Crunching came from the sombre kitchen. Breakfast was in – full swing. A big space between, Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle sat on the one end of the dark wooden table, the Muggle family on their opposite. Other than the sound of their eating and the ticking of the cuckoo clock on the wall, a disgusted silence floated between them, mostly coming from the head of the family. An unusual white stood in his face as he dug into his ham. His wife was white as him, her empty stare on her plate, just like their son’s.
As though a grenade had just exploded on the kitchen table, all five jumped when the doorbell rang. Dedalus and Hestia had their wands ready at an instant and they hurried to the dark corridor, followed by the clumsily bumping man who seemed to have lost every remaining bit of colour on his skin at last.
“Who’s there!”, Dedalus called through the closed wooden front door.
“Pos’ fer Mr Vernon Dursley!”, the deep voice of a man with a heavy accent answered.
The three exchanged a number of very different, but mostly confused and anxious looks. Then, only hesitating, Vernon squeezed himself to the door and tilted the metal lid in front of the spy hole. Visible relief rushed through his body as he recognised the man, even though he hadn’t seen him in ages.
“It’s alright. It’s the postman.”
“Why would a postman come here?”, Hestia hissed. “No one knows you live here now!”
“Maybe he saw us moving in.”, Vernon considered. “Incredible that he started to work here and it is us who move to exactly the same place. Now go back to the kitchen, will you? I can handle that. I know him.”
“But he might be – ”
“No, no, that’s him. I know him. He’s gotten rid of his beard, but he’s still the same. Go, go, go!”, a little stunned by his angry grimace, the pair hurtled back to where he wanted them; meanwhile he had already unlocked and opened the door. “Oh what a sight!”, he sang at the man, his broad, joyful grin fully convincing.
“Mornin’,”, the other smirked back.
“The world is small, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.”
“Took me a while to recognise you without the beard.”
“Yeah. Needed a change.”, the postman stroked a hand over his bare chin.
“I wondered where you’d gone. You left without a word. Been moved here?”
“Been, yes. Bu’ it’s a nice lil village. Nuthin’ ter complain.”
“Oh where are my manners – do come in! Well, of course only if you’re done for today.”
“I go’ sum’ time on me ’ands, yes! Thanks!”
The postman closed the door behind, with a checking glance outside. Vernon led him into the kitchen, walking ahead.
“Hang on, I don’t even know your name!”
He chuckled and turned in the moment the postman arrived in the small room as well. But when the postman dropped his bag by the wall and took off his cap as well as the reading specs and rubber band that held his hair in a ponytail, Petunia escaped a high pitched shriek. Hestia and Dedalus had drawn their wands in no time again, even before he could fully remove his fake earring.
“You!”, Petunia gargled, her voice still higher than usual. “What are you doing here! Get out of this house, you freak!”
“You remember him, darling?”, Vernon gazed between them, like his son. “But he – ”
“Because he works for the enemy!”, raged Dedalus, ignoring Vernon’s add with his wand trembling. “If you still want to live, then do what she says!”
“Oh I will.”, Severus said calm, having left his Jumble-Scottish behind at the door and dropped the false earring in his pocket. “But not without you.”
“We’re rather dying than letting ourselves be dragged out by you, you foul – ”, started Hestia but was shocked to see her and her friend’s wand lower by a gentle move of the newcomer’s hand.
“If you would listen to me, then you would get to know that exactly that enemy has tracked you.”
“And sent – ”
“No, Dedalus, I am here on my own account. He does not know I am.”
“Sure.”
“Have you said his name?”
“Whose name?”
“The Dark Lord’s name. He has spoken a Taboo on it. One of you must have said his name. That is the only logical explanation to me how they could possibly have found you. There are Death Eaters patrolling up and down the street. You wouldn’t even survive buying milk. They burnt down your house already, Dedalus, and now one of you apparently used his name in here as well. But never mind, I can get you out, perhaps without any notice.”
“And we are to believe that?”, Petunia sang with thin lips, but he just approached her.
“Yes.”, he said softly, though didn’t stop walking when she backed away against the sink. “Yes, Petunia. You can trust me. I mean you no harm.”, but she reached for a knife. “Put that down, Petunia. For your son. He shouldn’t see his mother hurting others.”
“What do you care, Snape. What do you care about what I do. Or about my son.”
“You are right. There is no reason for you to see why. No reason to trust me. But please do. Trust me, Petunia. For once in your life – trust me. Do it for Lily.”
“Lily’s dead. And why should I ever want to do something for her.”
“Because she was your sister. You didn’t hate her. You wouldn’t have given her son shelter if you hated her.”
“Even if. Why should you help us.”, the open disgust in her voice was yet not enough to hide her anxiety.
“Because of exactly that reason. Because I haven’t forgotten what you gave Harry.”
“I haven’t given him anything.”, she pursed her lips.
“Could I have a word with you in private?”
“Petunia – what is going on here?”, Vernon moaned but his wife just went for the living room, where she waited for Severus to follow her and closed the door behind, slightly wincing when he pulled his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at the door, which gave a humming sound.
“What do you want.”
“You shouldn’t be so sure about that.”, he sighed and granted himself an overview of the cosy old room, mostly held in dark reds and browns. “Yes, you were horrible to him, but that made him strong. And you gave him a kind of home, even if it might take him years to value that.”
“And that is why?”
“That is why.”
“They are really down there?”
“They are.”
“Did they recognise you?”
“No.”
“How did you get in?”
“Albus left me a note on where you will be brought. I am your secret keeper now.”
“So we have to trust you?”
“No.”, Severus remained calm and serious. “But it would be an asset.”
“Harry said you killed Dumbledore.”
“Did he say that?”
“Yes. He let it – slip through. Of course neither Vernon nor Dudley understand what that means. They were just surprised to hear he is dead. And I as- well, a little. Though it didn’t surprise me that it is supposed to be you who did it.”
“Naturally.”
“You confess?”, she almost imitated his coldness.
“I won’t dispute.”
“And we are to trust you? You killed the one who made me do what I never wanted and we are to trust you?”
“Now, if you never wanted to do that for him, and I got him out of the way, wouldn’t that be some kind of favour?”, she didn’t seem too amused, but understood what he meant. “As I said, I don’t really expect any trust. I solely hope for it, for your own good.”
“You killed Dumbledore but want to help us?”
“This is much more complex than you might be able to imagine.”
“And what does her son have to do with it?”
“Everything. He is the reason why they hunt you; he is the reason why I help you escape.”
“I can understand the first, but not the second. What was it that we gave him that it could make you grateful? Why would anything we probably gave him make you grateful? Just because he is her son? Did you – love – her that much?”
“I always loved her.”
It was then that Petunia lost all her tension. The way she gazed at him, made it unclear whether she still saw him. A little clumsy, she shuffled over to a dark red armchair by the empty fireplace and sank into the worn off, moth-eaten velvet that had lost its golden embroidery on several patches, just like the wallpaper. He summoned the old chair from the desk at the window, caught it effortless and carried it over to the carpet in front of her, where he placed it and sat down, his wand back in his sleeve and his fingers holding the cap between his legs as he leant onto his thighs.
“And now?”
“Still.”
“The boy?”
“Tell me, what would you give for your son? How much – would you sacrifice?”, Petunia hesitated a moment.
“Everything.”, she aspirated and Severus lowered his head, nodding with his eyes closed.
“Then there is no need for asking me to make you understand.”
He raised his head again and looked straight into her eyes that differed so much from her sister’s, and she unconsciously wiped a strand of her faintly greased blond hair from her face. In the dim light it seemed to slightly reflect the colours of the room, but he knew the reddish shimmer was not due to the surrounding. It had it in bright summer sunlight too. When Harry had been about five years old, she had tried to dye it dark brown, but even that had shimmered reddish then and knowing she didn’t like the fact, had ever amused him, every single time his thoughts brushed the matter.
“You – ”, the breath left her so quiet it could hardly be caught as a word.
“I.”
“He is – your – son – ”
“Yes.”, Severus said equally quiet, but with much more confidence.
“But he looks – like – ”
“Our father, in ways. Though he’s rather as thin as Mum.”
“`Our´?”
“James was my twin-brother.”, Petunia’s eyes gaped. “I said, it is complicated.”
“You said, it is complex.”, that cost him a weary smile.
“You are more alike than you wish to admit.”
“Probably.”, she was back to cold. “Why. Why didn’t you take him in.”
“Don’t ask me for giving you answers you know.”
“He would have been in danger.”, Petunia nodded, staring into the empty fireplace. “Does he know?”
“I have been unwary lately and he started to assume things, suspect things, but I think the recent events just blew those from his temporary thoughts. The truth died with – well, Albus got to find out about our relation; to be honest, it eventually slipped from my lips; but he is dead as well. Next to me, there is only one person alive to know the full truth. Or rather, almost. After all, it would have taken me ages to tell everything.”
“How was it for you? Having him grow up away from you?”
“I have been there to see him grow up.”
“Sure.”, the solution could almost be heard jumping into a bowl of proven facts in her head and she gave the cap, which he still held between his legs with his elbows on his thighs, a nod. “You – brought the post.”
“Yes. But describe me the exact opposite of `pathetically easy´ and you know faintly what it was like.”
“That still doesn’t – ”
“There is a big hole, Petunia. Think about it. I saw him once a week, for a minute or two, if even. He sometimes talked to me, more and more later on, but that just doesn’t do. I wondered what he was doing apart from what he told me and apart from the extreme conditions I felt. I did intrude Vernon’s and your mind to get to find out more about what he had to undergo, but I would have never broken into his. You just don’t go reading your son’s thoughts and memories, no matter how desperate you are to find out everything.”
“Naturally.”, she mumbled.
“I had gotten to know what his first word was, but I hadn’t been there. I had seen him crawl, but I hadn’t seen him learn walking. I had to watch his birthdays or Christmases or Easters clawing myself to the wall outside the windows or between the bushes in hope for a glimpse. He only had a single real one of each until he entered Hogwarts. The rest of those, he had been alone, cuddled up in his dusty locker under your stairs – and I was locked out, not allowed to enter, invisible for him should he get to sneak out – Petunia, I envy you for what you have. But that is life. If we chose a path, we’ll have to walk it on for good.”
Petunia took a deep breath and shut her eyes for some moments. When they opened again, there was nothing but determination in her change of topic.
“Get us out. Anywhere. Just away from magic. Anywhere. Anywhere they won’t find us.”
“You learned Spanish in school?”
“Yes.”
“Then I know a place for you.”
“Vernon doesn’t – I don’t like Spain.”
“I was not talking about Spain. I was talking about Puerto Rico.”
“Puerto Rico?”
“Believe me, if there is a place he doesn’t expect you at, it is there.”
“And you know a place there where we can live? How? Wouldn’t that still make us connected – ”
“I have a knack of hiding my connections, apart from some weakness I met with during the past months. It however hasn’t been enough of a lack to make him notice. The Dark Lord trusts me. He sees no reason anymore to question my deeds. You will meet an Auror there. Or rather, former Auror. He has escaped death one time too often and decided that if it already had to be me to save his life, it was better for him if everyone believed him to remain dead. You can live with him. So no, I cannot let you live away from magic. It would be too dangerous. But he can protect you there. Though only if you want to.”
“Any more options?”, Petunia asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course there would be another place you could go to, but even there lives a friend of mine who fooled the world too much to be seen anywhere near people who might recognise him as the one he is, even if he is under disguise – yet I would rather not risk your welfare; he is not easy to deal with, if one isn’t exactly the love of his life. But yes, unfortunately all safe houses I know are full. Outside Hogsmeade exists a nice cave however. Though I hardly reckon you would want to live in a cave filled with rat bones until this war is over.”
“No cave, no. I think, Puerto Rico is fine. How much time do you think we have?”
“Have you opened any window or any other exit of this house but the door today?”, he gave the fireplace a glance.
“No. And this chimney is cut from the Floo Network. There is an Anti-Apparition Jinx on the site. We are locked in.”
“Good. Pack your things and bring them into the kitchen.”
Severus raised, quickly drew his wand and gave the door a flick. which jumped open when the barrier was lifted, resulting in a squeal of Hestia who had eavesdropped in vain.
“Pack your things.”, Petunia quoted him curtly.
“Where’re we going, Mum?”
“Far away.”
“Far away where?”
“You will see when we are there.”
She hurried into the narrow corridor and up the tight staircase; Vernon, who hardly fitted through, followed her. Then Dudley and Hestia went after, not without a last look at Severus who had sat down at the table, eyeing Vernon’s half empty plate with aversion. Dedalus raised his wand again when he pushed it aside, put down the cap, reached over the table for Hestia’s bowl of dry muesli she hadn’t poured yoghurt over yet and tried a spoonful. He then leant back and ate on, ignoring Dedalus’ attempt to scare him.
“That is Hestia’s.”, the elderly man hissed.
“I know. And she is done with it.”, Severus replied languidly, his legs crossed up on Dudley’s chair.
“You think, you can steal yourself into her parents’ house, eat her breakfast and expect me to be friendly with you? After you killed Dumbledore?”
“Really. Why is everyone so resentful? His portrait and I are good friends.”, Severus sang, conducting with the empty spoon. “God – this is delicious. I need to find out where she got it from. Some ingredients are too crumbly already so I could identify everything that is in there, I must admit.”, he lifted another spoonful and studied it as though it was the most interesting thing in the world before he ate it, knowing it drove Dedalus mad. “A shame, actually, that he at last fell victim to his own mistakes, especially now that he realised them and finally felt real regret. But what can I say, life is unfair. He knew that and still he was tempted by death. I will tell nothing but the truth if I say that he quite frankly asked for it. But nor will I deny that I miss him already, even though he has been a very conceited fellow; dragged many people through the mire for his own welfare, modelling the world to his benefits from below. Want to know the real reason why the Dark Lord feared him?”
“Why?”, Dedalus finally lowered his wand, but didn’t lose his suspiciousness yet.
“Because,”, he swallowed the last bit, put down the bowl and spoon and wiped his mouth, “Albus Dumbledore was as much a saint as he is.”
“If you mean this incident with his brother – ”
“Oh that is just the tip of the iceberg. You should read Rita Skeeter. Once in her life, that woman got her information from the right source. Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t told her a thing, nor have I read her crap. I just invoke what I heard from those who did. Bathilda knew enough of the truth, believe me.”
“Are you just trying to justify murdering him? Murdering and unarmed old man?”
“With this, I justify only his demise. If you paid attention to what I said, you would not call it murder.”
“`Quite frankly asked for it´, you mean? You say he asked for it?”, Dedalus chuckled, the disbelief spurting from his eyes.
“Precisely. Because; which I said as well; he got crushed by his own greed.”
“Greed. Dumbledore and greed.”
“Oh yes. It infested him, just like the curse he had managed to catch by it. If you already know that much as to say that he was unarmed, then you might also wish to combine this with other knowledge you have of him. Albus Dumbledore wouldn’t have needed a wand to escape a dozen Death Eaters. He could have blinded them with a snap of his fingers and jumped over the parapet, flying away. Yes, he could fly on his own, without a wand.”
Severus became black fog, rushed across the table and landed in front of the other man, materialising from the vapour while he carried on.
“And I can gladly tell you all of this, because, should you get caught alive on our trip, I will make sure to kill you before you can breathe in one more time. If not, lucky you. I will bring you to Diagon Alley, drop you in a corner and alter your memory in a way no one will ever be able to restore the fact that you helped the Dursleys or Harry escape, because, if I told you to whom I bring them, you would kill yourself anyway. I too know about the unsorted complications between you and him.”, Dedalus swallowed and shrunk some inches. “I solely tell you the truth about his death because I need you to come with us. I cannot escort three Muggles alone without giving up my own covers and that would mean the end of our world. If I fail, Harry is as good as dead. And although I will never forgive you having told Albus that Remus had a crush on me since our school days, my aversion towards you is unfortunately not big enough for allowing me to accept such an enormous risk.”
“What?”, the others had returned, heaving trunks and bags down the incredibly uncomfortable staircase and corridor.
“Now, Dedalus, do you happen to possess something like an empty bag here? Neither of them seems to get the meaning of being `on the run´.”
“I have – some empty – handbags – in my – trunk. Phew.”, Petunia had managed to pull it into the kitchen and pushed it to a corner where she opened it again and rummaged for said things.
“The second one will work, thank you.”
He picked up his postman bag so they could get into the small room with one less obstacle and went for the hat. In between him, Petunia and the dining furniture, each of them watched him with interest when he pulled his pouch from beneath his clothes and enlarged it to stuff the hat and bag in it, as well as the uniform he then took off. Petunia, pressing her handbag to her chest, eyed his bare legs with a raised eyebrow.
“What?”, Severus frowned as well. “I know, they are quite hairy.”
“I didn’t say a thing.”, she blinked heavily and discounted her husband’s stare. “What is so funny?”, she pouted at the window when Severus had halted his actions with his arm in the pouch and started laughing.
Now all other eyebrows were high up in the air, the balls below marvelling at the two as they turned bright pink. Severus pulled out a pair of scarlet velvet trousers as well as a fitting long robe with silver clasps and a floor length hooded cloak of the same material and colour, slowly calming down.
“Dun’ say I din’ say.”, he smiled brightly and hung the clothes over a chair so he could dress more easily.
“You can drop it, Snape. No one is interested in your childish assumptions.”
“Childish? Who is showing her nostrils to the neighbours that can’t see her?”, through those, Petunia took a deep breath and looked back at him, trying hard not to make her stare drift at his legs, but seconds later, they were covered and she sighed again. “You might be willing to hide the facts, but she was your sister. No siblings can be contrary enough as to not share even a single thing.”, his smile gave place to a sadness that filled so much of his heart and soul. “I should know.”, Petunia only threw him a brief nod and another sigh and looked back at the window while he gave the table a clearing wave of his hand and closed the clasps of the robe up to the open buttons of his shirt. “May I?”
Severus stretched out his arm and she gave him the bag, though a little reluctantly. Again all eyes were on him, watching him wordlessly putting an Extension Charm on it and enlarging it to the size of a padding pool so they could get the trunks and other possessions in. When the handbag was back to normal, he closed the zipper and gave it Petunia, whose expression wanted to tell him that she was disgusted by touching something he had had in hands, but lost the game to his very own raised single eyebrow.
There was one more thing he took from his black pouch: an elegant but discreetly decorated red and silver Volto Mask. He temporarily placed it on the table, stowed the pouch away, adjusted his clothes and bound his hair together again.
“What was it?”, all eyes zoomed at the boy with confusion. “Did something bite your leg?”
“Interesting that you noticed it.”, smirked Severus.
“Isn’t hard to miss? I mean, it looks sorta ugly compared to the other.”
“Why, thank you!”, the moment his sarcasm hit Dudley, he somehow regretted it.
“Just asked.”, he mumbled ashamed.
“No harm done. At least less than Fluffy did.”
“Fluffy?”, Dudley looked up again.
“The three-headed dog that found my leg more delicious than you do.”
“Three-headed dog?”, the small eyes became much larger when the heavy lids suddenly pushed up his faint brows. “Who’d call a three-headed dog `Fluffy´?”
“Hagrid.”
Severus sighed, then he threw over the cloak, ignoring the Dursleys’ mutual gasps, but gave Petunia a last glance and put on the mask. When he had pushed the hood over his head, he reached into the pockets of the robe and slipped on red Dragon-Hide gloves he had kept in them
“We will have to leave through the garden.”, Severus said muffled by the mask and pushed a chair to the buffet next to the sink.
“I am not climbing up there!”, Vernon brandished wildly.
“Oh, you will. You are on the run and I am your lead. If I say you climb, you climb. If I say you run, you run like the Devil was after your moustache and if I tell you to dump yourself in a cesspool, you will obey without opposition. Now come on.”
He opened the window, swung himself over the dresser and out with ease and waited on the stone-walkway around the wall. As expected, even Dudley was quicker than his father. Unlike him, the boy had lost some weight during the past weeks and knew well to use the fact to his advantage. He even helped his mother out. Dedalus and Hestia were last, pushing Vernon down into the garden with all force they could gather. A hollow bump and he landed on a puny bush, muttering his upset as he heaved himself to his feet and rather inefficiently brushed down cracked pieces of branches of what was now almost flat. Severus pulled his wand.
“Take my hand.”, he offered his left hand to Petunia. “Don’t worry, this Dragon doesn’t bite anymore.”, visibly displeased, she nevertheless accepted. “And the others’.”, she reached for her son’s hand, who took his father’s then. “You as well.”, murmuring, Vernon grabbed Hestia by her right wrist, eyeing the wand in her left hand. “Dedalus?”
Severus last meant him to hold on to his. Standing in an awkward chain, he made himself invisible, causing the effect to apply on all of them and the lot gazed at the loss of everyone’s colour to shades of grey.
“Mind what I said. I cannot guarantee for anything. One of them has killed Phillip Horkery and claimed his glasses. They work similar to Alastor Moody’s eye, if you remember what that means. So once we leave the circle, I have no idea what exactly will await us. We might escape unseen, or not even. I didn’t want to worry you, but I counted no less than twenty-five patrolling the sight. Utterly stupid, considering that you know even less on Harry’s whereabouts than I do. Now, wish us all good luck. Ready?”
He waited for approving murmurs and started running at full speed. Actually prepared, none of them was falling behind. There was a deep humming when they crossed the barrier, miraculously all at once. Then, before he could Disapparate, a loud shriek echoed all around, followed by thundering bangs of flashing curses sizzling through the air. Momentarily blinded, Severus could just let go in time and cast a shield over the Dursleys when a man with odd glasses already came running at them, encircling the group along with two dozen masked black figures.
By that, Hestia had already freed herself from Vernon’s clenching fingers and was battling one of the Death Eaters outside the shield. Severus had to push Dedalus aside to be able to launch himself over and her out of the way. A killing curse from behind shortly missed her. Two more were shot back and hit both Death Eaters, the one she had duelled and the one who had attacked her, hard in the chest. Stumbling, she tottered back into the shield in the split second he had opened for the purpose of shoving her inside.
More curses and jinxes crashed onto the shield, making the Dursleys duck in fear, but the shield was strong enough to repel them all. Only a breath later, the air was nothing but green and yells, though they hadn’t reckoned with the agility of the former Seeker. Holding another shield in front of him, he turned past flashes, trying to figure out where Dedalus had gone. One of the Death Eaters was pushing up a sleeve, but died just before her fingers could touch the Mark. Nevertheless another had had the same idea in the same second.
Darkness all around. The flashes ceased. An ice cold fear laid itself over the battleground, but he knew the feeling well. A bright shine rushed around, the otter putting the Dementors Voldemort had brought, to flight before they could fully arrive at the scene. Guarding, it swam around the shield that covered the Dursleys and Hestia. Black fog fell from the darkened sky, only feet away. There was another number of green bolts and it was only the two of them. In the corner of his mask’s left hole, he could just spot Dedalus’ motionless body on the ground, eyes wide open. As gentle as the other’s bare feet travelled over the singed grass, he shortly raised his free hand and the lids closed.
Standing out from the conjured darkness, glowing red eyes studied the robes in similar colour, then the Venetian mask that was entirely framed by the hood. In the still, cold air under the dark sky, his breath could be seen blowing from his nostrils. A little distracted, the snake-like eyes flicked onto the otter that had positioned itself between him and the shield.
“Now who might you be, defender of Muggles?”, the hissing voice sneered as he flourished his interest with his bony white wand, held by thin fingers that were only differing from it in a slight hue.
“Yer wors’ nigh’mare, Tom Riddle.”, Voldemort gasped at the name.
“You dare to address me in such a disgusting, disreputable way? Me, the Dark Lord?”, he bellowed.
“Oh fergive me, Yer Lor’ship. I fergo’, ye claim ter be tha King o’ Britain.”, Severus chuckled like a madman.
“Hmm. You seem to be believing that you amuse me. In fact, you do.”, he took one step closer but was kept in place by a line of fire that erupted from the grass with a simple flick of Severus’ wand. “Ah what is this? Trying to keep me at distance?”, Voldemort’s struggle to put out the fire was giving Severus an utmost satisfied smile behind his mask. “Remarkable. You possess a strong will, my dear defender.”
“I’m no’ yer `dear´, Tommy.”
“Now, now, why don’t you stop calling me after such a weak pile of uselessness? Where have you picked up that name actually?”
“Ye call ’im weak? Who’s tha one who can’ pass me flames? An’ ’is grave, Riddle, ’is grave. Tha very grave ye defiled fer yer return. Tha very grave ye desecrated fer yer sickenin’ rebirth. Tha very grave ye captivated me son at an’ took ’is blood. Oh wai’ – no – ’t was yer ink-sodden diary, ’e stabbed.”
“Your – son?”, Voldemort laughed. “YOUR son?”, this self-aggrandising laugh had always been a pain in Severus’ ears, but he would bear it like he had ever done before. “Harry Potter’s father is dead! He died ages ago! I killed him! I! I saw the pitifully lights leave his scared eyes when he was foolish enough to not step aside! I killed him! His reflection came from my wand when Priory Incantatem emerged between the boy’s wand and mine! There is proof! There is an immense amount of proof! So, tell me,”
“Harry Potter’s father is much more alive than ye migh’ ’ave ever though’ ’e’d be.”, Voldemort’s self-loving smile froze and he tried hard to see the eyes, see past the shield of the mind, but failed like he failed at the flames.
“This is ridiculous. You have no evidence. Harry Potter’s father. Pathetic.”
“I am ’is father, believe it or no’.”
“What are you then? A ghost?”, Voldemort laughed cackling.
“Ghos’s are transparen’.”, Severus sneered. “If ye excuse me now, I wan’ ter visi’ anuther man ye failed ter kill.”
Again there was a bright flash when the otter, accompanied by a doe, stormed at Voldemort and knocked him over. Transforming to fog, Severus rushed to Dedalus’ body and flew it over to the shield where he, once inside, seized Hestia’s arm. To their virtue, she had held the trembling Petunia, who for her part had held her husband and son in a lousy protecting manner. Without a sound, they were gone, glued to one another by magic, the Patronuses dissolving as they left. None of them heard the furious scream that made the windows in all neighbouring buildings burst.
Bright sunlight on a sandy coast, shortly catching the smell of salt. Ice cold snow and heavy polar wind. A deserted wide landscape, owned by random rocks on dry ground and a starlit sky above. The green sea of a forest. A grey back alley in which a cat proclaimed her chagrin on the sudden change in her surrounding. High flat rocks above a wide meadows. Streams of water running past them from a melting glacier. Bright sunlight once more, then early dawn between green bushes and palm trees. The grassy area overlooking the green, a turquoise sea in a wide semi lunar shaped bay further down the high hillside. But all the beauty of the place was powerless at the moment, as powerless as he was.
Exhausted to an extent that caught him off guard, he sank to the ground and stared up into the cloudless early morning blue. The sun had just risen over the sea. Not letting go of her handbag, Petunia fell to her knees; Vernon and Dudley landed on their fundament. Only Hestia moved. Though panting like the others, she crawled along Severus’ side to his outstretched arm.
“No – ”, she gasped, hardly able to touch the man whose hand he still held. “No!”
The cry escaped her louder and without actually intending it, she slid down onto Severus’ chest, weeping bitterly. He tucked his wand back into his sleeve and, not letting go of Dedalus’ hand, he pulled off the glove and laid his right arm around the woman, stroking her head with his now bare fingers.
“Get up, Hestia.”, Severus whispered softly, having calmed down a little. “Please.”, he pushed her, but she just shook her head and loaded all her weight on him. “I need to get us noticed. I need to – ”, a humming from his right drew his attention.
“No need to.”, his wand in hand, he supported himself on a thick, crooked walking stick that was decorated with little shells, rattling as he limped over the boundary, a wooden hut now visible to them. “Saw you Apparating. Ruddy hell, you brought a whole lot of people there!”, his dark eye travelled over the group; the empty cavity where the other would be, was covered with a black leather patch. “Come on up.”
“It would be wonderful if you helped me.”, Severus grumbled. “Hestia has decided to become a sandbag and it doesn’t happen all too often that I Apparate nine quick times in a row, with a devastated witch, a corpse and three Muggles on the arm.”
“All right, all right.”, the other growled, gave his wand a flick and a dumbfounded Hestia Jones was levitated to her feet, tears still flowing over her shaken face.
“Thank you.”, Severus sighed and pushed himself up.
“Now get in there, before they track you.”, their host limped back towards the house, forcing the others to follow him. “Don’t want to lose my shaggy hut. Was close anyway. Why didn’t you tell me about the hurricanes?”
“Hurricanes?”, a bit startled, Severus looked around and noticed that the bushes and trees in the area must indeed have taken a hammering not long ago.
“Yeah. A gust hit us last week. Hell, am I glad that I could strengthen the shield. A jerrycan barely missed that kapok over there.”, he shortly pointed his walking stick at a high tree at the left end of the area. “Don’t know where it landed. Maybe I’ll go searching for it in times. Looked a bit like old José’s, if I think about it. He’s missing his fishing boat since. Got swallowed by the waves.”, a swoosh resonated when Severus stepped in last, Dedalus on his arms. “They flooded the entire bay. Tourists’re out. The beach’s still filled with dead fish. Hear the seagulls? No? Well, probably the wind changed. Woke up to their breakfast revelry. Poor people down there. They had two storms in the beginning of July. Some say it was three, depends. But everyone’s certain there’re going to be more. Why does the crappy weather always have to make itself nice, cosy seasons. All right, boy.”, he stopped and turned to them, making Hestia finally look up.
“Oh my god – ”, she aspirated, her grief forgotten in no time. “Mad-Eye! You – you’re – alive – but that’s – ”
“Impossible? Nope, as you see. Took you quite a time, eh? If it hadn’t been for Severus here, I’d have pegged out for sure. Shielded me from the curse in last second, but the blast was heavy enough to knock me off my broom. Incredible fellow. Caught me before I hit the ground and flew back up to help Potter. Saw him become invisible near the boy, far in the distance. The kid sent some nice spells, but managed to be a protective fool when he was close to escape. Then he was there again, wasn’t he? Heard him shouting. Was a little frightening, even for me. Now tell me. It’s been over a month without a word from you. When did Potter learn to re-aim his spells in mid-shot?”, Alastor winked with an askew smirk that was emphasised by his scars. “Right. No answer’s an answer. You can wear that mask as long as you want. I don’t need my eye to see your face. Did he notice that you directed his hand?”
“No. Hermione also believes I did, but I didn’t. Harry, however, thinks that his wand acted on its own, so does the Dark Lord; though what happened there might have just been an unconscious move in a desperate try to survive.”
“That – no way – he did that? He really did that himself?”
There was a longer pause between them, in which only their eyes met, connected in a strange way and Severus wished it to end, but somehow couldn’t look away, nor stop his own tongue from curling inside his mouth that seemed to shrink, and he pressed his teeth together so hard it almost hurt him when his stomach contracted along with unavoidable tears filling his eyes. He knew that feeling so well, but by the second he noticed there was something different and he tried to figure out what this strangely positive stinging in his chest was. When meaning to confirm it had been Harry alone to have cast a spell so powerful in such a situation, Alastor carried on.
“Granger’s in contact with you?”
“I told her to stop it.”, Severus gargled, having to take a deep breath to open his throat for managing to speak further. “I have given her a Communication Paper, but she must have misunderstood the meaning of the word `emergency´ in the first place. Nevertheless she found another way to pass me some information without being obvious.”
“And what did the clever girl do, may I ask?”
“Packed Phineas.”
“No!”, Alastor laughed joyful.
“Yes.”, Severus confirmed grumpily. “He is a pain in the arse, but he takes his new job serious. Now if you don’t mind, Dedalus is getting heavy and I’m strangely starting to sweat under this mask.”, Alastor sighed, all his cheer drained instantly.
“You’re right. We can’t dump him out here. I liked the fellow, I have to admit.”
“I thought – ”
“What? Oh – that – yeah. Forgave him long ago. Too bad he didn’t make it. Always imagined he’d die a happy death, somewhere in a comfy room, suffocating from his pipe with a smile on the face.”, Alastor growled, turned and pushed the lousy excuse of a door open. “How did he die?”
“He stood no chance. I had the choice between saving either him or Hestia.”
“Put him down there. I never use it.”, Alastor waved at a dusty sofa that was sloppily covered with a patchwork blanket. “And of course the gentleman decided for the woman.”
“I didn’t decide. I acted.”, Severus corrected him and carefully laid Dedalus’ corpse on the sofa, finally being able to take off the cloak and mask. “You cannot imagine the mayhem. I have never been so close to death that constantly ever before. It was a green thunderstorm. First I believed he wanted them for information, but now I know that all he wished was seeing them dead for having given Harry cover.”, he wiped back some loose, sweaty strands and rubbed his face dry with his sleeve.
“So he’s gone mad at last?”
“Has he ever been sane?”
“Good point.”
“You gave up on him.”, Hestia murmured quietly.
“Pardon?”
“You heard me right, just like I heard you talking to him. You knew he wouldn’t make it and did your best to let it happen as soon – ”
“This conversation has got nothing to do with it. I reacted in a split second. Maybe I thought he was more capable, maybe I thought, you had more life to go on that would have been wasted, I don’t know. I reacted. Live with it.”
“Tea?”, Alastor nodded to a kettle on the gas cooker. “Or rather a Scotch for the lot?”, he chuckled when he examined the Dursleys’ faces.
“I’d be fine with a tea, thank you.”, sighed Severus and took a look around in the drab, crammed shack. “Something negatively strong. I need to calm down a bit. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
Severus stored the gloves, put the mask and cloak down on a single chair and searched his way through a box filled with old records. Meanwhile the Dursleys had at last managed to somehow sit down on another sofa, in the right end of the rectangular dwelling, surrounded by three windows that were covered with dusty jalousies which seemed to have been rescued from a landfill. Hestia took a wiggly chair, acting like a Roman pillar during an earthquake. The dim light fell scarcely through the slits between the almost closed slats. To emphasise the gloom, Alastor closed the door with a wand-wave.
“Beware. There’s a lot of crap in it.”
“Crap.”, Severus snorted. “That’s a fine collection, you got there.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes.”
“Found something interesting?”, Alastor limped along. “Earl King, eh? Kidding me? I always thought you’d be more the Hobgoblin type.”
“Hobgoblins? Me? Want me to kill you with a turnip?”, Severus chuckled and put the disc on the turntable.
“Noooo!”, the stretched, amused moan made the Dursleys shiver. “Turn that off.”
“Come on. It hasn’t even really started. Wait – is that – a live record?”, Severus raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. NOLA ninety-three. Better than the original. Caught it on the radio.”, he patted his flat hand on the wireless next to the gramophone which were connected to one another with some cables in odd ways. “Arthur’d be blessed. Oh please, Severus. Everything’s going down the drain anyway. No need to emphasise it with a song.”
“Give the world some irony, if you may,”, Severus smirked broadly and leaned with his bottom to the table.
“No.”, Alastor murmured on.
“Let me listen to that. I want to know how he’s doing it.”
“Some great solo in there.”
“Definitely. I can hear it coming. And you should turn that one off.”
“Sure.”, Alastor swung himself over to the cooker and picked up the kettle, killing the noise with a big grin at Severus who had closed his eyes and drummed his hands on his thighs along the rhythm. “Didn’t know, you were that musical.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me.”
“Quite probably. I never really figured you out. How could you possibly stand up to him alone and survive it? Did Lucifer own you a favour? Or swallowed a whole cauldronful of Felix Felicis?”
“Oh, neither. In basics, I merely flattened a number of hoodies and let the grey prance behind the fire.”, his voice was indifferent while the rest of him melted away with a guitar solo; Alastor couldn’t resist a good laugh.
“He knew it was you?”
“Would I be here then?”
“No. We’re too good for him.”
“Way too.”
“A little full of yourself, are you?”
“Just a little. You started.”
“Ages before you. Tea’s ready.”
“I can smell it, now that the noise stopped punching my senses. Give me that stuff or I’ll jump off the next cliff.”
“That urgent?”
“More than urgent. He’d still be alive if I’d taken them from behind, one after another, even before I got into the house.”
“You. And Russian roulette.”, he chuckled in. “Leave that to your Queen.”
“I was naïve to believe we could be fast enough. But they must have seen me entering. What kind of Muggle postman enters a secured area. Stupid me.”
“You’re getting old.”
“Oh shut up. Thank you.”, Severus received the steaming cup and clutched it with both hands, staring into space. “And thinking that I might get the lot out of there invisible, nice and smooth – they put up a Caterwauling Charm in the meadow, in case someone might consider fleeing through a window. No ground-touching, ever again, I swear. But it’s too late.”
“Douse some tea over it.”
“Yes. Probably better.”, sighed Severus and took a gulp, instantly calming down – but not fully.
“So what’s he doing? Who’s he gathering? I heard on the wireless that the Ministry’s under Thicknesse?”, he had finished serving the other four tea as well.
“Imperiused.”
“And Rufus?”
“Dead.”, with a horrific scream that made all but Severus wince, the kettle crashed against a shelf with differently filled jars that only didn’t break when they hit the floor because their owner; who leaned onto his Foe-Glass now; had put a charm on them.
“Tea?”, Severus said hollow and held out the cup.
Alastor only nodded, his face first buried in his arm and reached blindly for it, eventually getting to grab it, and drank it in one go. Then his head fell back against his arm and the cup slipped from his thick fingers, the sound of the breaking china hitting Vernon’s ears only. Hestia bit her lips, unsure what to look at and trying not to let it be Alastor’s walking stick that stood upright on its own, which would lead her face into Petunia’s direction. Petunia on her account, gazed past Severus’, over to what she could see of Dedalus’ body on the sofa by the door. Dudley studied his thighs with empty eyes. And Alastor – though shaking horribly, hung flaccid over the Foe-Glass and cried into his sleeve.
The record had stopped playing in the middle of the current song. Lonely, the table spun, giving a quiet whirring sound, but the needle was up in the air, unable to touch it. Seemingly without breathing, Severus slowly turned, glided silent across the dusty wooden floor and gently lifted Alastor. Careful not to hurt him, he pulled the eyepatch off and placed it beneath the glass.
Two hands were watched by a watery dark eye as they opened two silver clasps as well as some buttons and searched their way inside for a small black pouch with purple ornamental embroidery. From that, they took a round wooden casket, just big enough for holding something like a tennis ball. Recognising it, the tears stopped flooding the filled and empty cavity. Severus only turned it so the lid would open in front of Alastor, which it did without being touched.
The inside of the casket was lined with mirrors and fixed on a fitting metal stand, a white ball rested peacefully. The flashing blue iris kept still, directed at the mirror wall. His hands trembling, Alastor took what he had believed to be lost. The routine calmed his hands as he stuck it into the second biggest hole in his face. The moment it sat right, the eye spun around, his view with it clearer than ever before.
“What do you see?”, with the deep breath Alastor inhaled, his lips were quivering once more and the streams of tears set forth their journey down his scarred cheeks.
“S-Severus – I l-left it – ”
“Behind, I know. They took the bait. They commutated it and Umbridge abused it for securing her office.”, Alastor let out a quiet growl. “But thanks to Corban Yaxley I got to find out that a certain trio broke into the Ministry, stole an important artefact, freed some Muggle-Born and retrieved it. I was lucky that Phineas caught it as a hint when Hermione spoke into her bag, searching, while they discussed how to get something to eat. This way I found the forest they had fled to, and eventually the place they had built up their shelter.”
“What did she say?”
“`Well, if any of you’d like to share your opinion on how to possibly get some other food than mushrooms in our limited forest area, I would be grateful.´”
“Logical thinking.”, Alastor chuckled dull.
“It was so plain simple that it was already ingenious. I waited until they were gone, more than an entire day and night. Knowing Harry even more than her, I guessed right. He had buried it under an old tree. Took me a while to clean and reset it. So, how does it feel?”
But all answer he got was his face grabbed by two knobby, firm hands and a thick kiss pressed to his cheeks and forehead before Alastor wrapped his arms around him, the crying returning. Severus put down the casket next to the eyepatch and completed the embrace with a charmed smile, either weariness swept away for the moment.
~~#~~