leaning back against Buckbeak with a snort.
In the high office, securely behind the other barrier, the feather reappeared in fire and as he caught it, the letters emerged on his hand.
Lame work, Snivvy. I’m in HQ.
A rather relieved sigh left him and he erased the note by crumpling the feather. Since it was gone once and for all, he; his wand still in hand; drew a nice amount of exclamation marks into the ashes, each becoming another Phoenix feather. He slipped them into the pocket of his robe, just to be on the safe side. There was this knot in his throat telling him that he would be needing them and as he had run out of stock, the move had been badly necessary. Eyeing the ashes, he decided another saving wouldn’t hurt. Ten more signs, ten more short feathers in his bulging pocket.
None of the portraits had woken up, neither by his entering, nor by the light of the flames. He knew to be silent, far too well. Like a cat but upright, he paced back to the window he had come through, staring out into twilight. It was dinnertime, but even though he was hungry, he knew he wasn’t to join them. He wouldn’t have been able to eat anyway. That feeling he had, told him that however delicious that food would be, there was no way he could force it down his own throat. He felt some fear, but no pain. It was a bit too quiet. Something had happened.
The window closed noiselessly when he had passed its frame and made his way up to the Astronomy Tower. Inhaling the fresh air, he leaned himself against the parapet and let his eyes travel over the hills, his wand clutched tightly. Movement. Down on the grounds, at Hagrid’s hut. Even from the distance he could make out the identity of the teenagers; following them, a pink stump. She had a nerve, he thought, raising his left eyebrow. But apparently it had worked. She was a convincing liar, that much he knew, and Umbridge a lousy Legilimens. When they vanished in the shelter of the Forbidden Forest, he knew that at least one of them wouldn’t come back out. Hoping it would be Umbridge, he thought it better to stay and look out for any sign. Acromantulas, Centaurs, wild Werewolves and Grawp were a little too many enemies for her. Let alone the small defenders of that shelter of Mother Nature.
Slowly the sun was getting closer to the horizon and he found himself bathed in beautiful colours. But he couldn’t care less at the moment. Concentrated, he watched the trees for evidence of a fight. A group of youngsters caught his attention. Ahead, her angelic fair mane flying after her as she ran, Luna followed a bluish light bulb past Hagrid’s hut, Neville and the gingers at her heels. Somewhere deeper in the forest, birds startled up in panic as the trees they had settled down in, swayed dangerously, right when the four entered the wood. The light was swallowed by the dark inside alike. A loud roar echoed from the depths, undoubtedly from the centre of the turmoil where the trees were shaken.
His fingers clutched his wand so tight now that there was almost no blood left circulating in them, ready to intervene at the slightest hint of need. Grawp moved deeper into the forest and he was beginning to worry so much he feared it would tear him apart before he could take off and fly for aid. In addition, his heart was hammering against his Adam’s apple, making him nearly unable to breathe thoroughly. The blood red sun touched the horizon in the very moment something black rose from the treetops: six winged creatures. His heart fell so heavily that he downright felt it slide past his stomach and land in his pelvis.
Bony Thestrals came flying up to the castle. He backed away into the shadows when they crossed the grounds. Accompanied by a gentle humming sound, they passed the barrier and flew over the Black Lake, southwards, just as he had begged they wouldn’t. By the speed of the Thestrals he knew there wasn’t too much time to go. If he was there, waiting, they wouldn’t stand a chance and he himself could hardly help them openly. Not only years of devotion would have been in vain. Much more was at risk. Too much. So he waited for the group to be gone, transformed to black fog and left the shields of Hogwarts, Disapparating immediately.
The soft breeze left behind, a dead noiselessness thudded at his ears as he Apparated on the topmost step of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The sounds of London appeared so distant to him he already expected to see the surface of a sea or lake when he looked up into the darkening sky while he simply pointed his wand at the lock. It clicked and he stepped in quietly, closing the door behind. That moment, Tonks came downstairs from the bathroom, jumping lively into the very corridor and startled with a high pitched shriek when she spotted him. Hardly surprising, the curtains blew open and Mrs Black screamed her protest at the top of her long rotten lungs.
“Will you never learn to listen you foolish pack of Blood-Traitors!”, three floors up, a door slammed open and angry stomping made its way to the basement. “Leave this place or I shall unleash my full wrath on you, muddy scourings!”, huffing, Severus marched towards her, skilfully flipped his wand so it pointed backwards, lazily raised his arm and stabbed the black stick into her painted eye she had meant to hide behind the already singed spot. “AAAAARGH!”, Sirius almost crashed into the opposite corridor wall when he came to halt, a little dumbfounded, his tousled dark hair falling into his face. “You will pay for this!”, the painting of his mother screamed, losing audible volume as she ran through the house. “One day you will terribly pay for this, you treasonous Half-Blood!”, her mutters and cries died down when she reached a room in the attic.
“Wotcha!”, Tonks chuckled. “Nice one, you did there. Didn’t know she’s vulnerable.”
“Thank you. Did not bother spreading the news, did we?”, he turned to Sirius who groaned.
“Did not believe me, did we?”, he countered when a clonk swell as it resounded numerous times from downstairs.
“Good old Severus, eh?”, growled Alastor. “What brings you here?”
“Bad news. Very bad news, Alastor. Who else is here?”
“We’re just having supper, Remus and Kingsley are still in the kitchen.”, Tonks moaned, her hair not being the only part of her body that was bright red now.
“Better than nothing.”, Severus smirked desperate and stormed past Alastor. “Follow me.”
“How often – ”, Remus groaned, swallowing a piece of meat, “Do we have to tell you that you shall keep quiet when you walk through that corr- oh – ”, his frustration became surprise the second he looked up from his plate. “What the – ?”
With gaping mouth, he watched the unequal four taking in their seats, Severus helping himself to an empty chair at Tonks’ right and eyeing her potato gratin. His stomach gave him away by a distinct rumble and Tonks interpreted it right. With a smile, she pushed her plate and fork over to him, receiving a mournful stare from him and a snort from Sirius.
“It’s okay.”, she said to Severus. “I’m filled like a pigling.”
“Er – ”
“Ab’s sour cream.”, meant Remus blushing instantly and neither he nor Sirius, who dazedly stared at his friend, missed that fact. “Er – goats – his – goats’ – ”
“Thank you. I hardly believe anyone in their right mind would use – ah – his – for cooking.”, he sighed nevertheless and started eating.
“Bad news, as if. Has Umbridge kicked you out before you could steal something from the kitchen?”, the looks Sirius was presented with upon that considered revenge for supposedly making Remus blush, or merely talking, were nothing short of loathing, from everyone. “But what’s the use anyway? As thin as you are, I’m certain you’re too anorexic to k–”
“Harry believes his vision.”
That sentence had had a greater impact on him than he had probably wished it would have had if he had known it to come. While the others pricked up their ears, Sirius’ mouth slid open, all his grumpiness swept away. He had never looked so properly at the man that ate up Tonks’ meal. Doing so, Severus explained every detail for the others. When he swallowed the last potato, he finished with a pleading gaze around. In moments of disturbing calm, the plight sank in and after some more exchanged looks, they all jumped up at once and headed for the door.
“Wait!”, Severus stopped them spinning on their heels. “Someone has to call Albus and – ”
“That’d be you then.”, Sirius grunted.
“No. You do that. Stay here and wait for hiss arrival; tell him what I just told you.”
“You wish! He’s my godson! Calling me a useless coward and then expecting me to stay here while he’s risking his life for supposedly saving mine!”
“Exactly. That is what the Dark Lord expects.”
“Oh – having planned it long-term, haven’t you?”, Sirius gritted his teeth, coming back slowly. “Known it all the time?”
“No, Sirius, listen.”, Severus begged. “I know him. I know his way of thinking.”
“Ah! A confession!”, both ignored the glances from the others.
“Listen!”, the pots and pans above the table shook from the blast wave that had erupted from him. “Please! You must stay here! You have to! It is the only – ”, Severus winced and squinted.
“Yes?”
“The only way.”, he huffed, biting his lip with a miserable grimace. “Please don’t be angry with me; if you want to survive this night, you have to stay. Harry sees you as his closest. If anything, they will try to kill you first to weaken him.”, Sirius was taken aback, but the information didn’t seem to be reaching him. “He just summoned us. Bellatrix answered as well. You know you don’t stand a – ”
“And how I stand a chance against that bitch!”, Sirius was back at his rage.
“Sirius.”, it was Remus who had addressed him softly.
“What!”
“He knows best how they think, you are well aware of that. For once, try to listen to him, please, I beg you.”, he did the three necessary steps towards him and pulled him into a brotherly embrace that was returned, somehow. “I’ll take care of Harry, I swear.”, Remus whispered to him and let go, patting on his head. “I swear by my life. See you later.”, Remus turned to leave the kitchen with the others; Severus did the same, but shortly laid his hand on Sirius’ shoulder before he went.
“Forget that god, trust me. Forget that god, if you don’t want him to have left once and for all.”, he aspirated, his ebony eyes drilling into Sirius’ grey ones for some seconds, then he hurried upstairs before Sirius could find more words.
Out on the topmost step in front of the door, he stood alone. The others had Disapparated already. A woman passed him, dragging her daughter. Hidden behind the Fidelius Charm, she didn’t see him undress. She didn’t see the additional house at all. Not even a minute later, he wore a grey suit over his white shirt and threw a black cloak onto his shoulders that wasn’t his either. Before he stored the pouch beneath his shirt, he took out a small bottle and a phial and emptied the hair into the bottle, which he drank in one go to fit into the suit and shoes. He hadn’t answered. No one would know. Silently, he meant to Disapparate as well. But when he remained at the staircase rather than landing in the Atrium, he understood that Voldemort had found one of the buttons to bolt the Ministry.
The employees for the night shift were probably suffering from the same blockade, wondering why they couldn’t get in – or merely considering someone had decided being funny. There was just one way. He Apparated in front of a scarlet phone box, not sighted by the Muggles in the street, and entered it. In a quick move he dialled the code.
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”, said the woman’s voice.
“Dirk Cresswell. My business’s none of your business.”, he growled.
“Thank you, visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.”, he impatiently grabbed the square coin that read Dirk Cresswell, Black Op. “Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search – ”
“An’ ’ow I am! Will ye lemme search fer ’em now before tha Dark Lor’ blows up tha whole place or do I ’ave ter blas’ a buildin’ ’igh ’ole inter tha groun’?”
Oh sweet rage. It was just as effective as ignorance. At least regarding him. The box sank momentarily, yet he tapped the glass impatiently before he was confronted with a completely empty hall as the box settled.
“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,”
“An’ ’ow battlin’s pleasan’ sum’times, ’oney pie.”
As the doors burst open, he stormed towards the golden Fountain of Magical Brethren, around it and headed for the lifts. Instead of taking one, he pointed his wand at a tile that could have been overseen. It was inserted wrongly, but melted with the wall at first sight. The tile burst when he flicked the wand and he hammered his free fist at a big red button in the wall. It should have given a short whistle, indicating that far away in specific houses and flats all over Britain, a howling alarm would shrill. Though there came no sound, not even on the third punch or the try of a gentle push. Knowing what it meant, he let out a frustrated groan, hammered another button and jumped into the lift that appeared next to him. It sped into the underground, rattling and clacking. The announcement that he had reached the Department of Mysteries resounded and as the grills clattered aside, he already flung himself out at full speed, down the corridor he knew from Harry’s visions.
The black door sprung open without his touch and he ran straight forward through another that cleared his way before it could close and make the room turn. Ignoring the bluish glowing cloudy mist around him billowing and swirling as he cut through it, he had only one aim: the door at the very end of the dreary room with the ceiling that petered out in black nothingness, to the left, driven by a voice that echoed in his head. Our little secret. No one needs to know, she had said. His hand reached out for the handle as that door didn’t open automatically. The second before he pushed it with his full weight against it, another voice raised in his mind. Teacher? Still? Ruddy! Goo’ job, eh? Gotta be prou’ then, don’ I? Risk free. Ligh’ work. Well-pai’. A horrible flame of pain exploded in his heart when the door gave in.
Thundering noises and calls literally thrashed his ears. Down in the pit, around the veiled arc, a fight was at full force. A Killing Curse missed him by an inch. The one he shot back, zoomed past its target as well as the caster was stunned in the moment. Flashes blinded his eyes that searched desperately from his higher position while he shot the one and other stunner down now so as to not kill the wrong ones. White long hair in the middle reflected the lights and he saw the old man spinning. A scream that impaled him as though someone had drilled burning iron spears right through his soul.
“SIRIUS!”, Harry cried somewhere in the mayhem.
Where was he? The lights were too bright and he had to duck away too often. His shield was weak and collapsed. A woman laughed down everything, high pitched and ominous as he tried to run down the high stairs, hexes and curses all missing those they were meant for. He was out of training, beside himself and had to pay the full bill. Meanwhile, Dumbledore had gathered up a group of Death Eaters, binding them with and Anti-Disapparition Jinx, that much he could tell from their struggling.
“I’LL KILL HER!”, was all he could hear from Harry’s further yelling.
“Harry!”, completely exhausted, Remus moaned after him, but without success.
Finally he saw him, hurtling upstairs on the other side of the room, out through a door. Another Stunning Spell hit Lucius Malfoy hard in the chest as he tried to aim for the boy and the blond was collected by Dumbledore as a last. But he didn’t bother the room anymore. In this case not out of practice, the long legs, even though they weren’t those he was used to, quickly brought him upstairs and after the young one. Regretting his speed, he slid across a slimy, slippery substance on the floor between motionless brains and nearly toppled over. Due to that, the door on the other side fell shut before he could arrive at it. Knowing what it meant, he let out a groan of frustration.
“Sir?”
A girl whimpered at a desk, but he was too drained to turn and instead just stemmed his hands onto his thighs, bending over with troubles of breathing thoroughly. The fact that he inhaled into slightly differently shaped lungs did its bit to it. Now that he rested, his sides began to ache and his head was playing merry-go-round for a good while, his own fury mingled with someone else’s. So he just noticed Dumbledore sliding by and shouting an instruction at him before he seemingly pointless disappeared into the round room.
“Help them, Dirk! I need to find Harry!”
Still disguised, Severus just waved him off, having lost all capability of proper thinking somewhere in the glowing mist. Only slowly, he could rise and his head fell into his neck, not stopping to pant – his own lungs out of Dirk’s. The pain in his heart was so terrible he wanted to die straight away just to make it stop, or to transfigure one of those brains into a knife to simply cut out the useless pump. The worst, he knew what it was. He knew it too well from the past. But he was not to die. Not from that. It wouldn’t be any use.
Ginny Weasley moaned again, bringing him back to his senses, if only a bit. He turned around and saw her sitting against a singed desk that had been knocked over. A little farther away, her youngest brother was giggling heavily with his eyes awry. Her hair soaked by the deep green liquid on the floor, Luna Lovegood coughed from injuries that were not visible and – Hermione Granger was obviously unconscious.
Severus staggered over to the girls and knelt into the slime, first attending to the latter, feeling her pulse. He had been right. A check of her eyes gave him additional proof. Sighing out some of the heavy load that made his movement feeble, he crawled over to Luna with his wand between his teeth so he wouldn’t dive it into the liquid. They counted now, no one else. They needed – he needed them for distraction. Through the door he had entered the room, an ashen Remus Lupin stumbled inside, Neville Longbottom behind him, half of his face swollen and bloodshot. Some of those bruises were still bleeding.
“Where – doesh id – hurd?”, Dirk Cresswell’s voice came out of his mouth past his wand as he addressed Luna.
“M-my backbone.”, she moaned and he ran his fingers he had wiped dry at Dirk’s clothes down the girl’s spine, stopping when she whimpered the most.
“Dirk – ”, Remus aspirated, padding over to the loose group, but the one who wasn’t who he thought had cleaned his hands on the travelling cloak and gently tapped his wand at the girl’s aching bones, muttering an incantation no one understood. “How come – you here? How’d you know?”
“Where is Sirius?”, he helped Luna sit up, who sighed in relief that she could move again and self-tested her body on full function. “Harry cried for him – where is he?”, Remus followed him as he carefully crawled over to Ginny who held her ankle, her tear-washed face staring straight at his.
“He – ”, Remus sank to his knees as well; only Neville remained standing, seemingly having forgotten his wounds.
“Aaaargh!”, the ankle had cracked back into place and Ginny was struggling for breath, more tears running from her eyes.
“Yes?”
“He – he – ”, the man stared directly at Ginny but in a manner it was hard to tell whether he actually saw her. “He – ”
That moment, a clanking sound came from the still open door and looking irate to the top, Alastor approached the first desk he could reach, slamming his walking staff at it with all force he could bring up and growling like a mad lion before he dropped down to it, crying the tears that were still stuck at Remus’ eyes. Tonks had stopped in the doorway, her elbow-length hair a miserable grey disaster, leaving only Kingsley in charge of the trapped Death Eaters.
“Fell through the Veil – ”, Remus aspirated the detail that hadn’t been necessary anymore.
“No – ”, Ginny gargled, apparently having understood. “No!”
Neville was still as though he was in the wrong place, Hermione didn’t stir yet and Ron was busy with giggling into space. But Luna had frozen now, her otherwise shiny eyes becoming hollow tunnels. Her mouth stood ajar like Severus’, whose lips were trembling as he blinked, unsure what to look at. Then his lips curled and he pressed them shut to hold back a chuckle when his view blurred.
The awareness stabbed his insides, the final awareness that he hadn’t been able to convince him, the awareness that he had – failed. Biting his crying down, his jawbones started aching in addition to his sides and his lungs rebelled as he was running out of air due to tears blocking his nose, even though the pools overflowed.
Beaten off the track and therefore incapable of noticing it, his shaking body slowly changed too soon and his own white fingers were suddenly the ones that clutched the black wand. The too short sleeves of the jacket pulled the white shirt with them when the arms grew, now baring the black rubber band at his right wrist. Veils of black hung to his cheeks, becoming sticky as tears searched their way down them. With his fists on his thighs and sitting on Cresswell’s constricting shoes in the green liquid, he slightly rolled in. To his right, Remus gasped. So did Ginny and Tonks, all three having spotted the revelation.
This was it, he thought when the pain in his chest became unbearable and he pressed his free hand to it, digging his again slime-covered fingers into the clothes. But the feeling only lasted some seconds. Then there was nothing but emptiness. A certain something was still there, but the emptiness was soothing and he knew that it was over. The tension in his body wore off, though it didn’t stop shaking.
He looked up at Remus who stared at him as though he was seeing a ghost. There was only one thing that felt right now, before he would at last lose ability to move. He crawled the few inches between them and pulled him into his arms. Finally, Remus’ lids gave up the battle and heavy, loud tears left the Werewolf’s eyes as his head sunk onto the other man’s quivering shoulder.
~~#~~
Dust was infesting the once noble old house again. Cleaning it up was beyond abilities. In a painting, a small hole was gleaming. The high pitched scream had echoed through all floors. `Serves him well!´ she had said, to the wrong person. Shining shoes travelled over the furry seeming stairs, no cloak wiping the dust away. It was too warm outside, but inside the walls, a dead cold crawled around. Pale fingers enclosed a tarnished brass handle, pushed it down. The door quietly creaked. On the other side, the emptiness was more present than in the rest of the building. Around the long table, the fire in the chimney just a minor soldier against the army of dread lingering above their heads, a group of people had gathered.
No time for fun. The joke shop in Diagon Alley was closed for today. The twins sat at either side of their parents. Next to Fred, the real Dirk Cresswell. He as well, had taken a day off, like three professional Aurors among the mourners. Kingsley was the only one in the whole room who hadn’t shed a tear yet. Both sitting sideways to the table, her arm around Remus, Tonks’ face was as glistening as his from the thick salty water that covered it. The sound of wood hitting the floor hard. The next thing he knew was that a firm arm was thrown around his neck, pulling him close. He shortly returned the gesture. Even from beneath the magical eye, heavy tears had ran.
“It’s good you’re here, boy.”, the growling voice gargled quietly. “We need anyone who knows what it’s like.”
He gave a stiff nod and followed Alastor to the table where he grabbed a chair, placed it in front of Remus and sat down, leaning forward. Remus gazed up at him through the watery veils as two cold hands carefully held his right. Silent tears emerged from his own eyes when Remus raised his shaking voice a little.
“How can you – s-stand – that?”
“I can’t.”, he replied softly.
“S-still?”
“Still.”, Remus broke into chuckling.
“How could he’ve been so – stupid!”
“He wasn’t stupid, Remus. He only followed his heart.”
“But you t-told him – I t-told him – ”
“It was foolish of any of us to expect him to stay. It was foolish of me to expect him to remain here while I couldn’t have.”
“How’d you say that.”
“I went, didn’t I?”
“Did.”, Remus whimpered. “Why – ”
“Just for the reason I said.”
“I don’t want to stay here. Not in this house.”, Remus considered after some seconds of silence.
“No one will blame you.”
“I can try convince my parents,”, suggested Tonks.
Muffled by the door he had closed, an angry voice of a man could be heard shouting upstairs. Loud clattering followed. The banging of a door. Stomping. The kitchen door crashed open and the fury in person rushed in, stopping just about a yard from the door, his long grey hair spinning as his head rushed around while the others tried to figure out what had happened. He groaned and kicked a stool in the corner, making them all jump.
“That bastard!”, he spat.
“Watch your temper, Ab.”, warned Alastor.
“I don’t care about anyone’s temper! That irreverent tosser’s turning the house upside down! I’d have him kicked out months ago and erased his memory!”, Remus’ hand was dropped, quick feet crossed the room and after a loud smack, the old man staggered.
“You call him irreverent? What are you?”, the other hissed. “Crashing down here and yelling your fury at us doesn’t change it. There is a reason why Albus wants him in.”
“Yeah. Sure.”, Ab growled, gritting his teeth and rubbing his cheek at the unexpected strength. “Dear Albus always knows better. Every underground organisation needs a good thief, yeah? Only that our thief’s stealing from us, Severus! He’s stealing from his companions!”
“What do you care, Aberforth. It’s not your house.”, he turned to go back to Remus. “The stuff’s Harry’s now. No need to care. You’re not a relative.”
“Tz. Sirius wasn’t an actual relative either. Still he cared for the boy.”, Severus ignored him. “Why shouldn’t I, eh? And after all it’s been you who’s been taunting him all the way. Why suddenly so devoted?”
“Aberforth?”, speaking calm, the second newcomer addressed him from the door. “What is going on here?”, but Aberforth just spun, pushed him aside almost as forceful as he had done with the stool and left the house, not without banging the front door another time. “Severus?”, that one turned as well and went for the fridge.
“Your ever so reliable, unfilial whoreson of a thief just raided the house again, Albus.”
“Don’t say – ”, he sighed depleted, “What has he taken?”
“How should I know? Aberforth just came destroying the furniture; he didn’t tell.”, different sorts of vegetables, eggs, milk, flour, some mincemeat and a steak found their way to the dresser.
“What are you doing?”, asked Molly.
“Mowing grass.”, Severus snorted when he cut off some chives onto a cutting board.
“Oh funny.”, she huffed and joined him. “Shall I help you?”
“No.”
“Do you even know what you are doing?”
“I could go back to Hogwarts and ask the Houseelves to prepare something,”
“Don’t worry Albus, I’m not willing to poison anyone here.”
“But it would be easier – ”, he hadn’t even moved a lash at the knife that had missed his face by three inches and now stuck in the doorframe, quivering.
“I dUn’ care wha’s easier!”, Severus had spun around; all pots and pans were swaying and rattling and the cupboards trembled dangerously, making the dishes in them clang and everyone but the two men was frozen in place and even time, it appeared. “Lemme cook, righ’?”
“If you must, I was merely offering my help.”
“I dun’ need ’elp! I never needed! ’Specially no’ yers!”, he cried and turned to cut some tomatoes with the knife that had soared back into his hand; passing the other man even closer; into a bowl he had summoned from a cupboard that had stopped trembling. “You may cook some rice, if you feel the need to.”, he then said to Molly, quietly and calm.
~~#~~
“What are you waiting for, Mr Malfoy? Seize the day!”, the boy didn’t move.
“You heard her, Draco. And take a different direction than Potter, please. I do not wish to scrape you off a wall.”
That message couldn’t have been clearer. As though running for his life, Draco Malfoy hurried through the adjacent corridor of the Entrance Hall and around the first corner, out of sight.
“Scrape him off a wall?”, Minerva frowned.
“I wouldn’t send a fully armoured Giant near him, Minerva. If I think about it, he might even be able to tear the Dark Lord into hundreds of pieces with his bare hands in the condition he is in now. Maybe we should take advantage of it, whatever. How are you feeling?”
“Apparently better than you.”, his former anger had actually unavoidably transformed into sadness.
“Me. Who cares.”
“Oh, a lot more people than you might wish to believe. Don’t mourn over points.”
“P– points?”, he chuckled in disbelief. “You actually think I – you dare to say I could be mourning over – points? We have lost a warrior!”, what had been left of her delight, was blown away brutally.
“Whom you tell. Albus came to me personally.”, she sighed into space. “Poor Remus. And the boy – not imaginable – what about you?”, her eyes were back on him when he turned to go.
“I need to check whether the potions I brewed for Miss Granger are showing progress. If you excuse me,”
Not willing to look at her, he hurried upstairs, but when out of sight, took the remaining distance flying. Before he reached the corner of the last corridor, he landed and walked on, eventually finding the doors of the Hospital Wing widely open and bright sunlight falling in through the rows of windows, casting a heavenly shine also into the atrium outside the hall which was Madam Pomfrey’s office as well.
In the middle of the infirmary, Ron sat on one bed, Hermione on the opposite. Around them, were the rest of the students that had fought in the Ministry, except Harry of course.
“Hang on,”, Ron aspirated as he walked directly towards Hermione, fetched a chair and sat down at her side.
“Severus – ”, Madam Pomfrey frowned, having calmed down Umbridge who laid closer to the cold oven. “What are you – ?”
“How are you feeling, Miss Granger?”
“Getting better,”, she considered, “Yes. Much better. I think, I’ll be able to – leave tomorrow – “, Hermione gargled at the sudden memory ringing in her mind, “Or so. Um – the scar – ”
“Will remain forever.”
“Oh – okay.”, Hermione sighed. “Well, at least, we have something in common now, Sir.”, he said nothing on it and Hermione only got herself some questioning looks. “Whipping cream is just – absolutely formative.”
“I can see, your brain still as damaged.”, he mumbled, making her curl her lips to suppress a laugh, but her broad, childish smile said it all.
“Same could be said for the toad.”
“An overdose of authority, I assume.”
“Oh yes. Getting Grawp-ed among Centaurs isn’t what I imagine under the term `pleasurable´, Sir. She doesn’t seem to struggle much currently though. You could pin her to the ceiling easily now, you know?”
All conscious eyes stared at Hermione. His chin however dropped to his chest when the teenagers started laughing, even though only one of them understood the full meaning. Annoyed that he had hair to cover it, she tried to see whether she could catch him grinning at his thighs, but he raised his head, presenting her with his famous, languidly raised eyebrow, no signs of actual cheer on his face and that wouldn’t change with Hermione’s following words, which she wasn’t even sure why she decided to reveal it in front of so many people.
“I wasn’t unconscious.”, she though whispered it. “I was just blinded by the light and weak – and probably I thought I should shut up because you could be pissed off if I asked.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said, I – ”
“I could clearly hear every word,”, murmured Snape, “But I believed, we already had that, hadn’t we? Speaking for hours without giving any hint on what that all is about, is really no use, Miss Granger.”
“I know.”, Hermione squinted shortly. “I mean, yes, it’s been two years, but – I – I just wondered – well – it makes no sense! You said you don’t hate – er – and then – um but you did – do that – no stretcher, I mean – um – you just c– I mean, on your arms – that’s – ”, by his widening eyes she could tell the message had arrived by the right ones of his cerebral gyri. “Why! I – ”, his annoyed stare was back. “Don’t under-”
“For the last time, Miss Granger, there are several matters in this wicked world you are not supposed to understand, ever, or at least yet. I am just not sure on which one to decide in the end.”
“So you leave me dangling above an abyss of confusing uncertainty until you’re sure what you want?”
“Quite like that.”
“That’s mean!”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not supposed to be accountable to you,”
“Whatever that was about,”, Ron moaned, yet somewhat careful, “For once I agree with him.”
“What?”, Hermione gasped, having just caught it.
“But just because he hates Umbridge.”
“Now that is very kind of you, Mr Weasley.”, the look he gave him, made Ron shrink in his bed. “I really hope you take it into account next time you wish I was dead, although there used to be times I would have agreed with you as well.”
“Er – ”
“Here you are!”, the voice of a woman sang from the doors, making them all turn immediately. “Fancy a swim in the lake?”, everyone gazed at her as if she was something very odd or some sort of creature that hadn’t ever been sighted to that point.
“I – beg your pardon?”, Snape aspirated for the second time within only two minutes.
“Why, yes, it’s a bright, warm, shiny Sunday!”, Burbage beamed like the sun outside and laughed at his expression. “Joking, Severus. Just joking! Someone should have taken a photo of that face of yours.”
“I’ll give you a photo, Charity. Namely of a stour on the horizon, which would be you running from me after I just closely missed you with a Killing Curse!”, he sang as well, but hollow and moaning; she and Hermione were the only ones to giggle, the latter receiving alarmed gazes from her friends.
“Save that for PP, you clod.”, Burbage chuckled. “Gotta show you something. You’ll totally freak out.”
“Which would be?”, Snape frowned and raised.
“You’ll see.”, she curled her lips with a naughty smirk.
“I won’t be going anywhere.”, her friend murmured.
“You just stood up,”, the woman wiggled her eyebrows and stepped backwards until she turned into the corridor, out of sight, and only a finger appeared, beckoning him.
“I suppose, it’s the hyacinth, Sir.”, Hermione rolled the Sunday Prophet up and down her legs, gaining more confused stares.
“I suppose so too!”, he gave the still waving finger a hollow chuckle. “I suppose, she just smoked it!”
Hermione snorted another giggle when he shortly shook his head, paced from the infirmary and before he could turn as well, a hand quickly seized his wrist and pulled him into the corridor.
“Bloody hell!”, Ron moaned, having seen it. “What was that!”
“Oh, nothing.”, Hermione grinned. “Professor Burbage just woke a born florist.”
“Er – what?”
“Forget it. Just forget it.”, he could hear her sigh, and Ronald’s protest fading away with the distance.
“Where are you bringing me?”
“You’ll see,”
Though he couldn’t see her face as she walked ahead, he knew her smile had gone with the change in the touch of her fingers she had now woven into his. Only paying attention to the sigh of the wind from the open arches, he let himself be dragged along, unconscious, his gaze falling into a nonexistent huge space right behind her bumping golden waves. Dancing with every step, he could vaguely perceive the sunlight shimmering in it, just as if he was a maggot, drawn by a wandering torch with flames swaying playfully.
He gasped, but no sound left him as she had stopped, and him with her flat hand on his chest, in blind flight. Somewhat returning to reality, he stared along her left arm, past her head that was turned from him, over her shoulder.
“There.”
She had whispered softly, so quiet her voice could have been mistaken for the wind gliding by outside the thin pillars supporting the arches. Between a pair, the thick black thatch a usual mess, the boy smirked at something very small that moved before his face, in the air, obviously directed by the wand he gently held up.
“Now look at that.”, Charity whispered again, as if she was stunned by the sight. “He’s been doing that for an hour or so now,”, he could think of various things to reply, but neither word appeared to be powerful enough to squeeze itself through the tiny gap between his lips. “Fascinating, isn’t it? And the little laddie even seems to enjoy it.”, indeed, the greyish brown animal didn’t seem troubled, but even amused by the stream of air that kept it from falling and it rolled around like a young otter playing in a pond. “Come on,”
“Wha’ – ”, she had dug her fingers into his robe and pulled him away from the corner, straight towards the teenager who was still deeply in thoughts.
“It’s about time you sort that out.”, at last Harry’s head spun, but he didn’t lower his wand with the mouse some inches above.
“Eli,”
“I’ll be at lunch.”
“No,”, he meant to protest and hurry after her, but she shot a simple jinx that made him jump backwards.
“And how I will. I still belong to that part of mankind that does need food for survival, unlike you.”, she gnarled before she disappeared around the next corner. “You seem to have mastered the ability to feed from despair and self-pity. Enjoy that meal of yours, you bloody Dementor.”, Harry only huffed on the scene, his face back outside at the landscape.
“Fine!”, he shouted after her. “Go fetch up some big fat turkey, lucky you!”, startled by his loss of temperament, he panicked at the black head. “You haven’t heard that,”, Harry huffed again.
“And people call me naïve.”, the mouse began to twitch and squeal quietly. “Honestly, I don’t care if you treat your colleagues like your students, Sir.”, the boy sighed. “Or worse.”, he added pouting.
“She knows I didn’t mean that as I said it – ”, and again it had just left him.
“Yeah. Just like Mum didn’t care, now did she?”, Harry grumbled, apparently oblivious to the animal’s struggling.
“Don’t speak of her as if you knew her.”
“Oh damn, I forgot – you knew her slightly longer than I did. Sorry I couldn’t get her to step – ”
“And you are right.”
“What?”, Harry jerked at the feeling of some fingers around his wrist and the mouse fell on his lap, where it rolled off and ran away – over his knees – and –
“Anger is no real solution. It brings only hurt.”
“You – you killed it!”
“Released, more likely. It jumped voluntarily. Otherwise, you, would have killed it.”
“Er – ”
“You honestly haven’t noticed – ”, without meaning to, his hand let go at the look Harry gave him from below and he pulled it back past the boy’s chest, slackly up to his own, where it stayed as a loose fist, not touching the black fabric in his slight shock.
“Noticed what?”
“Don’t mind me.”, he blew a breath with his arm falling and, holding with his other hand on to the pillar at his left, his eyes drifted across the hills, blank.
“Well, if you beg for it, Professor,”, snarled Harry, “Then I don’t and let you know that you are the last person I’d want to go all philosophical on me now.”
“Certainly. You have all the right to say that. Though it doesn’t bring him back.”
“Tz. What d’you know.”, that anger made him angry as well, but he swallowed the urge of arguing. “You don’t know anything. And don’t act as if you cared for that mouse – or – or Sirius – or even me.”, as though having sat on a chair in the middle of a room, Harry got up and swung himself around the thin pillar to their right, outwards, into the next alcove.
“Of course I don’t know. I have never had a godfather,”, that made the boy falter, just in time to stop him from repeating his lazy balancing act. “One less – ”, he walked after him and climbed the wall in that next alcove as well, “Thing,”, and leant with his back against the pillar Harry had used as a support, crossing his arms and legs leisurely, “To make me as vulnerable as you are.”
“What do you want.”, Harry spun, suddenly panting like a wild ox and his hands in fists, the right still clutching his wand from which a number of red and golden sparks emitted.
“Oh there are several things I’d want,”, his look again drifted across the lands. “None of which you would either be able or be willing to provide me. I cannot even resent you for that. After all; and that is what I assume to be the words my colleague, as you called her, wants me to say to you; it is my own fault.”
“Did Dumbledore send you?”, Severus’ head jerked at the boy.
“Why should he – ”
“How did he lure you into that rubbish, huh? What did he promise you, should you actually say that crap? Must have been something grand!”
“Albus Dumbledore is currently unavailable for dwelling in his so beloved world of vested interest, due to wallowing in an amusingly worse sort of self-pity as – ah – Professor Burbage – hoped to taunt me with. What did he say to you – that he – cared for you too much?”, and again, Severus studied the hills.
“Yeah. Something like that.”, Harry sighed, his anger fading. “He cried.”
“Did he?”, his head unintentionally zoomed at the drained young face again.
“Yes.”
“Congratulations!”, a chuckle escaped him. “Seems, you finally broke that damn old fortress,”
“Doesn’t bring back Sirius, now does it?”, the next chuckle left both of them mutually.
“No.”, he realised it was more pleasant to study the shadows the few clouds cast on the school grounds, and so did Harry.
“But yes, it’s like you said. You can’t know what it’s like. You – you never – had a – and – ”, Harry visibly fought a lake of tears damming up in his green eyes, “And he wasn’t – look, I know I’m not to speak about it, but he changed. He wasn’t the nutter anymore who supported anything that harmed you, Sir. Sure, he tried to offend you at any given opportunity,”
“Do not try to stand up for his faults.”, he said softly. “When dead, no one can redeem themselves. It makes no sense harbouring grudges anymore when the opponent has left this world. They can return neither word nor act and the grudge will fall back heavy on the bearer. The dead that had not been meant to wander among the living, should be laid to rest. No matter how good or bad they were in life according to one’s point of view. Being aware of their acts is one thing and learning from it as well, but developing hate, another. It will be projected on the innocent. And that, knowing you, should be vaguely against your philosophy, not?”
“My philosophy.”, Harry aspirated. “What’s that anyway. And you’ve been nagging about my – ”
“A brighter than you might be willing to believe at the moment. Also I can see how you can not be able to believe that I will no longer stab your godfather’s remains. You have fortunately seen not enough yet to understand. But you can trust me, if you would prefer to include yourself in that law of mine or not, I do not wish anyone to go through what I had. I am selfish enough to say that. Because, it is hard to understand and even harder to accept – every harm, especially the deaths we truthfully hope for in blind loathing, will haunt us for a lifetime. I won’t tell you to hate or love me or stop you, should you now mean to drill your wand up any of my body’s vents or not, whatever you feel like doing.”
“I believe you’d said, Dumbledore didn’t send you,”
“And that is he truth, whether you may believe it or not. Each and every one of us has to cope with the results of our acts in the end. If anything in this world is simple, then it is the law of cause and effect. A good example is that rather minuscule belief of yours you probably only expressed to make yourself feel less crumbling. It is, if not nearly as satisfactory as I, in the first place, may have believed the awareness to be like, but it is indeed proof that my opinion must have left its marks on our Headmaster’s brilliant, impeccable mind.”
“So you say, he just said those things to me because he heard you saying them long ago, or what?”
“No idea. It just gives that impression, doesn’t it?”, Harry merely shrugged upon that. “Cause and – and effect – ”, Severus sighed, trying to fight the thoughts that meant to force themselves into his consciousness while looking at the boy, troubled again whether to keep doing so or to let it.
“Sure.”, said Harry flaccidly.
“If you excuse me now,”, some sanity; or insanity, whatever; must have won at least one battle, “The cause of not having eaten a single bit in two days has at last won over my stupidity with the effect of an aching stomach.”, he gently hopped off the sill, but Harry stopped him from leaving.
“Send it my greetings, Professor.”
“I beg your pardon?”, he turned back to see the boy staggering inside as well and going in direction of the Hospital Wing, catching too late himself that he must have gained a new common phrase.
“The turkey.”
“Oh that; I think I will send it to Azkaban with your best regards,”, Severus frowned after him.
“My thoughts. When Umbridge arrives, it’ll just be good enough to suit her taste. Damn it, are you a Legilimens or what, Sir?”
“Perhaps, I never bothered considering what may be the reason for images flashing up when I drill my eyes into others’,”
~~#~~
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