Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4162047.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Voldemort, Hermione_Granger/Draco_Malfoy, Lily_Evans_Potter/
      Severus_Snape, Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin/James_Potter, Harry_Potter_&
      Severus_Snape, Neville_Longbottom/Luna_Lovegood, Cedric_Diggory/Fred
      Weasley/George_Weasley, Amelia_Bones/Lucius_Malfoy
  Character:
      Ron_Weasley, Hermione_Granger, Luna_Lovegood, Severus_Snape, Tom_Riddle_|
      Voldemort, Voldemort, Albus_Dumbledore, Harry_Potter, Fred_Weasley,
      George_Weasley, Draco_Malfoy, Lucius_Malfoy, Sirius_Black, James_Potter,
      Lily_Evans_Potter, Remus_Lupin, Neville_Longbottom, Amelia_Bones, Blaise
      Zabini
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, Abuse, Past_Abuse, Past_Sexual_Abuse, Dumbledore_Bashing,
      Manipulative_Dumbledore, Evil_Dumbledore, hurt!harry, Side_Hermione/
      Draco, Soulmates, Veela_Lucius_Malfoy, Good_Voldemort, Abusive_Dursley
      Family, um, mysterious_pairings_are_revealed_in_time?, sorry_lol,
      Creature_Inheritance, Creature_Harry, Neko_Harry, Ron_forever_alone_lol,
      nah, i'll_find_something_for_him, Maybe_-_Freeform, Resurrection
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-19 Updated: 2018-01-28 Chapters: 8/? Words: 17277
****** Three Lonely Souls ******
by naomi_winchester
Summary
     Harry wishes someone knew about the abuse that rules his life.
     Unexpectedly, Snape gives him the answer with a potion that spoke out
     for him unwillingly.
     Questions are answered, and Harry finds himself in the Dark Lord's
     possession.
     Oh well.
     A/N:
     I am very slow, forgive me. :/
***** When The Truth Comes Out *****
Harry Potter sat in his cupboard under the stairs, tears streaming down his
fever-flushed cheeks, struggling to pull himself together after another night
in the Dursley home. His uncle had done it again, had beaten him until he could
hardly move, but he hadn't rejected it. His left arm was broken in several
places, and his right wrist was as well. His legs were bloodied up, his thighs
covered in welts from the belt. His back hurt the worst though-- there were
scabs reopened and new fresh wounds that he knew would get infected like the
rest of them from the whip. Several fingers and his nose were also broken, and
he had trouble breathing because of it.
But tonight, Uncle Vernon did something he's never done before. And Merlin, it
hurt, it hurt so bad. His arse was sore and leaking semen from when his Uncle
had taken his virginity hours earlier. He was so scared and felt so violated.
His Uncle had said it was a going back to school present before shoving him
back in the dusty, spider-infested cupboard.
Flashes of colors, vomit greens I’m gonna be sick- are the last thing he sees
before it all goes dark again in his tiny prison cell.
He knew he deserved it. Harry felt that it was only fair, after all, he had
caused the death of his parents and Sirius. It still may not be punishment
enough. At least, that's what everyone, trusted and untrusted by him alike,
seem to keep telling him.
If not when he was awake, in his dreams.
Nightmares.
He kind of felt tired of it all. Harry didn't see a point in anything he was
doing. Defeating Voldemort seemed especially pointless. All he wanted was a
family, and true, Voldemort denied him many options at having a family, not by
just killing his parents, but by making him famous. He was scared no one would
love him for who he really was. The Dursley's certainly didn't help with that
fear.
He was tired of being mad, and after a long period of four years, he decided
that he shouldn't cry over spilled milk, even if it was his parents that it was
spilled over.
It only gets you beatings.
Of course, no one else new about that. Now he was just kind of sad. He knew he
was denied possibly a life that maybe Severus Snape expected him to have. He
couldn't blame the man, he believed anything Dumbledore told him, and the old
coot had a manipulative streak.
But, in reality, he felt like anyone he ever loved died. His parents, Sirius,
even Cedric Diggory, who was his short-lived friend from the Tri-Wizard
Tournament from just the last year.
It all just comes back around to being ungrateful. He should have been more
grateful to have parents, to have a godfather, to have at least one true
friend.
Well, that wasn't entirely true.
George and Fred Weasley, while knowing nothing, had loved Harry, which Harry
knew, as Harry was sensitive to the magic of love. He could feel it. He knew
true love, and that's why he let his guard down when he found it. But that just
get's everyone killed. He hoped that the fiery haired twins would not have the
same fate, for they were all he really had.
But then he also had no one. No one knew the secrets he kept.
And that was what Harry thought about every time he was beaten, refused food,
and stuffed back into the dark cupboard until it was time to head to King's
Cross Station.
How he had no one to save him.
                                     + + +
Harry was beyond relieved to be back on the Hogwarts Express. He was in so much
pain, his arse hurt, and his back stung, but he was leaving, and that's what
mattered. And, so no one knew, he had glamours on to hide his hideous skin.
They came naturally, his magic soothing him, having healed what it could as
soon as Vernon let him be, to make up for what it could not do.
He didn't talk at all. Not when Ron and Hermione came into the train car, not
when Malfoy came to pester them, and not when he was poked and prodded at by
the three of them. He just stared ahead, flinching as Malfoy poked a sore spot.
Eventually, Harry just picked at a piece of thread stringing from his brown,
ratty pants, picking, picking, picking. When that thread broke he picked at the
seats, just picking, picking for something to do.
He was surprised with how much he trusted them, even Malfoy. Everything was
different now. Beatings, yeah, he got them pretty often. But rape? That was
another new and entirely horrible chapter of his life that he needed time to
get over before he even thought of speaking to them like everything was normal
and okay.
Even so, he thinks that all three of them are relatively harmless, told by
their auras. Ron’s was grayish, Hermione’s a lighter gray. He wished that they
were white, he really did. They were his closest friends, so of course he did.
But Ron had such childish jealousy in his heart towards Harry that his white
was tinted darker, into a pavement gray. Hermione was a much lighter shade, and
he thinks it’s because of something that she can’t control. Most days he feels
that she should be brighter than she normally is, and he just can’t shake that
feeling that she has one of the brightest auras of all his friends.
Malfoy’s, however, was a dark blue, something that Harry had come to realize
was just who the small slytherin was. There was no black, not for him. His
sadness was tinged with hope, making it the beautiful shade it was. He may have
been dark, darker than Ron and Hermione, but he would never be the vomit
green of Vernon Dursley.
Ron spoke up, his grayish aura flickering as he spoke. "Maybe he just wants to
be left alone. He can often be tired after the summer," he suggested. Malfoy
sneered. "Only after the summer? How... odd." Malfoy silently reminded himself
to tell Snape about Harry. Something wasn't right.
The only reason he noticed was that because of his own summer, that he had to
spend alone, as Lucius was away on a mission from his Lord, and Narcissa,
well... she had been gone for some time. His mother, as it turned out, was
never so much in 'love' with his father as much as his money. It really did
make sense, as Lucius had been the one taking care of him all his life
(contrary to belief), and he had barely seen his parents so much as talk to
each other ever since he had been born, probably. Anyway, spending time with no
one had made him think about how pathetic he really was. No one really liked
him for him so much as feared him or liked his devilishly handsome looks. That
was all he wanted really, and for him, it didn't have to be a pureblood girl,
or he would be a hypocrite. No, he feared what his Lord would do if he learned
of the information. Somehow he still was offended by Mudbloods, but it was more
of just a chain reaction. He was used to saying it, and he didn't know how to
stop following his stupid instincts.
Hermione huffed. "Yes, well, what are you doing here anyway? You can pester us
more at school, now shoo."
Malfoy sneered, ready to retort that he wasn't going to listen to a girl, much
less a Mudblood, but he realized, it wasn't as fun without Potter. He didn't
really have anything against the three. He just loved the reaction. His
shoulders slumped when he thought about how petty he was being. "Yeah, okay.
Just see if you can snap him out of it, will you Hermione?"
The bushy haired girl gave him a look of surprise. "Umm, yeah, sure Mal-” She
tilted her head. “Draco," she amended.
"M'kay, thanks." He rushed out of the little cabin, the tips of his ears and
his cheeks a bright red.
Ron was shocked, to say the least. "Did DRACO MALFOY just thank you, or am I
hearing things?"
Hermione laughed. "You said the same thing about your hearing when Lavender
asked you out a couple years ago." Ron glared at her. "Lavender is my
girlfriend, and I would appreciate if you--"
"Ron, I'm just kidding."
"Right, I knew that."
Then the train whistle blew, and Harry jumped up, grabbing his trunk and making
his way off of the train after the prefects. The prefects looked at him
surprised as he rushed past to get to the carriage's, not giving the train a
second glance, not even looking towards the first years making their way
towards the boats.
Ron and Hermione were still lingering on the train, continuing the playful
banter from before, not suspecting that their younger friend might be in pain.
Harry, on the other hand, was looking in wonder at the bony magical beasts
pulling the carriages. Luna Lovegood approached him, the light lavender of her
aura enveloping the space around them, but not confining them. She was
just… there.
"Thestrals. They're rather gentle really, just a bit different. You can only
see them if you've seen death."
She looked into his dull eyes.
"Oh, my. And death you've seen," she whispered. She reached out and grabbed his
arm lightly, not missing the slight flinch he gave. It still hurt from healing
incorrectly. "Come, young one, we can still make it to the first carriage.
Maybe then you can be alone for a few moments, hm?" she asked in a dreamy
voice, leading him to the front end of the line of carriages, a thestral for
each one.
He climbed in, waiting for Luna to join him, looking at her confusedly when she
didn't. She smiled at him. "I know you well, Harry. Spend some time to
yourself." And then she was gone.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and laid his head back on the seat just as the
carriage lurched forward. A quick glance behind him told him Luna had sent this
one early, as the other students rushed to find a carriage.
And that's where he fell asleep, the carriage moving softly with a steady thump
of the thestral’s walk lulling him to darkness after many sleepless nights.
***
After the first day of coming back, Harry successfully managing to take a
shower while keeping the glamours in place after coming back from the first
years sorting, he was exhausted. But he had Potion's now, for two hours, with
the Slytherins.
That was another thing he had thought about to distract himself from his
summer. He didn't care about the Slytherins anymore. They were just judged
badly. Not every witch or wizard coming out of Slytherin was bad, just as not
every Gryffindor was good. Harry learned where prejudice would get you, and
that would either be on the wrong side of a stinging hex or nowhere. Neither
sounded appealing, especially in his condition. He was especially tired of
beating back Malfoy just because he didn't accept his friendship in first year.
He was just plain tired.
He was interrupted by Snape's voice.
"It's called a Verba Animae. Even Longbottom couldn't possibly mess this up."
Harry thought about Snape and his deep, dark black aura, black like everything
else he wore. Harry thinks that the darkness surrounding Snape portrays his
loss, his sadness, rather than his anger. He was a right foul git sometimes but
had saved his life on many occasions. He was the bravest man he knew, yet was
so childish. He wouldn't give up his prejudice, against Gryffindors, and his
father, James. Harry was kind of disappointed in him, even if he could
understand that what his father did was despicable. It was in the past, and
Severus should learn to let go if he ever wants to be happy. Harry suspected he
was younger than he looks, and more of Snape's life should be spent happy, for
all of the lives he saved and made happy. Harry shook his head in sympathy.
Hermione raised her hand. "Uh... sir? Neville isn't here today. He's in the
infirmary," she said tentatively.
Snape critically raised his eyebrow. "Exactly, ignorant girl." Hermione
blushed, resting her chin on her hands.
"Now that we've gotten that out of the way..." Hermione blushed harder, "the
Verba Animae is a potion that is a lot like Veriteserum, but it forms it into a
poem, and when you swallow it, it will express your very soul, and the words
will just come to you."
Now Harry was panicking. He was very sure that his soul had some nasty things
to say about himself. Maybe there was a way out? Just magically become poetic
and make it up?
"And like I said, it is like Veriteserum, so you cannot resist what your soul
is telling you to say. Now, turn to page 394 and get started."
Harry sighed. Figures. He turned to the page and started reading, preparing the
ingredients exactly, making sure to cut the proportions evenly. After several
minutes of stirring and adding ingredients, and waiting, the potion came to
simmer at a nice, light blue color. With a flick of his hand the worktop became
clean, and his fire out. He cast a wandless stasis charm on it, with several
shields, determined to have at least one potion turn out alright, even if it
would probably spit out his own secrets that made him feel worse than if he
were Voldemort.
Eventually, everyone had a light blue potion on their desk, capped and ready
for consummation. Snape sneered at the Gryffindors and came to a stop at
Harry's desk.
Harry mentally groaned.
"Well, well, well, Potter seems to have actually made a potion correctly. Since
he has, he get's to go first." Harry grimaced at the menacing look on Snape's
face. "I want to get the spoiled brat's poem out of the way anyway." He waved
his hand as a gesture to continue, carelessly walking to his desk as Harry
obediently downed the potion. Immediately, his eyes went blank, and Hermione
watched curiously as he appeared to have an internal battle with himself.
Then his mouth opened, the deep voice full of sorrow stopping the professor in
his tracks.
"If I could speak
A thousand words come to mind
But can't come out
For my enforcer has left me voiceless
But never painless; no, never painless.
The locks on the door reflect my heart
In which nobody holds the key
Nobody cared, that I can see
Silence was a solemn sound that comforted
When no one asked questions
When no one healed the pain
When no one loved without conditions
When no one shunned the shame
When he came and brought the horrors
That haunt me in my sleep
Secrets beneath the glamours
Things that will taint your dreams
They taunt, they blame, they give you nowhere to hide
These are the things I feel inside
So many wounds
So many hurts
But if you complain
You get so much worse.
But this just one world,
The other is just the same.
No one to hold onto
Only myself to blame.
To blame for many lives; gone or at stake
Innocence destroyed by the evil it must take
To feel so filthy; unclean
To feel the hands where they should not be.
Look into my eyes; my hope is gone.
How long until I die?
How long?"
Harry stopped speaking, looking ashamed. He stared at his feet, wishing he
could disappear. Especially after the death part. That wasn't supposed to be
told to anyone, it was Harry Potter's number one secret.
If he had looked up, he would have seen confused faces.
Many of his fellow students didn't understand it, just that it was bad, and
that ultimately confused them. Why would anything bad be happening to their
savior? Hermione and Snape seemed to be the only ones with their mouths dropped
in horror. Hermione looked at him with such sad eyes, whispering, "Oh, Harry...
how long have you been hiding this from us?"
Severus was the first to recover, grasping Harry’s arm and leading him to his
office, Hermione and Ron scurrying to make it in without the door closing on
them to be with their friend. Seconds later the door opens again to reveal
Malfoy, who quickly shuts the door behind him. No one protests his presence,
too focused on Harry.
Snape first decided to dismantle the glamours, not knowing what to expect.
"Revelare!"
The glamours slowly faded, along with the shirt, to reveal the marred back, a
deep black tinged with purple, with different torture marks of every kind.
Burns, welts, lashes of a whip, boot prints, hand prints.... He had it all.
Not even the Dark Lord would do this. Snape blanched at the sight.
"Po-Harry... how could you not tell anyone, child?" he asked.
Harry shifted his gaze to the wall beside him, unwilling to talk. He was shaken
by all of his secrets being revealed, to so many people that just wouldn’t
understand.
Snape kneels beside him, surprisingly gentle with his words. “Harry, we are
only here to help, but in order to help you, we have to know how this
happened.”
Harry’s troubled expression finally gives when Snape uttered the word,
“Please.”
"It's just," he began, struggling to find the proper words, "I felt unhappy and
unloved. I know I'm not loved by the people that mattered to me. I felt sad and
empty, but I also felt silly. I'm the boy-who-lived, so why would I need any of
those things?" He paused. "If I had asked, I surely should have been punished
for being ungrateful for what I've got, even if I don't want it, because
everyone else wants me to want it, so I have to."
He looked at Hermione and Ron, like he was screaming for their help, but with
his eyes.
"I get the belt, you know, for being ungrateful. It was like he knew what I was
thinking."
Snape had a look of horror on his face, and Harry’s two best friends wondered
how they didn’t see. Harry just stared blankly ahead, and Severus knew that
look well. He was living a memory.
His soft voice broke the silence. "I didn't mean to be ungrateful, for the
cupboard, but it just hurt so much, curling into a ball to fit, when you had
gashes on your back, you know?" He snorted. "I doubt it."
"What hurt more was to be sent back, knowingly, every year. I thought
Dumbledore cared. I THOUGHT HE CARED ABOUT ME!" Harry was screaming now, tears
running down his red face, his Adam's apple moving to swallow the lump in his
throat.
Severus didn't want to hear any more. But he had to know what happened. He
caught young Harry's eye.
"Legilimens," he whispered softly.
Then he was in his mind, where the teen was concentrating on trying to block
most, though couldn't for the child was too emotional to even think straight.
It was horrible. A fat, walrus of man - Petunia's husband, he realized - was
ripping the innocence from the child that Severus now held so tenderly in his
arms while he sobbed. The memory was full of pain, misery, disgust, regret, and
shame. The boy was so small, in such a mean, nasty world. He cradled the child
closer, and Harry buried his head in Severus' shoulder, passing out from the
sadness and the pain.
The professor turned towards the other two of the trio. "You knew about this?"
Ron stared at his feet, while Hermione was quick to shake her head about it.
"No, we never…" She stopped when she realized Ron hadn't said anything in his
defense. "Ron...?"
Ron let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry 'Mione. I never realized it was this bad. I
didn't know the extent of it, but I was told to try and keep him at his
relatives, no matter the cause. The only reason we picked him up last time was
that Fred and George took me along. I knew something was iffy, because he had
bars on his window, for Merlin's sake! But..."
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who told you to keep him there?"
Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Dumbledore, actually. Why would he keep him there?"
he asked. Snape snarled. "Why, indeed. Of course, he must have known." He stood
up, carefully picking Harry up bridal style, wincing at the pain this must
cause the small boy.
He turned to Hermione and Ron. "Not like I don't believe you Granger, but I
don't believe you. Yet. You two will stay with Draco,” the two Gryffindors look
at Malfoy with surprise, only just now noticing him, “and wait here. I’ll ask
you questions when I return. Then I will see the Dark Lord, and inform him of
this event." He then turned to the floo, managing to toss the powder even with
Harry in his arms, and shouting, "Albus Dumbledore's office, Cockroach
Clusters!" and disappearing in a flash of green flame.
***** How Great Is The Greater Good? *****
Chapter Summary
     Dumbledore's intentions are revealed.
Harry had soon become very familiar with darkness. And how could he not? He was
surrounded in it every moment - whether it be unconsciousness, the gloominess
of fame, or his secret self destruction - and the dark just endlessly pulsed
around him, making him feel even more hopeless than he could take.
It hurt.
It had hurt from the beginning, and he seemed to remember these moments - each
hit and kick that led him further from being alive.
Didn't he want that? To die?
Maybe.
But his consciousness wouldn't let him go that way. Sure, he wanted to die. But
not like this.
How was he going to die? When? When would it all just be over?
He sighed in relief as he recognized the feeling of the darkness within
darkness, the one that would just let him sleep. No worries, no feelings, no
hurts. Why couldn't Harry just sleep forever?

                                     + + +

Severus Snape remembers the first time he had ever stepped into Albus
Dumbledore's office. He remembers it smelling the same way it does now, like
incense. He remembers the lousy trinkets that he always thought were stupid
(and still does), and he remembers the ridiculous fluffy chairs that had way
too many colors for his liking.
But it was never like this.
There was never the dark feeling that he had now, looming over everything that
once seemed bright, but now dulled. He couldn't believe that Albus knew! But he
could, too, in a way. Albus always kept secrets. For 'the greater good', he
would say. He was so blinded by what he wanted that he would destroy anyone who
got in the way, somehow, with love.
The kind of love that Albus had made Severus sick.
He had, before he left, told the other three students the password for his
quarters, and told them Draco would lead the way. He was satisfied that the
Weasley boy had kept his mouth shut, for once. Granger also didn't make a peep,
out of worry, he suspected.
Silently as he waited for the headmaster, Snape wondered why she became friends
with the two boys that seemed to get into the most trouble. He knew that she
and Weasley had once been in a relationship, though now he knew that he was
dating that just as brainless Gryffindor, Ms. Brown.
Oh well. He could only hope that she was the wiser of the two and chose Draco,
rather than another foolish Gryffindor. Oh yes, he wasn't stupid. He saw the
glances that he wasn't even sure Draco knew he was giving.
He broke from his thoughts as he shifted the child that he was holding. He
looked at Harry softly, sadly, and brushed a bit of messy black hair from his
eyes. How young he looked now, with the tension gone from his face, as if he
wasn't in any pain. Severus knew better than to think that though. But now that
he was looking, Harry reminded Severus so much of another boy that had lived
such a way... Such pain, and no help at all. He would skin the old man alive
for this.
As if hearing his very wishes, Dumbledore apparated into his office, not
noticing company, and sitting down, happily unwrapping a lemon drop and began
sucking on it. It wasn't until after that he noticed that he wasn't alone.
His smile was gone immediately, once he realized just who was in Severus's
arms. He frowned deeply, in fact, asking, "Another accident, my boy?" Severus
gritted his teeth at the name and the stupid question.
"Just who do you think you are?"
Dumbledore looked at him startled. "Whatever do you mean, my boy?"
Snape bristled. "Do not call me that. I am not your boy, and neither is Harry.
You couldn't take care of us when we needed you! I hate to admit that to
anyone, but you need to see that I can speak for myself." His eyes filled with
untamed anger. "You couldn't learn after the first time? Do you remember when I
came to you, every year, begging not to go back, and you just waved me away?!
Did you not remember that, when this boy here did the same damn thing?"
Albus was now grasping at strings. "Don't you hate the boy? When did this
change? He's perfectly fine with the blood wards-"
“Don’t you patronize me!” Severus shouted angrily, his face turning an
unpleasant shade of red.
"You said that you would protect him," Severus said quietly, accusingly.
"The blood wards-"
"The blood wards do not protect him from everything, do they? No. They don't."
He paused. "And I think you knew that. I think you were using it towards your
advantage. All for this war." He paced around the small office, trying to think
of a way to say what he wanted to say to where Albus would understand. He used
a term Albus would be familiar with. "We are not chess pieces, Albus. I think
it's high time you knew that."
He saw Albus trying to come up with something, but it was for naught.
Snape carried the child with him to the door, about to leave, when he briefly
stopped. He barely turned his head when he said, "Once, I was a naive boy that
turned into a bitter man. I was caught between two sides, and eventually, who I
was a spy for was unclear."
"I had a choice," Severus continued, " and I think you've just made my choice
for me." He opened the door, stepped just outside of it when he heard Albus
say, "Please! I never meant for this to happen to him, or you!"
Snape raised his eyebrows in a way only Severus Snape could. "But of course."
Albus gave a small sigh of relief, until Snape said, "No one does. But you are
forgetting another child you have failed, and as such, failed many others by
making him this way."
Albus' brows bunched together in concentration as if he was asking himself who
he forgot.
His eyes widened in realization.
"Tom," he whispered.
Snape gave a short nod before sweeping out of the room with his precious cargo
in his arms.
Albus collapsed into his chair, his head in his hands, wondering how could he
ever fix this?
Meanwhile, Draco, Hermione, and Ron were in Snape's office, oddly silent. Maybe
it was the shock of the situation, or the need to just not fight for once for
their friend, or rather, for Draco, an attempt of making and keeping a
friendship.
However, this silence was broken when Snape burst through the door, Harry held
in his arm like the most fragile thing in the world, and perhaps he was.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The potions professor quickly but gently set him down
on a quickly transfigured couch, rushing to the multiple shelves of potions in
his office, rummaging through them. He muttered under his breath, "Far too
long, why didn't I... Where is that damn healing potion?!"
Hermione, who had heard his muttering, pulled out her wand, saying, "Accio
healing potion!" The potion flew off of the shelf towards her, and she watched
as Snape plucked it out of the air, opening the cap and sniffing it vaguely
before nodding to himself and walking back over to Harry. He opened the boy's
mouth, slowly pouring in the potion, rubbing his throat gently to help Harry
swallow.
He conjured a soft pillow and propped Harry's head up on it. The three others
watched in fascination that Snape could be so gentle. He turned to them, his
face blank of emotion. "We need to get to our ally. He has a far more suitable
healer. Are you coming or going?"
Hermione was the first to step up. "I'll go wherever Harry goes."
Snape glanced at her, then the others. Draco was next, "Me too. Whatever it
takes." They all looked at the last person, Ron. He looked hesitant, wringing
his hands in nervousness. "I.. uh... Yeah? I guess I'll go?" Snape would have
questioned it further but Harry didn't have much time left.
He threw some nearby floo-powder into the fireplace, and said, "Malfoy Manor!"
Draco looked surprised, then a look of realization dawned on him and he jumped
through the flames, intending to find his father to explain.
Ron suddenly went from hesitant to downright fearful. "Malfoy's? Are you trying
to kill us?"
Hermione gave a sigh of exasperation. "Honestly, Ronald. If the Malfoy's can
help Harry, we're going." Ron looked like he was going to protest, but she cut
him off before he even started, "It doesn't matter as long as Harry gets the
help he needs. We don't have time for this. It's your own choice, about which
is more important." With that, she jumps through the flames.
Snape moves taking Harry with him, and just before he goes, he mutters to Ron,
"You'd have half a brain if you'd just listen to her."
When he gracefully walked from the fireplace into the manor, Snape greeted
Hermione, who was waiting patiently. She glanced sadly at the fireplace,
watching as the flames went out, Ron appearing not to have followed.
***** The Arrival *****
Draco rushed through the halls of his home, pure blood etiquette gone as he ran
as quick as he could to his father's study. He knew that Lucius would be there,
it was the time that his father set aside for Ministry paperwork. He could hear
the echoes of his dragon hide boots stomping against the marble floors and knew
that his father would hear him before he got to the door.
Sure enough, Lucius Malfoy was waiting for him at the doorway of his private
study, giving Draco a surprised look. "Draco, aren't you supposed to be at
Hogw-"
"Father! In the foyer," Draco interrupted, hands on his knees, catching his
breath. "Sev's here with me, we need a Healer." Lucius' eyes widened. "Are you
okay? Is he okay? Where are you hurt?" The questions all came pouring out as he
checked Draco over for injuries. Draco pushed his hands away as he breathed
out, "Not me, or Sev. Harry."
"Harry? Harry Potter?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "No, Harry Houdini. Yes, Harry Potter! Go!"
Lucius sucked in a breath. "I'll go get Tom, while I'm at it."
Draco was already running back to the foyer as he yelled back, "You do that!"
                                     + + +
When he got back to the foyer, he saw Snape and Harry over on a nearby
loveseat, Snape holding Harry's hand (the one that wasn't broken), and
Hermione...
She was still over by the floo, tears streaming down her face.
He had come to think of Hermione as at least a friend over the few hours and
sighed before going to comfort her. He walked over reaching out to her, but
then thought better of it, letting his hand drop. "Hey... hey, it's going to be
okay," he said tentatively. She sobbed even louder, and in one sudden movement,
she flung herself into his arms. He held her as she cried into his shirt,
rubbing her back soothingly. Her words were muffled as she cried, "How could he
leave Harry like this?!"
He pulled back from her, grasping her shoulders firmly, and even though he
hated to say it, "Things aren't always what they look like. Just keep that in
mind, Hermione." She looked up, her eyes red and puffy, and smiled brokenly at
him. She backed up a bit and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Thanks, Draco."
She looked around at the area since arriving. She walked over to a portrait
that was against a dark coffee table, an elegant man dressed in emerald green
robes fit for a king, a golden S.S. engraved on the frame. "Salazar Slytherin,"
she whispered, running her fingers over the painting. She turned to Draco, "I
thought there was nothing left of him?" Draco looked at the painting. "Oh, him.
Yeah, our Lord brought it with him when he came here. He never talks, though he
is a portrait." Her hand dropped. "Oh," she said softly.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, Lucius Malfoy, a man with black hair and red
eyes, and a healer came rushing in. The red eyed man seemed to recognize Harry
immediately, exclaiming, "Harry!" and rushing to his side. The healer took to
work immediately, casting charms and spells and administering potions. This
continued for a length of time. It seemed to take hours to Hermione, waiting to
see if her friend would make it. Draco sat next to her, holding her hand for
comfort, and she squeezed it tightly. She studied the man now holding Harry's
hand, before turning to Draco and whispering, "Who is that?" Draco looked down
at her surprised. "You didn't know?" Her brows furrowed. "Know what?"
Draco gestured back to the red-eyed man. "Who else could it be?" She raised an
eyebrow. "What, do you mean to say that he's Vol-" She gasped. "Really?" she
asked. Draco nodded. "Try to remember that not everything is always as it
seems. Give him a chance." She frowned, but nodded, going back to waiting for
the healer to be finished.
Snape and the healer took turns healing Harry, letting their magical cores rest
for a bit before getting back to work.
Eventually, the healer sat down, exhausted, announcing, "It is done. I have
healed what I can. The rest will have to heal on its own."
After Harry was taken to his chambers, still sleeping, Voldemort turned to
Hermione and Draco. "Young Malfoy, I presume there should be no trouble for her
to room with you until another room is prepared?" Draco looked at Hermione, who
shrugged. "Of course not, My Lord." He gazed between the two and sharply
nodded. "Good. I must be off." And just like that, he was walking away.
Draco turned to Hermione. "Well, if you'll follow me, my good lady?" She gave a
tiny smile, holding out her hand. He pulled her up and along the halls to his
bedroom.
It was elegant and large, Hermione noticed. It was neat, and the color went
well with everything. Though he was a Malfoy, she supposed. The color scheme
was black and silver, though there were hints of green, like the tassels on the
window drapes. There was a writing desk in the corner, and the carpet was a
nice cream color. Eyes skimming over the room, her eyes stopped on the bed. It
was a queen, with curtains much like the Hogwarts beds. She blushed like crazy
when she came across the inevitable question.
"Um, who's going to sleep where?" Out of the corner of her eye, she could see
Draco was blushing too. "Well I-I can take the floor...?" She shook her head
furiously. "Don't be silly! Despite the carpet looking pretty comfy I can't
imagine it actually being nice to sleep on." Draco let out an exasperated sigh.
"Well I'm not letting you sleep on the floor either, so what do you want to
do?" She blushed brightly. "We.. can share...maybe? I mean, I'm okay with it if
you are..." He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I-I don't mind." They
just stood there staring at each other for a few minutes before Draco broke his
gaze.
"Well, I have to change. Do you want to, or...?" Hermione shook her head. "I'm
fine." He nodded distractedly, clearing his throat. "Okay then. Ladies first?
I'll be back in a bit. I'm just going to go get ready for bed." She nodded,
looking at the bed. He left, and after staring at the bed for a few more
seconds sighed and got under the covers, asleep in just a few short minutes.
This is how Draco found her, curled up on one side of his bed, breathing
softly. He smiled to himself, gently getting on his side of the bed and
adjusting the covers.
A few minutes later Hermione was snuggled into his side, both sleeping
peacefully.
                                     + + +
Back at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall was scolding Dumbledore in the office. He
wasn't paying any attention, of course, he was wallowing in his thoughts.
Could he give up his plans? Everything he had ever worked for, no matter how
wrong it seemed to others, wasted?
No, no he couldn't do that.
So what did he have to do? Get rid of any obstacles in the way, so, getting rid
of Snape and the Dark Lord, as originally planned. Though, he mused, he might
have to get rid of McGonagall if she didn't shut up about all the wrongs he's
done. He knows the wrongs he's done. He knows he couldn't possibly pay the
debts he owes. He also knows he has nothing to lose.
Dumbledore, despite everything, was in his office moving his chess pieces.
After all, it was for the Greater Good, right?
***** Change of View *****
When Harry woke he felt refreshed. He stretched, opening his eyes, and-
Where am I? Harry wondered. The last thing he remembered was… confessing his
childhood to Snape, of all people. He groaned,
He got off the bed gingerly only to realize he didn't need to. He felt better
than he had in months! Years! He knew Snape had done some part of it, wincing
at the aftertaste of different potions. He twisted around to look at his back
before he gave a frustrated grunt and went off in search of a bathroom for a
mirror. In the room he was currently in, there were three doors. Just as he was
about to twist the door knob open to the first one, a voice called out, "You
don't want to do that!" He turned around, startled, his hand drawing back like
it had been burned. He was confused to see no one there. "Who said that?" he
asked warily, wishing he had his wand with him. He felt unprotected, exposed.
"Calm, boy, up here."
Harry looked up at the mantle on the fireplace, where a huge portrait was
occupying the space. The man in it looked annoyed, muttering under his breath
in parseltongue. "You speak parseltongue? Can you tell me where I am?" Harry
asked him, surprised. The man was drawn out of his muttering, blinking in
surprise. "A speaker? I see why Tom keeps you around, now."
Tom? Harry thought. He glared at the portrait. "Who is Tom?" The man looked at
him intrigued. "You don't know?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Haven't you heard? I'm
Harry Potter, the one that's never told anything," he said sullenly. The
portrait chuckled and switched to English. "Salazar Slytherin, at your service.
Fear not, I'll tell you anything you'd like to know." Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Anything?" The man nodded. "Anything for a speaker." Harry sighed in relief.
"Good. Where can I find a bathroom?"
The portrait looked baffled at his choice of question before chuckling again
and pointing to the door closest to the huge black bed in the center of the
room. Harry headed straight for it, closing the door behind him. The bathroom
was huge, with a huge bath, possibly bigger than the prefects, a toilet, and a
large mirror on one side of the wall. Perfect, he thought. He walked slowly to
the mirror until he was nervously standing in front of it. He took off the
nightshirt he was dressed in, briefly wondering who's it was, and gasped as he
looked in the mirror.
Everything was gone.
Every scar, every carving, every little bruise, gone. Like magic, he thought
ironically. Harry smiled so wide his face hurt, rushing out of the bathroom.
Who could he possibly thank for this? Who was responsible for it? Who healed
him?
He looked up at Salazar, voicing his questions.
The portrait smiled at him. “Severus did most of it. But I believe that Tom had
one of the best healers in Britain attend to you.”
Harry frowned. “Why would Tom care that much? Unless…” his eyes widened. “Do
you mean Tom Riddle? Voldemort?” Salazar rolled his eyes. “That silly name. Not
one of his best choices. Either way, here we call him Tom.”
“What, so he’s nice to all of you?! He’s a murderer! He killed my parents and
he keeps trying to kill me for some fucking reason. He’s the reason I had to be
healed in the first pl-” Harry’s rant was cut off by a low grumble from the
portrait. “I would not be so quick to judge, boy.”
Harry cowered, briefly wishing he could see Salazar’s aura. “Sorry,” he said
meekly. “But it’s true,” he offered quietly.
Salazar sighed. “Yes, it’s true. All of the very unfortunate events that came
to pass are his fault. But there are things you do not know, child.”
“Who cares?” Harry asked. “He can’t keep me here. I will escape. I’m dealing
with enough, and I don’t need this. Tell him to try and kill me later.”
Harry doesn’t even bother listening to the portrait when he turns the other
door handle, stepping out into the manor.
                                     + + +
Voldemort was exhausted. He would never admit it to anyone, but worrying over
Harry's health had him this way. Hell, he didn't even know when Potter became
Harry. Maybe it was after he had reabsorbed his horcruxes (other than Nagini,
as it was only a small piece and that he couldn't bring himself to kill her).
And that had been the most exhausting part. Soon after the Tri-Wizard
Tournament, after being resurrected, after finding out he didn't have a nose,
his head had cleared a bit and he had realized what he had done. None of the
things that he had been doing for the past decade or so were any of his
original goals, twisted by the insanity of splitting his soul.
He had immediately set out to fix things, recruiting people the proper way,
telling them his real goals, and getting rid of the crazy ones. That meant
getting rid of Bellatrix... but something was holding him back. Maybe it was
because he pitied her, or that she was only following his orders because she
didn't have enough mind of her own to disagree, but he got her some personal
mind healers and stuck her in a room for a while. They reported that it would
at least be three days until she would be stable-minded, and it made him wonder
who he was going to see when she came back. He had kept the other Lestrange’s
too, seeing as they swore to his original goal again. The Malfoy’s had never
strayed, despite the danger that it could bring from disobeying him, and Tom
honored Lucius for it. Severus, as well, for playing the risky spy when in
reality Tom shouldn't have worried that much over what the Light was doing.
He couldn't believe he had gone after a baby because of a bloody prophecy! He
was even more upset when he found out that the prophecy was told by a drunkard.
He sat at his old throne, deep in thought when Nagini slithered up to him.
"Master," she greeted.
Tom sighed. "I am not your master, Nagini. It is wrong to imprison you so. I
only hope to be your friend." Her tongue flickered out, only tasting the truth.
She decided to be blunt. "You are a fool, Tom. Attacking a hatchling!? One of
yours, no less," she chastised. Tom sat up. "Mine?" he asks.
"He smells like you," she says simply. He stared at her dumbfounded. "What do
you mean, he smells like me? He's not... my son, you mean? I'm much too old for
that." She gave a hiss. "No, he's not. He smells... of me, in a way. But like a
potential mate." Tom rolled his eyes. "You're not setting me up with Harry.
He's been through too much," he says with a bit of sadness. "But..." he
drawls, "it looks like I have another horcrux."
Saying it out loud made it feel a lot more real. A human horcrux.
He was done with that though, wasn't he?
He sighed. He may be done with that life but he damn well wasn't going to kill
Harry to try and get past his demons.
He already owed that boy so much. He would do anything to protect him.
"Tom? I just want to let you know that I'm happy you're back." Tom gave a
barely there smile, but an honest one. "Me too."
Suddenly he felt shock and terror flow through an open connection in his mind,
and on instinct, he got up from his throne and rushed to Harry's room.
 
***** The Attack *****
"Well, this sucks," Harry muttered.
Currently, he was trapped between his door and a Death Eater, at wand-point.
The man didn't have the mask, but he could see the dark mark on his arm, which
he didn't bother to keep covered. He obviously didn't know the man all that
well, given that he didn't have an aura.
That portrait was right. He did not want to open that door.
But, as always, his 'recklessness' and 'Gryffindor idiocy' made him go out
there anyway. Maybe Snape was onto something. The hallway was dark, few
portraits there, and he could see Salazar hissing to him in parseltongue in a
borrowed frame, but he couldn't hear him over the pounding of blood in his
ears. The man in front of him had dark hair and deep brown angry eyes. His face
was angry too, which in Harry's opinion made him ugly. Anger makes people ugly.
He was brought out of his thoughts by snarled words, "AVADA KED-" Harry closed
his eyes, waiting for the worst. He had last thoughts, last words in mind,
about his parents, and surprisingly, he thought about the Dursley's -of their
dark, distrustful auras with varying shades of hatred- and had a strange
feeling of acceptance. A lone tear fell from his face, and in that moment time
had slowed, and Harry felt that he could hear the tear splash on the floor.
"Expelliarmus!"
Harry was released, thrown roughly to the floor, and he could vaguely hear a
wand clatter to the floor. He curled in on himself, eyes still closed tightly,
breathing in deep breaths quickly, sinking into his basic instincts. Then he
heard the deadly voice whisper out, "What is the meaning of this?" The end of
the sentence had a slight hiss to it, and Harry knew there was only one voice
like that. He opened his eyes in a flash, scrambling away as fast as possible.
Voldemort still had his snake image, his eyes blood red, his nose nonexistent,
anger emitting from him. "The boy is mine! He is to be alive, Dolohov! How dare
you disobey my orders directly!" He glared at the man, causing him to flinch.
"Crucio!" The death eater crumbled to the ground, writhing in agony, his nerves
on fire, kind of like the fire in Voldemort's eyes. Harry couldn't stand it. He
closed his eyes again, hands clamped over his ears, muttering nonsense in an
attempt to block out the screams that reminded him much of his own. He didn't
hear when it was over, the final words that ended Dolohov's life, he was too
busy trying to put a wall between him and everything else.
He didn't notice when Voldemort's appearance changed, or when he hurried
towards Harry worriedly.
"'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry-" Harry said it like a prayer, frantically. Tom
took Harry's hands off his ears and held them gently, twirling his thumb gently
on the boy's palm. "Harry! Harry, it's over!" Tom kept trying to get his
attention, coaxing him to open his eyes. Salazar watched over the pair, eyes
wide. Harry shook his head, still murmuring apologies, trying to tug his hands
away from Tom with his eyes still closed. He wasn't very successful, but it
broke the Dark Lord's heart to see him like this. It reminded him of when they
brought Harry here, covered in bruises, and even though he was knocked out, he
still didn't look like he was at peace.
"Please? Come on Harry, let me see those eyes." Tom could see them flutter,
then he heard footsteps running through the hall, and they were closed tightly
again. He growled, turning towards the sound, only to find Severus and Lucius
running forward. He could see Severus' eyes widen instantly, rushing to get to
Harry. Lucius walked forward cautiously, still not knowing what Harry really
meant to the Dark Lord. As soon as Severus' deep baritone echoed throughout the
hallway, Harry's eyes opened, scooting towards the man. He looked around with
wide eyes, his gaze falling onto the hand Tom was still holding, but he didn't
pull away this time. His head tilted slightly to the right.
"Tom?" he whispered. The man nodded cautiously, knowing that in Harry's fragile
state, one wrong move could ruin everything.
Unknowingly to him, Harry was staring at his aura, which had changed. It used
to kind of look like static on the telly, like he wasn't all there, tainted
with a bit of red at the sides. Now, it was a light gray, kind of silver, and
where Tom's hand joined his, it was just as white as the Weasley twins.
The boy turned his head into Severus' robes, but Tom could hear a shaky, "Thank
you," coming from Harry. Tom gave a small smile, getting up, and said to
Lucius, "Tell Draco he is to be sharing with Harry. Give the girl her own room,
she'll need her privacy." Lucius gave a sharp nod and left. Severus gently
picked up Harry, who was exhaustively sleeping in his arms. "Shall I..?" Tom
gave a nod, waving a hand in a 'lead the way' gesture.
In Draco's room, Snape laid Harry on the bed, warning Draco to not frighten him
when he woke and to pass the news that they were not to leave the room until
either Lucius, Tom, or Severus said to.
                                     + + +
When Harry woke, he was in yet another unfamiliar room.
He turned and stretched in the comfortable bed, freezing when his arm knocked
into something. Someone, his mind corrected. "AHHH!" He jumped off the bed, or
rather, fell off of it, also managing to kick the other person off the bed. He
saw a flash of white-blonde hair.“Malfoy?”
He backed against the wall in caution, watching as a drowsy Draco sat up,
rubbing his eyes. The slytherin squinted in Harry's direction, eyes widening
when he realized it was Harry. "Harry? What time is it?" Harry looked at him
confusedly. Since when did they become friends? A flash of Draco on the train
crossed his mind. He answered, "I don't know. I don't have my wand." Draco
frowned. "Why not?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know anything, really." He looked around
the room, which was mostly black and silver. "Is this your room?" Draco looked
up. "Hm? Oh, yeah." Harry got up and sat back down on the bed, Draco doing the
same. Harry's brows furrowed. "Why does it smell like Hermione?" Draco stared
at him oddly. "You can smell her?"
"Yeah, I've been friends with her long enough to know what she smells like,"
Harry said in a 'duh' tone. "Oh. Well, she stayed in here last night. Just
sleeping!" Draco added after Harry frowned at him. "Well then," Harry said as
he leaned back to lay down again, "Where'd she go?" Draco lay down with him.
"Dad gave her another room."
They lay there in silence for a while, just thinking.
Harry broke the silence. "So how long are we supposed to just stay in here?"
"Well, given what happened last time," Harry grimaced at the memory, " we're
supposed to stay until either Tom, Dad, or Uncle Severus comes to get us."
Harry groaned. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
Draco hesitated. "We could... learn more about each other?" Harry thought it
over. It seemed like a good idea. Draco was being nice, at the very least, so
they might as well get to know each other. "Okay. How do we start?"
"How about we tell the other person something that may not know about the
other? Then vice-versa, I guess." Harry racked his mind and found nothing.
"Um... My favorite color is actually green? Dark emerald green though," he
quickly adds, shuddering at the thought of the vomit green of Vernon Dursley.
Draco laughed. "Typical. My favorite color is not red, however. Mine is black."
Harry's nose scrunched up. "What's wrong with black?" Draco asked defensively.
"Nothing, " Harry said slowly, "it just means something different to me." He
changed the subject. "I don't like girls," he admitted, going on with the game.
Draco reared back in shock. "Really?" Seeing the look on Harry's face, he said,
"Nothing against you, of course. I had a crush on Seamus once, so..." he was
rambling at this point, and then he realized what he said and covered his
mouth. It was too late for Draco by now, because Harry was holding his sides,
shaking with laughter. "S-Seamus? Oh, that's too funny!" Draco did his famous
pout. "It was the accent, okay?" At this Harry burst into laughter again.
Once he got a hold of himself, he said, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, that wasn't
nice." He giggled one last time. Draco smiled. "It's okay. But I thought you
liked Ginny?" Harry made a choking noise. "What? No, no no no no no. She's like
my sister! I mean, she doesn't think that probably, but she'll live, I hope."
Draco snorted. "Who do you like, then?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Right now?
No one." At Draco's disbelieving expression, he explains, "I haven't had the
time for such a thing. And I’m not sure I can, after…" He trailed off, a dark
expression shadowing his face. Draco’s matching expression says that he knows
what he meant.
"Maybe one day," Harry said thoughtfully.
"Maybe," Draco echoed.
Harry turned to him. "You know about my family... what is yours like? Anything
I've ever heard about your family is that you're filthy death eaters." Draco's
face fell at the term. "Well, Father's not like that. He's wonderful, and he's
kind. In public he's not, but... I guess things got a little too deep to crawl
out of. But he tries to make it up to me. He doesn't yell at me for no reason
or anything like that. He's a good person," Draco finished meekly. "But
Mother... She's just as awful as they say she is. She married Father for his
money, even though she inherited a fortune from the Black's. He doesn't deserve
that." His head hung in shame at his mother in blood. "I barely know her.
Lucius raised me, not her. I... I don't really have a mother, I guess."
Harry looked at him with kind and understanding eyes. "I'm sorry. For what it's
worth, you turned out pretty okay in the end. Even with our past... I'd say
you and your father are very admirable people." Draco gave him a little glance.
"You can't say that. You've never really known Father or me." Harry shook his
head. "No, this is your home, isn't it? He let me stay here, and you, we've had
this whole conversation all evening and not once did I think of you negatively.
Not once did you call me Potter, or treat me rudely. You still want to be my
friend even with all that you know about me, which means a lot to me. I think I
can fairly say that you’re both good people.”
Draco smiled down at his lap, then at Harry. “Thanks.”
Harry nodded slowly, distracted and awed by the way Draco’s aura was lightening
rapidly into a light sky blue.
Draco noticed that he wasn’t paying attention. “Harry?”
“Hm?” he replied dazedly.
“Are you-” Draco’s interrupted by Harry’s question, “Why is it blue?”
Draco looked at him completely baffled. “Why is what blue?”
Harry looks a bit more sheepish now, remembering that Draco can’t see what he
sees. “Your aura. It’s blue. You’re happier, so it’s lighter now, but it’s
still blue. Why is that?”
Draco blushes but is curious about Harry’s ability. “I don’t know. I mean, I
like blue, I guess.” Harry’s already shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. I
think… I think it’s just your color. That’s sort of strange though…” Draco
tilted his head. “Why is it strange?” Harry sits up straighter. “Well, I see
love in people I’m close to. That’s how this whole color thing works. Some
people have colors that explain who they are and what they’ve been through when
it comes to love. For example,” Harry continues, making vague hand expressions
as he talks, “the Weasley twins. Their aura is white. That’s because they love
me, for me, and they love me a whole lot.” Harry smiles brightly to himself as
he thinks about it. “Or Snape, his aura is black.” Draco looked at him,
interested. “What does black mean?” Here, Harry grimaces. “Well, when he lost
Lily - my mom - he sort of... had no love left to give anyone, and certainly
not to me. The black signifies the hopelessness he feels.” Draco winces. “No
wonder you don’t like black.”
“I hate green more,” Harry mutters absently.
“Why?” Draco asks. “I thought green was your favorite color.”
Harry went silent for a moment before saying in almost a whisper, “After what
happened, green wasn’t just green anymore. There were so many greens.
Like… vomit green.”
Draco silently mouths, “after what happened,” before realizing what he’s
talking about.
“Oh,” he says softly.
“I hope you never have to see vomit green ever again, Harry.”
He turns to thank Draco, and he realizes that over this short conversation,
Draco’s aura has gotten to almost be white. It’s still tinted blue, but Harry
thinks that maybe that’s just who Draco is, the hope that he holds inside his
heart. He smiles at him. “The white makes it better, in the end.”
 
***** Not What You Think *****
Chapter Notes
     I may have animagus Harry in this chapter, but I'm not sure yet.
     We'll see. But someone (stormshadow13) mentioned Rabastan and
     Rudolphus Lestrange.... you're welcome. Hope you like it!
     Also, PLEASE READ THIS:
     Someone asked what the colors that Harry sees meant, and I'm just
     going to sum it up so that if you already didn't check before, you
     don't have to.
     Harry doesn't see auras that portray every single feeling of another
     person. If I remember correctly, he was 'sensitive to the magic of
     love' which gave off a white aura, with different tints to it
     sometimes to express something about that person or how that person
     felt. So, love in general, but only about people that are majorly
     involved in his life. For example, Draco is his arch nemesis, Snape
     is his most hated teacher, and Voldemort is his enemy (in canon).
     They're still large parts of his life so he can see their auras. But
     the auras aren't just general feelings, they center around love.
     Like, Snape's aura is black because he has no love left to share
     after Lily died.
     The aura wouldn't change if Snape were angry because it had nothing
     to do with his love with Lily. Does that make sense? Cool.
     On we go now, after that long ass author's note.
 
Harry woke up to a gentle knocking at the door, hearing the door squeak a
little bit as it opened completely. He sat up quickly, shaking Draco awake, who
sat up slowly asking hoarsely, "What's wrong, Harry?"
"Somebody's here," he replied, gripping the sheets tightly as his face paled.
Draco's eyes widened as he grabbed his wand and maneuvered himself in front of
Harry defensively, shaking a bit, but determined to protect his friend.
They could both see two big shadows in the doorway and could hear murmured
voices getting closer, closing in on them, and Harry was quaking with fear at
this point. Suddenly, the shadows groaned in pain. They heard Hermione say,
"Stop it, you're scaring them! Draco's going to hex you into next week!" The
light flickered on and Harry could see two men dressed in green robes, both
dark haired and quite tall, holding their stomachs in pain, where Harry assumed
Hermione elbowed them. (He would know, many nights of not studying would often
earn Ron and him an elbowing from her). Draco relaxed immediately, which gave
Harry the impression that the men were people he could trust. "You idiots," he
scolded, holding his hand over his heart. "You scared Harry and me to death!"
Draco turned to Hermione. "Did they scare you too?" Hermione glared at the
grown twins as she said, "Yes, fortunately for them, I only hit them with an
extreme tickling charm."
The pair apparently had the decency to look sheepish, then introduced
themselves, "I'm Rabastan Lestrange," the first one said, the man that had a
patch of hair beneath his lower lip, the same dark brown color as his chin-
length tresses. Harry noticed he had a thinner face than the other brother, who
introduced himself as Rodolphus Lestrange, and that Rodolphus also had a beard
rather than just the one patch of facial hair, though he also had the chin
length hair in the same brown shade.
Neither had auras. Harry assumed it was what the normal reason was - he didn’t
know them yet.
He asked the first question on his mind. "Are you related to Bellatrix?"
Rabastan laughed. "Only by marriage." Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh. So
you're…?" He heard a deep chuckle come from Rodolphus. "No, that would be me,"
he said, and Harry had to laugh at the wrinkle of disgust that Rabastan wore at
the implication that he was married to his sister-in-law. Then the Death Eater
perked up, exclaiming, "Hey, I bet that means we're related!" Harry's brow
furrowed in confusion. "How?"
"Well," he replied, "you see, Harry, Bella is your godfather's cousin, and I'm
willing to bet that he blood adopted you, which would make you related to us
through marriage." Harry flinched at the reminder of his dead godfather, but he
wondered about blood adoption. "I don't remember him blood adopting me…" he
said quietly. "He probably did it when you were a baby," Rodolphus said as he
leaned against the wall. "Anyway," he continued, "we should probably take you
to the foyer like we were ordered to before Snape curses us." Harry nodded and
the five got up from their places and started for the foyer, where Snape was
waiting.
"Finally. It only took you a couple centuries to find your way here," Snape
drawled, his black aura flickering, and despite hearing the obvious disdain in
his voice, Harry didn't mind it. Sitting in the leather chairs that were
provided, he saw that Lucius and Tom were also there, along with a woman with
wildly curled hair. She tensed as she spotted him, but Tom saw it and shook his
head sharply. She glanced at him warily but did not move. Harry eyed her
curiously but did not make any movements toward her either.
"So as you know," Snape began, "I was asked by Tom to go back to the school, to
fool Dumbledore and decide what to do about the children's education…"
                                     + + +
Snape prowled the halls of Hogwarts, just having gotten back from Malfoy Manor,
making his way to the dungeons. He would have to brood and find a good excuse
for taking Harry and two other students out of his class to an unknown location
without the old fool's permission (that's if Dumbledore even knew), but he
wasn't a spy for nothing, and he would find a reasonable answer.
Just as he gets into his personal quarters, the floo fires up. 'Dammit, I need
more time.'
"Severus!" he heard the old man call.
He relaxed his face into a familiar mask and strode to the fireplace. "Yes,
Albus?"
"I need to ask a favor of you," he says, his eyes twinkling so much that
Severus could determine it from the crackling flames.
'Oh no, here it comes…"
"I happen to have a potion that I need to be made, and it has to be made very
specifically. It's ancient, of course, and very rare, I doubt that even you
would have heard of it,-"
"Get on with it, Albus," he snarled, angered at the implication that he
couldn't handle it, and of course, if it was rare it was almost certainly
dangerous, and most likely meant for Harry.
"Yes, well, even due to the circumstances, I have every confidence that you can
make it perfectly, and it is urgent that you do. It is very important for the
Greater Good."
And there it was, the Greater Good. Definitely involving Harry. "But of
course," he said smoothly, his face not betraying any emotions. Dumbledore
obviously had plans for this potion, so it wouldn't matter if he said no, he
would get someone else to make it, even though the potion wouldn't be the best.
Severus would rather be in the know, than not.
"That's wonderful, Severus!"
Dumbledore gave him a parchment with the ingredients and the directions, all of
the more complicated types, but he did have all the ingredients he needed,
surprisingly. There was no name for it, not on the parchment, but as he was
halfway through the potion, he realized what it was. What on Earth is he
planning to do with a soul mate potion? Immediately, the answer came to him.
Dumbledore would do anything to get control back over Potter, or in this case,
even more, control than he thinks he has, and in order to do that,
he would hold Harry's soul mate against him.
Who does he think he is? That's against every old rule that ever existed.
Then again, if anyone could get away with it, it'd be him.
As he neared the end of the potion, he noticed the last ingredient was the hair
from the chosen recipient of the potion. Obviously, he would need Harry's hair,
though he wouldn't be getting it from him anytime soon, so why-
Then he noticed that at the bottom of the parchment was a lock of hair, stuck
with a sticking charm. A quick flick of his wand told him it was indeed Harry's
hair, so he added it to the potion and stirred clockwise six times, then let it
simmer. When it turned a bright white color, he knew it was done and he quickly
turned off the heat. He took a metal ladle and poured some into an unbreakable
vial, putting the stopper in immediately.
Snape paused.
'Who is Harry's soul mate?'
He took the vial and stored it away in his robes, then went the potions
cupboard, taking out another white potion and holding it up. It wasn't the same
potion, but it would fool Albus long enough for him to get away. It was obvious
the children couldn't come back, as the Headmaster's meddling had become too
dangerous. They would have to teach them at the manor. He left the fake vial on
the lab counter where he knew the old man would find it, and then he flooed to
Malfoy Manor.
                                     + + +
"...And that's all I know, my Lord." Severus held out the vial for Tom to take,
and he did, staring at it intensely before giving it to Harry. "It is yours,
little one." Harry looked over at Tom curiously, wondering why he would give it
to him at all. As he turned the vial in his hand, another part of him wondered
about the potion itself, how it worked and what the result might be. Tom
nodded, satisfied, before saying, "The children will be taught here; we can't
have them unprepared for anything that might happen. I'll sort out who is to
teach what, and we will begin tomorrow." There were nods and murmurs of
agreement across the room.
The conversation is interrupted by the fireplace glowing a bright green, the
adults scrambling to get up and armed, putting the children out of harm's way.
Tom was about to hex whoever was coming, when Hermione shouts, "Wait!" Everyone
freezes as she runs to the fireplace, just as a red-head comes out. "Ron!"
Harry can see him stumbling, and he sees that the fireplace is still glowing.
"Weasley! Were you being tailed?" Snape demands. He shakes his head no, and
chokes out, "Friends, they're friends." This is proven when Neville Longbottom
comes out of the floo, followed by Luna Lovegood, the Weasley twins, and
lastly, surprisingly, Blaise Zabini, who immediately goes to stand by Draco,
while the others stood awkwardly by the floo. Hermione hugs Ron closer he
slowly comes back around and helps him stand. "Sorry about that, Dumbledore got
a bit nosy. We barely made it out." Snape glares at him. "You fool! Did he hear
where you were going?!" Luna answered for him. "I made sure that he didn't.
Muffling charm, you see," she says in an airy tone. "There were too many
nargles for him to break it." Snape took that statement as "He was too angry
and distracted to do anything competently."
Ron, now steady, gently takes Hermione's hands and moves them away from him.
"I'm fine, 'Mione." She smiles at him. "I'm really glad you came. And I'm glad
you did this for Harry." He blushes up to his roots. "It's fine, really.
Harry's my best mate. I would do anything for him," he says as he turns to
Harry. Harry feels genuine joy at his words and notices that at this moment,
now, the gray that had taken over Ron's aura faded away, leaving a bright
color, not entirely white, but a hell of a lot lighter than before. It was like
watching the clouds clear away from the sky after a long rain.
It felt good.
Harry watched as Draco strolled up to Ron, and grimaced. But instead of insults
being traded, he saw the young Malfoy give Harry a cautious glance before
turning back to Ron and saying, "Thank you. For bringing Blaise, I mean. It
means a lot." Ron looked at him bewildered. "You're welcome, I guess. I mean, I
don't really know why I brought him along. He was just kind of standing in the
halls while we were running and I kind of dragged him with us. He tried to hex
me," Blaise smirked, "until I told him I was just taking him to you. I mean,
I've seen you hang out together, but I wasn't entirely sure..." Draco shuffled,
uncomfortable with a Weasley being nice to him. "Yes, well… thanks."
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lucius stand up, and clear his throat.
All eyes turn to him. "I think it would be acceptable to find rooms for all of
you? I have plenty to go around. After, I believe we should take Harry to
Gringotts, get some things sorted." Tom nodded in agreement. "Though before
anything can be done, I believe the inner circle that is here with us at your
manor need to be informed that Harry is not a threat, and get rid of the ones
who insist on trying to kill him." Snape sneered. "I can do that, My Lord."
Tom looked at him in faint amusement. "Yes, you certainly can."
Soon everyone was settled in, Harry getting moved back into his old room, and
everyone else getting their own room, Lucius gently knocked on Harry's door. A
half second later the door was open and the boy was standing there, ready to
go. As they walked down the halls to the foyer, Harry asked, "What exactly are
we going to Gringotts for?" Lucius turned his head barely in his direction as
he answered, "We are going to see about what you have inherited. Vaults,
bloodlines, properties."
"Oh," whispered Harry. Lucius turned and smiled a bit as they stopped in front
of the floo. "I don't bite, Harry," he said in amusement. He watched as the boy
jumped, eyeing him warily. "Well, of-... of course not, I'm just… not…"
"Used to being with a Malfoy and not have them hate you?" Harry nodded hastily
in agreement. Lucius hummed. "Well, that's quite alright, I'm not used to
having a Potter, alive, in my manor." He busied himself with getting the floo
powder from the top of the fireplace, seeing as how Harry himself was too short
to reach. "Now, we'll be going to the Leaky Cauldron, then to Gringotts, and
you'll need a disillusionment charm so none of the Order, or anyone else, for
that matter, can see you."
Lucius cast the charm and readied the floo, having Harry go first, then himself
so that it wouldn't be as suspicious to have the floo go off and no one coming
out of it, as long as the charm was in place. Not long after, Harry was staring
up at the large white building of Gringotts, curious to what awaited him
inside.
 
***** Gringotts and Shocks *****
Chapter Summary
     Harry finds out some stuff.
     Snape and Voldy bond a bit.
Chapter Notes
     Thank you all for waiting patiently!
     RavenWalking (who doesn't have an account that I could link you to)
     contributed to this chapter a lot, tysm hun! :)
     Sorry to inform you of this, but all the other fanfiction sites got
     this chapter yesterday. For some reason, AO3 wasn't wanting to
     upload...
Gringotts was reasonably busy this afternoon, and Harry had a hard time keeping
up with Lucius as he briskly walked to one of the counters. The goblin gave a
toothy sneer, but Lucius would not be deterred. “We need to speak to the Potter
family goblin to discuss Harry’s inheritance.” The creature raised an eyebrow
before standing up and leaning over the counter to get a good look at the small
Potter. He sat back down. “Key?” He asked in a high-pitched, nasally voice.
Lucius looked down at Harry, who was digging in his pockets. Soon he found the
key and reached up to give it to the goblin, standing on his tiptoes and
cursing his height.
The goblin snatched the key from him, nearly scratching him. Harry held his
nearly-flayed arm close to him while the goblin inspected the little gold key.
Lucius grimaced down at Harry’s arm, before turning to the goblin. “We would
like to request a new key. I have reasons to suspect that Albus Dumbledore is
taking gold from the Potter vault without authorization.” At this the goblin
looked up sharply, giving a malicious, snaggle-toothed grin. “Is he now? Well,”
he sneered, “I guess that needs to be dealt with, then. I am Jaggard,” said the
goblin, introducing himself. “Follow me, please.”
Jaggard hopped down from his desk and walked around it, opening the divider and
waiting for them to step through it before letting it swing shut.
They are brought to an office, elegant as the rest of the bank, and of course,
at the desk sits a goblin. “Griphook!” Harry exclaims. “You’re the Potter
goblin?” The goblin is startled to hear his name but soon recognizes the child.
“Mr. Potter? You… remember me?” he asks, shocked. Harry’s brows furrow. “Of
course I remember you, it wasn’t that long ago. Only… 4 years, right?” Griphook
shook out of his stupor. “Of course, of course. It’s just that… well, not many
people remember us Goblin-folk. Please, have a seat.”
Harry sat first, Lucius hesitating before doing the same.
“Now,” Griphook says, “getting down to business here. Harry has several things
that we now need to go over with him, after receiving the information of a
possible thief,” he spits out the word like its ashes on his tongue, “we have
reason to believe that any other important information regarding Harry might
have been tampered with or never properly received by Mr. Potter.” He pulls out
a blank piece of parchment and an old looking dagger, then gestures Harry
forward. “I need you to make a cut on your hand, and let it drip on the paper.”
After a moment’s consideration, he added, “It may hurt, so it’s best to do it
quickly.”
Harry just said, “I’ve felt worse,” and proceeded to cut a thin line across his
palm, then making a fist to coax the blood out onto the parchment, already
starting to ink its way across the paper. Lucius shoots a quick healing spell
to Harry’s hand, and Harry gave him a smile in thanks as he reads the paper.
Harry James Potter
Parents: James Charlus Potter (Paternal, deceased), Lily Ann Potter nee Evans
(Maternal, deceased)
Godparents: Sirius Black (deceased), Alice Longbottom (Compromised, Living),
Severus Snape (Living)
Soul mate: Tom Marvolo Riddle (Lord Voldemort [living, sane])
Vaults:
Potter (Birthright)
Evans (Birthright)
Black (Heir)
Prince (Heir)
Slytherin (Spousal rights)
Gaunt (Spousal rights)
Gryffindor (Conquest)
Magical Inheritance:
Magic Rank: Mage (Blocked 95% by Albus Dumbledore)
A mage is the highest rank a wizard can be. The last known mage was Merlin
himself, though it is rumored that Grindelwald may have also been a mage. Some
of the mage’s abilities include the following:
Wandless magic
The ability to read magical cores
Creature inheritance(s)
Creature Inheritance: Neko (Submissive, Blocked 100% by Albus Dumbledore)
Animagus Form(s): Black Panther (Blocked 100% by Albus Dumbledore)
Familiar: Snowy Owl, Hedwig (Telepathy blocked 97% by Albus Dumbledore)
Spousal inheritances: Parseltongue, Horcrux in forehead scar
Influences (Potions and Spells):
Loyalty Potion (Loyalty to Albus Dumbledore, administered by Albus Dumbledore
daily)
Loyalty Spell (Loyalty to Albus Dumbledore, administered by Albus Dumbledore
weekly)
Love Potion (Administered by Ginevra Weasley monthly)
Influences are not applied throughout the summer.
Quite frankly, many things on this paper disturbed Harry.
His soul mate was freaking Voldemort. Granted, he’s sane and very nice to Harry
now, but still, it’s Voldemort.
Secondly, all of these inheritance things sounded cool as fuck yet Dumbledore
blocked all of them. Then there were the loyalty magics against him...
Thirdly, Ginny was giving him a love potion? He must have asked this aloud,
because Lucius answered, “It’s a common thing for a wench to marry someone of
wealth only to kill the man after he gives her everything of value.” As Harry
looks up at him he remembers what Draco said about Narcissa, and he thinks for
a second he can see a twinge of emotion in the Sr. Malfoy’s expression before
it’s gone. “That doesn’t make sense, though,” Harry murmurs. Lucius raises a
pale eyebrow. “How so?”
“I never think about her at all. I barely know who she is. If I took the
potion, isn’t she supposed to be… I don’t know, the sun I orbit around, or
whatever?” The corner of Lucius’ lips twitched up into a small smirk at his
butchered description. “Hm. I guess she’s just a failure at potions. In that
case, be glad you’re even alive. You should talk to Severus about it when we
get home,” he suggests.
“By the way,” Lucius adds, “I believe that you are taking this extraordinarily
well.”
Harry snorted. “I’m currently just shoving in it a box and leaving it in the
darkest parts of my brain to digest later.” Lucius raised his eyebrows. “Well
that’s one way to do it, I suppose.”
Griphook cleared his throat, drawing them away from the conversation.
"Everything Dumbledore has done are serious offenses. Rest assured that we will
not let him get away with it. For this inconvenience that Gringotts has let
slip by for so long, we offer to undo all of the damage he's done without a
fee." Harry raised his eyebrows. "You mean to say that you can unblock all of
this stuff?" he asked skeptically, gesturing to the paper.
Griphook gave a short nod.
Harry grinned. "Let's do it."
"I believe we'll need a ministry official to see the process over...?" Lucius
interjected. The goblin nodded once again. "It would be of your choice Lord
Malfoy since Mr. Potter is not of age."
Lucius gave a reaffirmed nod. "I would like Ms. Amelia Bones to oversee the
process, with any aurors of her choice."
"I'll see it done," the goblin said, standing and going to the side of the
room, opening a door that had been invisible to the eye of the wizards. "Come,"
he beckoned, ushering them into the room.
                                      +++
“My Lord… if I may ask, why did you not use the soul mate potion? Why give it
to Harry? Other than the obvious, of course.” Snape asked as he walked down the
hall with Tom to the throne room. The Dark Lord smiled fondly. “I gave it to
him simply because it belongs to him, Severus.” There was a pause. “That, and I
already know who his soul mate is,” he admits. Severus raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Voldemort chuckled. “Yes, Nagini told me.”
Snape’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Your snake?”
“She commented something odd to me the other day when Harry arrived. He smells
like me, apparently, and like a ‘potential mate’. It didn’t really click until
you mentioned the soul mate potion.”
Snape’s eyebrows had now reached his hairline. It was ridiculous, really.
“So… what you’re saying is that Harry is your soul mate?”
“Yes,” Tom confirmed. “But this was only after I realized he was my Horcrux.
It’s why the old man kept practically waving the brat in my face."
There was a lull in the conversation, the echo of their footsteps the only
sound. Then, “What do you plan to do, My Lord?”
Tom sighed exasperatingly. “I told you to call me Tom, Severus!”
“Yes, My-” A glare was sent Snape’s way. “-Tom.”
Tom rolled his eyes, but said, “I plan on giving him the ultimate gift,
Severus.” Their walk slowed to a stop as they reached the throne room. “And
that would be…?” Tom grinned sneakily. “A surprise.”
He walked into the room, his footsteps echoing across the walls as he headed
for his chair. ‘We really need to fix this up to look less like I’m king in
here. Who even uses thrones nowadays?’
“Oh, and Severus? I need you to get some things for me, starting with new
furniture for this room… and quickly, we only have so much time before Harry
gets back.”
                                     + + +
Harry and Lucius look around the large room, one with white walls that had
various ingredients shelved on it and a floo in the corner, several other
goblins shuffling around the room preparing things, sigils being scrawled over
the floor tiles. The goblins move Harry to the middle of the room where he's
told to sit on the floor. Just as he crosses his legs comfortably, the floo
lights up, Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt exiting the fireplace
gracefully, leaving no trace of ash behind. Amelia spots Lucius and strides
towards him, Kingsley not far behind.
"Lucius, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded. He ignored her ire as he
pushed the paper he held in his hand towards her. She glared at him as she
snatched the paper, eyes flicking over the information, her anger deflating at
Lucius as she did so.
"This is serious," she said dumbly. Lucius decided not to mock her. "Yes, the
Goblin Nation has told us so. They are to do a ritual to cleanse and unblock
him." She looked up, glancing around the room. "So that's what all of this is,
I gather?" Lucius gave a stiff nod. She handed the paper back to him. "Thank
you for calling me. Though..." she says hesitantly, looking out at Harry, "I..
Can we trust He-Who-Mu-"
"Please don't finish that ridiculous nickname. It's an insult to your intellect
and dignity." She glanced up at him and swallowed. Lucius was intimidating at
times, but she was a brave woman, and she didn't cower to get where she was
today. "Okay." She started again, "Can we trust Voldemort, since we can't kill
him now?" Lucius glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, smirking. "Now
that he is sane, he is reconsidering all of his causes. But be warned, he will
do anything to save Harry, or even just for Harry." She considered this,
nodding slowly.
Soon the ritual has started and one of the goblins tell Lucius and the two
ministry officials to step back.
The goblins formed a circle around the boy, chanting in gobbledy-gook, hands
together and rising as they chanted louder until finally, it stopped.
Then there was a burst of bright green light surrounding Harry as he screamed,
back arching almost dangerously, fangs bursting from his mouth, the scream
turning into a roar as he changed, hair parting to make way for pointed ears, a
sleek black tail slipping out of his slacks. When it just seemed to be over,
suddenly an image, almost like a memory, appeared. It was unmistakably Harry,
but he seemed to be younger, and strangely.... happier. He knelt down next to
the exhausted neko, laying a faded hand on the boy's shoulder. "Harry," he
whispered softly, "Come on, Harry, you're not done yet." The neko looked up.
"Hurts," he panted.
The young boy just smiled wider. "It's okay, Harry. It's just this last time
Harry, and you'll never hurt again." Older-Harry looked up at him with wide
eyes. "I'll protect you, Harry. You and I, we're the same. We know the truth!"
he says excitedly. The younger Harry looked out at the awe-struck wizards. "Now
they'll know the truth. All of it." He knelt down, almost as if to give the
older him a hug, but instead, he went right through the neko, seemingly merging
into one.
It was like someone fired a magical nuke.
The goblins and wizards were knocked back, shielding their eyes with their
arms, bright lights flashing behind their eyes.
Harry was now a few inches off of the ground, whips of the green light flitting
around him, eyes wide open, but as Lucius looks closer, there’s no pupil, only
bright avada green.
The lights flicker before going dark. He tears his eyes from Harry to glance at
what seems to be a memory on one of the large white walls.
And what he sees is a story of a boy that suffered, alone and in pain, with no
one to turn to, no one to trust, screaming for somebody and only receiving
hate.
It was as if everything was clear again. Lucius remembered things that he
hadn't in a long time, things about that Halloween night, and times before
that. Happy times that he used to have where he wasn't just a Malfoy trying to
make his father proud, or just another pureblood piss-pot-priss in Hogwarts.
Hell, these days, those thoughts seem so personal that he wants to push them
out.
But he can't.
So when the room finally goes completely black, he nods at Amelia while taking
Harry to the floo, and with a whispered word he is back at his manor with the
little neko wrapped tight in his arms.
Lucius looks down at him worriedly as he starts to wake up, yawning to flash
fangs in his face. He grimaces but settles down in Lucius' grip, that is, until
he spots something from the corner of his eye that made him sit up despite the
pain, eyes wide and teary.
"Mum?"
 
***** Somebody To Love *****
Chapter Summary
     At long last, here we are: a 3000+ word chapter.
     I'm sorry for the wait :)
The first thing he saw was the bright white of his Lily’s aura. It was almost
blinding, it was so bright. That’s how he even noticed she was there in the
blur of exhaustion in his mind. So bright, that he looked and-
There she was. His mother, after all this time.
“Mum!” he exclaimed again, scrambling to get out of Lucius’ arms to go to her.
She stood shell-shocked, hand over her mouth as she cried tears of happiness at
finally seeing her son again. “Harry!” she cried as she threw her arms around
him, squeezing him tightly, but not nearly as tight as Harry’s grip on her.
She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back to get a good look at him.
“Oh my,’ she whispered, taking in his new features and appendages, taking
in everything. She gave him a smile. “You’re so small, so adorable! My
beautiful baby boy.” Harry purred, leaning into the hand that now rested on his
cheek. A new figure leaned in beside her, aura just as white as Lily’s. “Cuter
than me, and that’s saying something,” James said with a smirk, reaching out
for a hug from the boy, who eagerly accepted.
“Dad,” he breathed, tail swishing side to side in excitement.
James smiled at him. “Hey, kiddo.”
“H-How-” Harry stopped, jaw dropped at the person behind his parents.
“Padfoot?”
Sirius gave him a blinding smile. “Hey, pup. It’s been a while.” He stood next
to James, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Harry slammed into him, giving him
what might have been the biggest hug, his furry black tail wrapping around his
godfather. “I missed you, Paddy,” he mumbled into Sirius’ shirt.
It had been so long since Harry had seen so much white. It was blinding, like
staring at the sun, but it was like the sun was saying, “I love you.”
They stayed like that for a long while, just soaking in each others presence.
“Where’s Remus?” Sirius asked finally, backing out of the hug.
Harry looked down at his feet and shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything from
him.”
“Not yet,” said a voice suddenly. Harry’s breath hitched, whirling to face the
direction the voice came from, his ears twitching. “Tom! I-” Harry had a sudden
thought. “It was you! Wasn’t it? Did you bring them back? My parents? Sirius?!
How?!?” Tom chuckled at all of his questions, holding a hand to save him from
another onslaught of questions from anyone. “It was me, Harry. I know a thing
or two about bringing people back to life. Different methods than what I used
for myself, admittedly, but they have less unfortunate… side effects. Either
way,” he continues, waving his hands at all of them, “I wanted to try and fix
what I could. I could’ve said sorry a million times and not have it matter. So
I, uh, well, I brought them back,” he says (almost sheepishly, for an evil
overlord), silver aura flickering between silver and a gray, darkening at the
mention of the pain he caused Harry.
Harry’s mouth was agape, staring at him and his now-alive family.
Tom’s lip twitched into what could’ve been a smile. “Cedric is sleeping in the
other room.”
Harry’s blinding smile at the mention of Cedric’s name, to Tom, made everything
worth it. “You brought him back? For me?” At this, Tom smile wilted a bit until
it turned into a frown. “Harry… it’s needless to say that I’ve scarred you,
physically and mentally. I brought you down in the magical world, and-” Tom’s
jaw clenched, “in the end, I was the reason for your pain in the Muggle world.”
He kneeled next to the small cat-boy. “I never want to be that, never again. I
never want to hear you have another nightmare again, especially one that
I caused,” Tom admits quietly.
Harry’s ears flattened against his head, tail now hugging his own waist, eyes
wide as he looked at Tom.
“I know you don’t trust me, but please, trust me when I say this,” Tom begged.
“You deserve everything. These people, they’re your family, they love you, very
very much. And you might not think so yet, but they’re here to stay. Your
parents, your godfather, Severus and Lucius, Draco, your friends, and me. I’ll
be here for you... if you’ll have me.”
Harry pauses, hesitant. He turns to look at his family, to gauge their
reactions. His parents are troubled and hesitant as well because after all, one
never truly gets over being killed. He could tell that they weren’t sure if
they could trust Voldemort with Harry. Padfoot just seems happy to be alive and
with his old friends and smiled encouragingly to Harry.
Harry turned back to Voldemort. “I…”
It was hard to get words out. Voldemort was responsible for everything, and
here he was, giving it all back. It was something that Harry would never have
expected, something Harry never thought possible. It seemed like a dream like
it was too good to be true.
“Thank you,” Harry finally settles on. “I never thought I would say this, but…
yes. A thousand times, yes,” his voice cracks. He cautiously makes his way up
to Voldemort until they are only inches apart. Any other words he could say,
they got caught in Harry’s throat, refusing to be voiced. Harry lunges to hug
Tom, like ripping off a band-aid, burying his head in his chest, tail wrapping
self-consciously around one of Harry’s legs.
Tom gives a small “oof” as Harry squeezes the breath out of him, but Tom finds
that he doesn’t mind, hands slowly coming down from their startled position to
hug the boy back. And as Tom slowly adjusted to the idea that he was going to
be friends with Harry, small, brave little Harry, his smile grew, and unknown
to him, his soul was becoming something much clearer and brighter, happiness
and love beginning to cleanse him of his past mistakes.
                                     + + +
Reunions, Harry discovered, were beautiful.
Perhaps to Harry they were even more beautiful since he had the advantage of
being able to see their very soul change when united with another after so
long.
So it only took two minutes for Harry to realize that his parents weren’t in
love with each other anymore.
James and Lily sat on opposite sides of the room, James with Sirius and Lily
with Lucius. Lily talked with Lucius, but kept glancing toward the door, aura
pulsing longingly, swirling, waiting.
His father’s aura was mostly white. It was completely white when he was around
Harry, but it was a bright fiery red with his godfather, Sirius. Or at least,
half of it was. It was the same with Sirius, one-half white, one-half flame. In
the end, Harry just couldn’t help himself.
“Who’s the other person?” he asked his father, his sleek black tail doing a
slow sway, displaying Harry’s curiosity. James, blushing, tore his eyes from
Sirius. “Sorry, what?”
“You’re in love with Sirius,” Harry stated bluntly, his left ear twitching.
Ignoring the stammering from both his father and his godfather, he goes on to
say, “that much I can see. But there’s someone else. Someone both of you know
about. Who is it?” He tilts his head to the side, cat-like eyes sharp, studying
them.
Both James and Sirius looked at each other for a long moment, contemplating
whether or not they should just fess up.
James gives up first. “It’s, um, it’s Remus.”
Sirius gives him a curious look. “Have you seen him?”
Harry’s ears went flat against his skull as he tersely replied, “Not since he
left the school.” Slowly, they relaxed. “I heard he was in the Order,” Harry
offered the couple.
Sirius shook his head. “No, he left the Order just before I bit it.”
A hand settles on Harry’s back, startling the neko, who jumped, turning to see
who it was. “Fenrir is out to find him,” Tom says in lieu of a greeting. “Remus
had apparently opposed whatever business the Order was up to and went rogue.
Dumbledore is searching for him as well, but without another werewolf, I doubt
he’ll find him.”
James nodded absently as he stared at Tom’s hand on his son. Tom followed his
gaze, and with an amused smirk, he removed his hand. “I’ll leave you to it,
then.” Tom leaves, exiting the room from one of the doors near the back of the
room.
James lets out a relieved sigh, the tension in his shoulders fading. He wasn’t
quite used to the fact that Voldemort was apparently the good guy. But he
supposed he had quite a lot of time to do so.
Almost on instinct, he went to reach for Sirius’ hand but stopped himself at
the last second, his expression unsure.
Harry caught it. “I don’t mind, you know. I suppose it should be earth-
shattering, life-changing news to me that you and Mum don’t love each other
anymore, but you were dead. Anything is better than that.” James frowns at
Harry’s dark expression.
“You know we love you, right pup?” Sirius butts in, worried. He tangles his
fingers with James, and Harry finally smiles at them as their auras brighten at
the contact. “I know,” Harry said, “it’s what makes everything all right.”
So, his reunion with his dad was pleasant enough, if not a bit awkward.
But his favorite reunion of them all was this:
He had a hard time deciding on whether to stare at Severus’ face or his aura
when he finally ‘joined the party’, so to speak. Lily was speaking with her
husband in a darker corner of the room when the potions master walked in, going
directly to Tom.
“It is finished,” Snape said to him. “Now, are you ever going to tell me what-”
Severus was stopped short by the sight of Lily, his beautiful Lily, making her
way over to him. Suddenly, he was much more aware of the residents of the room.
He tore his eyes from her, scanning them over the room, turning in a slow
circle, at last landing on Harry.
Harry smiled brilliantly at him, telling him all he needed to know.
This was real. All of it was real. It wasn’t a hallucination this time. This
was real. Lily, beautiful, red-headed Lily in all of her grace and poise was
absolutely positively real and oh god, not dead.
“Lily,” he breathed out when she finally reached him.
The last memory he has of her is her lifeless body that he cradled in her arms,
and as he pictures it he can almost hear it, a loud wailing of a frightened
child and his own heavy sobs as he holds it’s mother’s body closer.
“Severus,” she says, startling him away from the memory, his eyes refocusing on
her. A dainty hand caresses his cheek, brilliant emerald eyes peering at him
through fine red lashes. He reaches out, a shaking hand with potion-stained
fingers resting on her cheek, his forehead resting on hers. They breathe the
same air. She looks up at him, then, delicately and slowly, she kisses him, and
it’s like every good dream he’s ever had.
That’s it. He must be dreaming. As Lily’s arms come around him to pull him
closer, kiss deepening, he knows that even if he must be dreaming,
he’s not. She’s really here, and she’s really kissing him.
A startling thought occurs to him, making him pull back even if he really
doesn’t want to. “I- James…?” he stumbles on whatever he wanted to say, but
Lily got the picture. She smiles at him, finishing his sentence, “…is fine with
it. Being dead, as it turns out, is really enlightening. We both discovered
what we really wanted. Who we really wanted.” He frowns, looking back at where
James had been, and he notices it. How close Potter had gotten to Sirius, and
where their hands intertwined. Potter caught his gaze and smiled, giving him an
encouraging nod.
Severus turned back to Lily, breath caught in his throat at her blinding smile.
And for the first time in a long time, he gives a smile just as wide and
laughs, hugging her tightly to him and sweeping her off her feet in a twirl.
Harry watched happily as his mother’s swirling, empty aura filled with light
and as Severus Snape’s aura went from the cold, dark, black it had become, to
the softest, lightest baby pink. He would never, of course, tell Snape that his
aura was such (what was sure to be) an offending color, but at this moment,
Harry thinks that Snape could have an aura with Gryffindor colors flashing like
a neon sign and not have a care in the world.
They soon spun to a stop, and even sooner, Lily released herself from the hug.
Severus continued to stare at her in wonder as Lily’s eyes drifted across the
room, smiling as they rested on Harry. She grinned as she crooked her finger in
a, “come here,” motion, and Snape watched as Harry got up and moved to stand
next to his mother.
“Harry, you know Severus, right?”
The fifteen-year-old smiled as the fluffy ears hidden in his hair twitched. “Of
course, Mum.” He turns his smile to Severus, “We didn’t get along so well at
first...” Severus gulps. He had nearly forgotten about how he had treated Harry
when the boy had first shown up. He tried not to look guilty as Harry continues
to talk, who was surely about to expose his atrocious behavior. “But he’s
really helped me out. None of this would be possible without him. He might as
well have saved my life. Well, technically he has saved my life. Several
times,” the cat-boy admitted.
Huh. Severus thought. He’s just going to let me get away with all of that. He
smiled appreciatively at Harry, warmth flowing through him.
Lily raised her eyebrows at Severus, amusement tinting her voice as she says,
“Is that so?” We’re talking about that later, mister went unspoken.
Severus sheepishly bowed his head, and Harry giggled at the image they all
made.
What a fucked up family.
“Harry, I…” Harry looked up at Snape, who was no longer trying to be funny.
“What she’s trying to get to, I think, is… well, I love her.” Harry watched as
his mum smiled softly at him, encouraging him. Harry grins. “Yeah, it’s a bit
hard not to see, sir.”
Severus gives a small smile back at him, nodding. “But,” he continues, “the
more important thing is that I want to be a part of this family. With you and
your mum. I suppose what I’m trying to ask is, would you mind if I became your
stepfather?”
Harry had trouble containing his blinding smile. “I would love that, sir.”
After all, the more family, the merrier, and he kind of wanted to build on the
bond they were beginning to have.
Suddenly, Harry begins to tear up. His mum was the first to notice. “Harry?
Harry, honey, what’s wrong?” Harry sniffs, wiping his eyes quickly, giving her
a watery smile. “It’s nothing, I just… A few days ago I thought I had no one.
Now I have everyone. It’s everything I’ve ever imagined, that I’ve ever dreamed
of.”
His tail curled around his wrist, as he admits, “I thought I’d have to fight
the big fight by myself, you know. That’s what the prophecy said. But how could
I do that if I couldn’t even face my uncle in the morning, or get through
potions class without making a fool of myself? And I know that I don’t have to
defeat Tom anymore, but what about Dumbledore?”
Severus got down on one knee, trying to get to Harry’s height. “Harry, you
don’t have to do these things by yourself. We’ll be here for you.” Harry hugs
him, seeking comfort, and as Severus hugs him back, the man’s aura surrounds
Harry, like it was trying to hug him too. “Thank you,” Harry mumbled.
Hugging Severus tighter, he lets out a startled laugh. Severus and Lily gave
each other an amused look. “What is it, honey?” his mother asked him.
Harry pulls himself back from the hug, choking out between giggles. “I just… I
just realized that I kind of have four dads.”
Severus’ heart warmed at the title, and after a minute, he chuckled too,
sharing a loving look with Lily. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
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