Chapter One

Harry sat on the log, his bare feet in the grass and watched his wife, Nadya, gathering fire wood. He felt great peace and contentment at the moment. They had been married for two weeks, and Harry still felt like he was dreaming.

Can it be you are mine? he thought as he watched her.

There were no longer feelings of dread at the end of the school term about returning to the Dursleys. He knew that sooner or later he would have to deal with them just as he had to deal with other unpleasant things in his life. Harry knew that part of growing up and being considered an adult was to face such things. For now he wanted to set it aside, take pleasure in being with his new family, the Romani, better known as Gypsies, and spending the summer in anonymity.

Harry had spent the prior year struggling to break away from the Dursleys. He’d run away after finding out that the Dursleys’ home was no longer safe. He still didn’t know how the Death Eaters had entered the house with his mother’s blood protection acting as a barrier; but they had, putting him and the Dursleys in danger.

He had run away from one family to find another. By accident, and with the guiding hand and intervention of a formidable Wood Glen elf, he had found the gypsy caravan, the Kumpania. They had helped him form a plan to trick the Dark Lord into believing he was dead. He’d returned to school under the disguise and the name of Tommy Pane.

Harry reflected on the events of the school year and his training under Jolie, a gypsy friend. He had met his own dead mother in a Spirit Walk and had mixed her ashes and his own blood to perform a spell on Voldemort. A spell that made Voldemort’s actions rebound so that he suffered the pain he tried to wield on others.

Harry and Severus Snape had also escaped almost sure death from the hands of the evil wizard Voldemort, the Romani called Kalo Beng- the Dark Devil.

At sixteen, Harry had then married his beautiful Romani wife, who now playfully flirted with him as she drew near. He laughed and threw grass at her. In the camp, he followed the Romani customs and didn’t have physical contact with her in public. He wanted very dearly to grab her around the waist and pull her to him.

“Mi kmav,” she whispered and picked up sticks for firewood nearby. She turned her back and whipped around to dump her apron full of grass on his head. He laughed and choked as he spit grass out of his mouth.

“Come back to me," he shouted as she ran off. He grinned and settled back on the log.

The sky was blue and the sun warmed his face. He listened as the children in the camp played around him. The older boys were riding and playing with the horses that grazed nearby. The horses were used to pull the beautiful vardos -the wagons- of the camp. The horses were the pride and joy of the whole camp. Harry watched as some of the men practiced doing acrobatics on them. He lived with a tribe that were entertainers. They moved from village to village and put on Fairs.

Harry had become an adept stilt-walker. Dressed in a harness that resembled a bird, he walked on stilts and had the harness tied to his waist so that it looked like he was on a saddle. The head of the bird was manipulated using reins and hidden wires. He was himself dressed in a mask and a warrior’s costume, with red-leather armor and shield.

Once dressed, the stilt-walkers would roam the Fair, catching money that was thrown for their performances. When Harry had first seen the walkers, he believed that they were riding real birds because the performance was so realistic and exotic.

Now, sitting around camp he was dressed as one of the Romani men, in a wide-brimmed, felt hat, a white blouse covered with a vest and leather pants. His high black boots were laying beside his bare feet. An old woman in camp had turned his hair from it’s normal black to a rusty brown and he wore the only muggle thing he brought from that world, a pair of brown contact lens.

Harry slipped down onto the grass and lay on his back looking into the cobalt blue sky. Weary from the long school year and the stress, he found that he could easy lay for hours and do nothing.

His friend, Albus Dumbledore, and the headmaster of Hogwarts had given him advice before leaving him, “Harry there is one think you can try and do for yourself,” he said.

“What’s that Professor?" Harry asked.

“You can try and not think or worry about the future.” They walked the edge of the lake shore together. “It drains you of energy. There are many things that are out of our reach and out of our control. Your friends are safe for now, and I think the world is probably safer than we can expect. If anything happens the Order will keep you informed.” Dumbledore spoke of the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization pulled together to fight the Dark Lord and Dumbledore was their leader.

Harry nodded. “Do you have a plan for the next step, Professor?”

Dumbledore smiled and continued, “Well, I think that it’s time that you become a member of the Order, Harry. You are now married with the full responsibilities of a man and you will reach the age of seventeen this summer. When that happens we will officially make you one of the Order. It seems that you’re going to be involved no matter what, based on your experiences this past term.”

Harry could tell that it worried the old man and started to speak, “Professor…”

Dumbledore interrupted, “Harry, when we are not in school why don’t you just call me Albus. I think you have earned the right, don’t you? I certainly think of myself as your friend and that’s what my friends call me.”

“Of course…” Harry studied him soberly. “Albus, I was just thinking that Ron and Hermione should also be asked to join. I know that we have one more year at Hogwarts and no one is asking that we work full-time for the Order. But no one is more deserving. What happened this last year would not have happened without them. They helped save Professor Snape and me, too.”

“Yes, I agree,” Dumbledore said and nodded, “and they will be invited.”

“Good,” Harry sighed. They walked in silence for a long time.

Harry studied the castle, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, in the summer sunlight. It had been home to him for a long time. He wondered, even with Dumbledore’s advice, what the future was going to bring.

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Now as he lay in the grass, pictures flashed before his eyes, pictures of Hermione and Ron, his friends at school, even Severus Snape.

He’d learned some painful things about Snape and about his own parents the year before. He’d learned that Snape had loved his mother and that she had considered him a friend. It had made it all so much harder for Harry to see the man in an evil light.

He and Snape had come to terms with some of the anger they held towards one another and had reached an neutral point in their relationship. Snape knew that Harry would no longer allow him to abuse or humiliate him. Harry had grown too strong and had even saved Snape’s life. Harry knew that doing so had incurred a debt with the older wizard.

He thought about what the year would bring and what Snape would do. He was no longer useful as a spy to Voldemort, having been exposed during their escape from the Malfoy mansion.

Harry also thought of other people as he lay sunning himself; he thought of McGonagal his professor in Transfiguration; Hagrid, his friend and teacher in Magical Creature classes; Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan, both of Griffindor House and all of his friends.

CAW, CAW, the sound erupted overhead and Harry opened one eye to squint through the dappled sunlight.

“Dante?” Harry had received the bird from one of the gypsy children, Reuben, who had trained the bird to deliver mail to Harry. “Dante, if you have mail you’re suppose to bring it to me,” Harry said sitting up. “Dante, here, to me.” The bird flew down and walked around Harry in a circle. He did have a parchment tied to his leg but was not delivering directly as an owl would.

“Mail Deliver, Balicho (piglet)!” the Raven said.

Harry smirked. The bird had taken to calling him names each time he delivered the mail. Some days it was ‘pig’ or ‘dog-face’ or whatever the bird heard and could repeat.

“Bring it here,” Harry ordered. The raven walked very slowly and deliberately, head held high, towards Harry and extended a leg. Harry untied the strings that held it and unrolled the parchment.

My Dearest Friend,

I hope you are staying close to home so this letter will reach you. Our grandfather has taken ill and I thought you might want to join me so that we might take the train to London and visit him. Yes, he’s getting on in his years and these things are expected but I am quite concerned. The whole family is looking forward to seeing you. As a matter-of-fact, cousin Remus will meet us on the platform.

I don’t think it’s necessary to bring the wife and kiddies, we won’t be but about a week. I’ll meet you at Hogsmeade on Thursday at 8.

Uncle Bulbie

Harry read it over again. He had teasingly called Professor Severus Snape, ‘Uncle Bulbie’ when the man was in camp with him the summer before, and now, he was getting a letter from him. Harry assumed that ‘grandfather’ was Dumbledore. He wasn’t sure if Snape and Remus Lupin were meeting him at the train station as his security escort or because something really had happened to Dumbledore.

Harry bit his lip. He understood what Snape meant by not bringing Nadya with him. The chances that he might be recognized or be in danger were very high. Harry knew that Voldemort would do anything to find him; Snape as well. He had crossed the Dark Lord once to often and gotten away and he knew his luck might run out.

Together, he and Snape had concocted a potion that made Voldemort’s actions rebound back on him. Any pain he tried to inflict on others went back to him ten-fold. Harry was sure that his anger had to be explosive. And yet, Harry had not experienced any pain in his scar. In the past this had been a sure sign that the Dark Lord was angry. His scar was no longer a barometer of Voldemort’s moods, because he thought Harry to be dead and no longer tried to share Harry’s mind.

Why doesn’t Snape just tell me to come to No. 12 Gimmauld Place, Harry thought, Why does he have to say Dumbledore is ill? Of course, the Headmaster was very old, older than Professor McGonagal. He could very well have gotten sick. Harry also wondered if it wasn’t the invitation he’d been expecting to join the Order.

“Agh!” he coughed angrily, rising to his feet. He pulled on his boots and went in search of Tshaya, an ancient old woman who could perform the charms to disguise his face. Anytime he left the Kumpania, out of the protection of the Romani people, Harry had to take extra precautions to not be recognized.

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Harry stood in the shadows of the train station, his cloak hood pulled up over his head. It was raining, a perfect setting for hiding himself. The train was not the Hogwarts Express. But standing there waiting for Snape and Remus made him think of the past six years. It took a moment to break out of his reverie when the train pulled into the station and two figures, also hooded stepped out onto the platform. There were no other passengers.

Harry moved slowly until he was a few feet from them. Remus was the first to turn and mumble, “Tommy?”

“Yes, Remus,” Harry answered and stepped over beside them to shake his hand.

They waited until the conductor called "All aboard" before stepping onto the train. Luckily the lights in the compartments were very dim. Snape opened a compartment door and let Harry and Remus slip in first. He closed the door and went to pull the blinds on the windows.

Harry knew enough to remain silent and keep his hood over his head until Snape had given the all clear. The train rolled out of the station and picked up speed. Remus took out a wand and cast a spell on the door, effectively locking it and forming a protective shield. Harry knew they were at a disadvantage in sitting in a compartment with one exit.

“That should do it,” he said.

All three took their hoods off at the same time. Harry sat beside Remus and faced Snape. The man was dressed typically, from head-to-toe in black. He had, however, kept his hair short and clean.

“Can you tell me if grandfather is really ill?” Harry asked, keeping his voice low.

Snape nodded and answered very quietly, “We don’t know what the problem is.”

Remus put his hand on Harry’s arm, “It’s not old age, Tommy.”

Harry was frustrated. He knew they shouldn’t discuss the subject in any detail but he wanted some answers. “Is he going to die?” He could barely say the words.

Snape looked at him for a moment and said, “No, we don’t think so. He’s unconscious and hasn‘t spoken. He did have the presence of mind to leave a note requesting his favorite grandson be called to his side if anything happened to him.” His eyes glittered and he finally turned away from Harry’s stare.

They sat in silence for an hour. He had a hundred questions running through his mind, none of which he could ask on the train. Why couldn’t I apparate there? Why take the train? Did someone do this to Dumbledore? Is there an assassin? How long has he been this way? Does Snape know more? What aren’t they telling me? How can I help?

“I think I will check out the other passengers,” Remus said and stood up to leave. “You’ll be alright here, Tommy. Your Uncle can keep you company while I’m gone.” He took out his wand and broke the protective spell. Sliding open the door an enough to put his head out the corridor, he waited and then slipped out with cunning stealth and silence, disappearing before Harry’s eyes.

Harry glanced at Snape who pulled out his wand and reset the protection charm.

They are being really cautious, he thought. Something more has happened then what they are telling me.

“Uncle…” Harry stumbled. He didn’t want to use the silly name he had given Snape the summer before. “…Sam. Can you tell me why we don’t use a little faster form of travel?”

Snape turned to him and whispered, “Not safe.”

Harry nodded. He realized that Snape was in as much danger as himself. If caught together, they would make Voldemort’s day. However, Harry did feel safe. He knew that Snape was a formidable wizard.


Remus returned and slipped in as quietly as he had left. He used his wand and set a tea set in front of them. “Don’t know about you two but I could use some tea. Tommy?”

Harry nodded. He wasn’t sure he wanted any but it would pass the time. Snape also accepted a cup. The noise of the train wheels filled the silence between them.

“We are almost alone this evening,” Remus said quietly. “There are no other stops until we reach London. Tommy, when we get there you’ll go with me and your uncle will meet us later.”

Harry nodded again and sipped the hot tea, thinking, What is going on?

Chapter Two


It went as planned. The train was in the station five minutes and they got off. It was late and there were a few stragglers. The two men went through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾’s and hastily pulled off their cloaks. Harry was dressed as a muggle teenager, with a tee shirt and blue jeans. Remus wore worn corduroy slacks and a shirt. They both wore caps.

“Do you think you can get us a cab, Tommy?” Remus asked as they walked quickly to the entrance.

“Yes,” Harry answered. He had never done this before but knew more about it than the wizard at his side. He knew he was nervous when he glanced at the moon. He’d forgotten about Remus and the possibility he could transform to his werewolf if there was a full moon. There wasn’t, it was a half moon.

They were in luck. A stray cab sat at the curb and Harry grabbed the door, peered in and slid in with Remus behind him. Remus took out a slip of paper and told the driver, “Huckleberry Square, northeast.” The cab took off.

In forty minutes the cab let them off in a dark alley. Remus took out his wand and stood in front of Harry, shielding him, until the street was clear of traffic. He nodded and Harry followed him around the corner. They were on Grimmauld Place, the street where Sirius house was magically hidden. They didn’t speak until they reached the No.11 Grimmauld Place and Remus mumbled, “No. 12 Grimmauld Place.” The house between 11 and 13 appeared.

They were through the door and in the dark hallway in seconds. Harry noticed some changes in the hall. He hadn’t been there since the Christmas that Sirius had died. The portrait of Sirius’ mother had been removed and the walls repainted. It no longer smelled of mildew and mold and there was welcoming lamp sitting on a desk with a fresh vase of roses next to it.

“Can we speak, Remus?” Harry asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yes, we can, Harry. I know you have a lot of questions to ask and I’ll answer them in due course. There’s no one else here besides Madam Pomphrey. She’s upstairs with Albus. She wouldn’t let anyone else take care of him.” Remus waited for him. “Do you want to go up first?”

“Yes,” Harry said quietly, nodding and Remus led the way to the second floor.

They opened the door quietly. Madam Pomphrey shook herself from a nap and glanced up. She didn’t recognize Harry and was not one of the few who knew he was still alive.
“Remus, what are you doing?” She looked Harry over. “He really shouldn’t have visitors.”

“Hello,” Harry said sticking out his hand, “I’m a grandnephew of Albus. I’m Tommy.”

“Oh, I see,” she looked a little surprised. “Very well. I’ll go down for tea. Would either of you like some?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Remus said.

Harry was looking at Albus. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his own hand on the gray-veined hands laying on the bed covers. Albus’ long white hair covered the pillow. He looked as if he was asleep and would wake at the touch; but didn’t. Harry wondered at the frailty of the old man since he last saw him.

“Can you tell me now, Remus?”

Lupin sat down tiredly on the vacated chair by the bed. “We don’t know much. He could be in this state purposely or because someone has cursed him. It’s really a dangerous situation because he’s secret-keeper for the Order. We don’t know if that has been compromised, although Severus seems to think not.”

“Where is Professor Snape?” Harry asked without looking up.

“He’s in hiding,” Remus answered. “Better that we’re not all in the same place at the same time.”

“Can you tell me more?” Harry asked.

“It was just after the your wedding. Albus had made plans to go to Bulgaria. Most of the teachers were already gone from Hogwarts except those that generally stay there throughout the year. Severus is one and a few others. The Order was still meeting here every other night. We’ve been trying to decide how best to deal with not having Snape available as a spy. His knowledge has been essential of course, but obviously not possible now. We have no way of knowing what’s happening with Him,” Remus muttered.

“Anyway, McGonagal found Albus, he was…” Remus choked, “in the middle of a blood bath.”

Harry swiveled around on the bed where he sat, and stared at the man behind him.

It was obvious the man struggled to continue, “At the Ministry of Magic. Several people were killed; Madam LeClair…”(Harry started in surprise. Madam LeClair was their newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and had been introduced to the class by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge and Dumbledore. She was a trained Auror.)… Jacob Hopkins, Bush Mandrake. Cornelius Fudge…”

“Dead?” Harry gasped.

“No, missing,” Remus said, “as is Percy Weasley.” Remus looked up at Harry and then at Dumbledore. “They were slaughtered Harry… bloody-well slaughtered. No wizard did what I saw, it had to be muggles. Imagine- in the Ministry of Magic! And that’s not all of it.”

Harry steeled himself for the worst.

“They think Albus did it because he was found there in this condition without a scratch on him.”

Harry drew in a harsh breath and wanted to scream- but didn’t. They couldn’t think that! he thought furiously.

Lupin nodded, “I know what you’re thinking. Albus went there because Cornelius needed to discuss something with him. Since the incident in the Department of Mysteries…” Remus cleared his throat. They both knew he spoke of Sirius’ death and the fight that took place with Voldemort showing up on the scene to kill Harry. “Cornelius has been pathetically dependent on Dumbledore.”

“How? Who,” Harry stuttered, “got him out?”

“Severus went for him and brought him here,” he continued. “Since Severus couldn’t return to the Voldemort, he’s been taking on a lot of the work that Dumbledore was doing. Which was a good thing Harry,” Remus could see the look in his eyes. “Dumbledore really had a horrendous amount of work with the Order and Hogwarts. There are people all over the world that depend on him, you know.”

Harry thought for a moment about it. No, he really didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot of things. “Remus, what about Percy and Fudge?”

“We just don’t know Har…Tommy,” Remus said and looked up just as Madam Pomphrey brought in a tea tray. “Thank you, Poppy. I think Tommy and I will take our tea down to the drawing room and leave you alone with Albus.”

They accepted a cup and trudged down to the now suitably clean room on the first floor. Harry settled himself into a seat in front of the cold fireplace. He noticed the room had been redecorated and held none of the old creepy things that had been the belongings of the Black family. Most of the things were used in Dark magic. Harry could almost forget that he was in his dead godfather’s house.

“What about Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, Remus?” Harry sat the cup aside. “Should I go to them? I want to but I don’t know the situation. And only Ron and Mr. Weasley really know my true identity.”

“It’s alright Harry. They’re doing the best they can given the information we have. And really the question that’s floating around is whether Percy is a victim or… something else.”

Harry stared at him. He knew that Percy had estranged himself from his family and had been Fudge’s puppet in the last two years. Once Voldemort had shown himself Harry thought Percy would have changed his mind.” Harry thought about it. The events of the past year had kept him from asking Ron many questions. Harry felt like kicking himself for being so self-absorbed that he had not asked.

“What else don’t I know?” Harry asked. “I mean, I think there are things that I should be told about Albus and the Order. I think it’s time everyone stopped keeping me in the dark.”

“You’re probably right, Harry. I’m not sure I’m the best one to do it, but I guess I’m the only one left who can at this point in time.” The man stood and paced the cool room. His hands fluttered to his pockets and he looked agitated. “This is going to take some time.”

Harry had rarely seen Lupin when he didn’t look composed and he was pretty sure that this was not all about Dumbledore. “Alright,” Harry nodded, “but there’s something that I want to know before we get into details.”

Remus stopped the pacing and waited.

“We’ve not talked about Sirius’ since he died,” Harry said and found a painful throb rising in his chest. “I just want you to know that I take full responsibility for what happened. It’s not something that I’m proud of, but I…..”

“Harry, I don’t hold you responsible. Never have!” Remus quickly walked over and leaned on Harry’s armrests so that they were eye-to-eye. “Never! Do you understand! I don’t want you to think for a minute that it has changed how I feel about you. There was nothing either of us could have done about it. Sirius was head strong and willful. He was just chewing at the bit to be involved and not stuck in this blasted hole anymore!” He stood and continued his pacing, still very agitated. “He was always that way. Your father and I had to bail him out of so many things because he was impulsive.” He whirled and faced Harry, saying, “If I thought for a minute that you still suffered because you thought you were the cause of his death… then I could not live with that!”

It was the most demonstrative act Harry had ever seen the usually complacent man make. “Remus.” Harry stood and walked over giving him a quick hearty hug and then letting him go. “It’s alright.” What is disturbing him, I wonder, Harry wondered. There was definitely more lines of worry etched in the prematurely aged face.

“Good, then let’s get on with this unpleasantness,” Remus said scowling and turned away. “Actually, I don’t know really where to begin or what you want to know.”

“Tell me more about Albus, about…Riddle, about this house- anything,” Harry said, settling himself back down into a chair. “I just need some reference point where this all began.”

They looked at each other for a moment. “Very well,” Remus said and looked around the part-library, part-drawing room. “I guess you could say it starts in this room; parts of it anyway.”

Harry waited.

“Sirius’ family was a pureblood family as you well know. Your father came from purebloods; as I did, and many others- Albus, McGonagal, the Weasleys, Snape and more; the Malfoys, Crabbes and Goyles. Those are names your most familiar with, but of course, there are many others. And I think Sirius once told you that these families have been inter-marrying for generations.”

He stared at the fireplace as if pulling his thoughts together, and murmured, “Well, I’m getting ahead of myself. It really all started out about that but very quickly became something more. Purebloods were considered the royalty in our world, and treated very much like royalty. People like Tom Riddle who married witches or muggle women who married wizards were looked down on by society as having ‘dirtied the blood’ by having mixed marriages. Of course, the practice had been going on for several centuries. The crisis came when it became clear that the purebloods were dying out and with that comes a redistribution of wealth and property-above all power; all those things that people have fought about forever.”

“There were two sides initially; those who wanted a more equitable distribution- the mixed bloods; and those who wanted the world purified- the purebloods. It’s an old story.”

Harry nodded, “I understand.” He had been introduced to the term ‘mud blood’ by Draco Malfoy very early on and Sirius had stood in this very room and explained the family connections. Harry remembered Sirius’ anger over his own family and their hatred of half-bloods. He had even left home at sixteen because of it.

“Of course, it got complicated right away,” Remus was saying. “It had more to do with money and power and… and something else…” The man searched for words, “I’ll get to that in a minute, Harry. But first, I should tell you that when Sirius died he did leave a will. The money from his family’s estate was divided between you and me,” Remus said and looked at Harry. “Of course, Tonks did get some and a few other relatives that are still around. But the majority was distributed to us.”

Harry shrugged. “Money doesn’t mean much to me, Remus. My parents left me a good deal of money, too. But I’m glad you have it.”

Remus smiled. “I don’t think you understand, Harry. Between the two of us we could buy London. We are the richest men in the wizarding world. Richer than most muggle billionaires.”

Harry studied him and shook his head. He’d gotten used to hearing information about himself that others knew and he didn’t. “I’m pretty immune to surprises anymore, Remus.”

“Well, that is to say you will be rich when your identity is re-instated, hopefully some where in the future,” Remus said managing a smile. “I don’t care much for the money either Harry, but the point is that others do. Part of the reason for intermarriage of purebloods was also to keep the money ‘in the family’.” He continued, “ Money is always connected to power. It buys lots of things; and people. Remember Bellatrix Lestrange is a Black, as is Narcissa Malfoy. The money runs through the purebloods like the blood through their veins. There are branches and branches and branches.”

Harry waited. There was still something Lupin was not telling him.

“This next part, Harry is the most difficult. I know so little about it. But it is important to some of what’s going on.” Remus sat in the chair next to Harry and chewed on his index finger as if gnawing a bone. “The Order of the Phoenix was actually a society that was developed a thousand years or more ago. It had many purposes over those years. When Albus revived it; the sole purpose was to fight the purebloods and, Him… Tom Riddle. Tom had risen from this orphaned, half-muggle boy to a very powerful wizard in a very short period of time. He was accepted by the purebloods as one of their own. How do you think that happened?” Remus asked.

Harry thought about it. “Clearly he was willing to use dark magic to achieve his ends, Remus.”

“Yes, that’s part of it. The purebloods like the Blacks and Malfoys thought to use Riddle as their puppet, let him do the dirty work of cleaning out the rat’s nest, so-to-speak. They were willing to let him form the army, the Death Eaters, and start the process of getting rid of the muggle contamination. They only had to sit back and pay for the venture. They were all using the dark arts; Tom had many fine teachers when it came to that.”

“Something happened though that turned the tables, didn’t it Remus?” Harry ventured, “That’s what you haven’t told me yet. Something happened that made a half-blood, half- muggle born more powerful than the purest blood wizard.”

Remus nodded, answering, “Yes.”

Once again Harry waited, almost holding his breath. He could see that talking about it was difficult for the man.

“The Order of the Phoenix had a different purpose hundreds of years ago. It was made up of the finest wizards of its time, the most powerful wizards. They needed to be- because…” Remus turned to look at him, leaning over in his chair and speaking so low that Harry had to lean in as well, “It was their job to imprison and guard the most dreadful, the most terrible Evil, human-kind has ever known. Tom Riddle managed to tap into that evil like a well-spring of water. And Harry…he has but a miniscule amount of power that this source can produce. Can you imagine?” Lupin’s eyes reflected back a horror that made Harry catch his breath and shudder involuntarily.

He hissed, “Can you imagine if it got out? A ferocious, inhumane, killing, devouring Evil that would cover the world in darkness- wizard and muggle alike.” Remus’ eyes glared like the wolfish nature of the creature that hid beneath his skin, “That is the source of Riddle’s power, Harry. It is the source of immortality that he cannot reach, but wants desperately.”

His thoughts were flying as he looked into Remus’ face. Harry found his voice, it came out almost inaudibly, “Who guards this force now?”

“Only Albus knows,” Remus replied. “This information- that effects the whole world- is in the head of that man upstairs.”

They sat quietly for several minutes. Lupin stood slowly, bent his head and whispered into Harry’s ear, “Albus is one of the last of the true Order of the Phoenix, the last of the old Guardians. He is the only one who knows if there are more. If he dies, the means to allow this force to be freed is possible.” He stepped back. Harry’s eyes were inches from Lupin’s.

“What can we do?” Harry gasped.

Lupin stood erect and talked softly, “I don’t know. They study the problem in the Department of Mysteries. Those who delve into the Dark Arts have some knowledge. That’s why Snape has been very useful. He knows a lot and he has been very close to Albus. With V…the Dark Lord indisposed because of the potion you and Snape were able to give to him, he will seek with all his energy and forces to find a way to regain is strength… and accomplish this task of achieving immortality. He will use every means available I think- his Death Eaters- even muggles, to do this.”

Harry sat stunned and then began to realize that his presence meant something. “Why am I here, Remus?”

Lupin looked at him. The pain and fear that had invaded the eyes now was replaced with sadness and he mumbled, “We were hoping that you could get through to Albus. He called you ‘One of the Uncorrupted’. It meant something to him and we need to know what. We have to know how to fight this… Him.”

Harry was thinking of the prophecy that Dumbledore had told him. There were three that knew about the prophecy; Dumbledore , Snape and himself. He had spent the entire past year in disguise, having faked his own death, so that he could prepare to fight Voldemort.


He thought about it, So there is more to this than Dumbledore has told me, much more. “But Remus, what makes you think I can get through?” Harry asked.

“I think you are the only one that can, Harry. He loves you. You are the child he never had; his family.” There were tears in the man’s eyes. “Believe me Harry , I would take your place if I could. There are others that would do the same.” He shook his head, “ Not because we believe you’ve had it easy. No one should have to live with the burdens that have been placed on your shoulders. I want you to know that you have my deepest respect for the way you have conducted yourself; for the person you are.” Harry was stunned when tears spilled down his face. “If you choose to say no- there is no one who would blame you.” Lupin turned away hastily and said so that Harry strained to hear, “If they did I would kill them!”

Harry was so moved that he couldn’t speak. Dawn peeked in the windows , turning the library shelves pink, the gold on the leather bindings of the books- sparkled. Harry didn’t see them, or the rosy light that slowly illuminated the drawing room. All he could see was Nadya, his new wife; her black flashing eyes and her smooth creamy skin. She was laughing and running through the wild flowers of the meadow, her brightly colored skirts skimming the grass, her bare feet dancing and her joy-of-life look.

An hour went by in silence and the room grew lighter.

“I will need to talk to Snape and I will have to ask for help from the Romani,” was all that he said before leaving Lupin in the library, climbing the steps to the rooms he had shared with Ron Weasley two summers before. He threw himself on the bed and studied the ceiling. Although exhausted, Harry knew he wouldn’t sleep again for awhile.

Chapter Three

Harry donned his best robes and slowly walked down the stairs. He was going to his first Order of the Phoenix meeting. He had seen no one for two days other than Remus Lupin. Tonight, there would be several surprised people who did not know that he still lived and had changed his identity.

Harry had spent the last two days almost alone, having his meals with Lupin in the kitchen. They sat there eating and talking. “Tell me Remus,” he asked, “where did that miserable creature go? You know, Kreacher?”

Lupin smirked, “He’s in the coal room downstairs. He was forbidden to enter any of the upstairs rooms. Of course, he’s gone over you know; quite out of his mind. His joy in life would be to be beheaded and have his head hung the wall. Ugh!” Remus stopped eating as if thinking of it made him nauseous. “But there’s nothing to do for the creature. Actually, I think he likes it down there. We’ve given him a bunch of the old Lady Black’s things to placate him,” he said.

“I don’t know, Remus. I don’t like the idea of him down there. He was able to hurt Buckbeak and he lied to Sirius. I know that house elves can and do betray their masters. Dobby was able to do it, so can Kreacher. How can we have him in the house with so much going on?” Harry asked.

“If you have a solution I will help carry it out Harry,” Remus shook his head in frustration. “It’s better to have him here where we can watch him, then set him free. He’d go right to the Malfoys since Narcissa Malfoy is a Black by blood.”

“Yeah I know, Sirius told me about that,” Harry pondered. “Does he still refuse to obey Tonks?”

“He has so far,” Remus muttered. “By the way Harry, off the subject- tonight is a meeting of the Order. Will you be there for your initiation?”

Harry met the man’s eyes and nodded silently.

They ate in silence, neither of them enjoying their own cooking.

“Come on let’s talk of other things. Tell me about your wife and her people Harry,” Remus’ face lit up and there was a smile on his lips. Lupin had been at his wedding two weeks before.


Harry mood lightened as he spoke of Nadya, her mother and their people. He talked about traveling and setting up the fairs; his job as a stilt walker.

Remus listened intently. “You know Harry, they are some of the most mysterious and venerated wizards in the world, but very aloof. They have been invited to join the Wizengamot and have always been welcomed to represent themselves in the Ministry of Magic. No one could persuade them to do it, let alone be invited into their tribes. And here you are married to one of their own. I find that amazing.” Remus chewed thoughtfully. “Their magic is beyond my imagination; their skills legendary.”

“I’ve seen some of that,” Harry agreed. He was recalling his Spirit Walk the year before. “They are very tuned into nature, and it’s spirit.” He was speaking of his own use of the power of nature to cause a snowstorm, that had helped him and Snape escape from Voldemort and Malfoy. His friends in the family had taught him many things over a short period of time.

Lupin watched him and nodded, “Yes, I imagine you have.”

---------------

At half past eight, he found himself in the older wing of the house. Lupin told him how to find the large room that had once been a ballroom. Throughout the evening Harry heard the voices in the hallway and people entering and disappearing down the hall. Now he faced the heavy walnut doors and hesitated. He’d never been one for facing a lot of staring eyes. He also knew Lupin was preparing them with the news that he was now alive.

He opened the doors and found a at least thirty people looking back. In seconds, he was engulfed by arms around his neck; Ron, Fred, George, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley and others.

“Harry, oh my, we thought you were dead!” Mrs. Weasley was tearfully clinging to his neck while Arthur Weasley was trying to untangle her arms. Fred and George were busy pounding on his back. Others were making comments that he couldn’t hear.

McGonagal gave him a death-defying hug with tears in her eyes and said, “Mr. Potter. I should have known. You’re like a cat with nine lives.”

“Hello, Professor,” he grinned and felt a faint flush rise in his cheeks.

“Could we have some order?” came a voice from the front. It was Snape. The crowd quieted slowly.

Harry was still being introduced to newer members of the Order by Mad-Eye Moody. “Hold yer horses, Snape,” his voice boomed out. “And this here’ Horatio Dunkirk and Wanda Gorethunk. Ye know these heathens, Tonks and Shacklebolt. Okay, I guess we’d better get to business, I’ll introduce you to the lot of em after the meeting.” Moody thumped over to a chair and sat down staring frostily at Snape. “Get on with it Severus.”


Snape nodded to Harry who was guided to a seat next to him. The crowd calmed down and sat expectantly. “We’ve come together this evening for several reasons,” Snape began. “We will be initiating Mr. Potter into the Order of the Phoenix. After that we have some other business to attend to. The meeting will be short. I will also let people know where the next meeting will be held. Meeting altogether in one spot is essentially unsafe at this time.” Several people nodded and then waited expectantly. Snape stood and looked at Harry, a motion of his head indicated that Harry was to stand as well.

Arthur Weasley, Minerva McGonagal, Mad-Eye Moody and Snape formed a circle around him. Fred, George, Hermione and Ron left the room and came back dressed in full length white robes with a gold star on the breast of each. They each carried a robe of midnight blue with a silver star emblazoned on the front.

Ceremonially, they dressed Weasley, McGonagal, Moody and Snape in the blue robes and took a step back. Each was handed a burning white candle. Snape held a white robe for Harry. The four that encircled him pulled their wands from their pockets and pointed them at Harry’s chest.

Snape spoke, “You are here as an Initiate of the Order of the Phoenix. By answering, ‘I will’ to the questions that are posed, you are saying that you willing agree to abide by these rules and these obligations set before you. Do you understand?”

Harry answered,” I do.”

“Do you understand that those who have their wands pointed at you will kill you instantly if you should fail in your oath?”

“I do.”

“Very well. I, Severus Barnham Snape, son of Brahm Leviticus Snape and Matilda Green Veck, do stand in good stead of the Master of these Ceremonies and command the Initiate to answer straight and true, On Pain of Death.” Snape stood in front of Harry and spoke clearly, “Do you willingly ask for death at the hands of your peers should you break your vow of silence and betray the names of your fellow members,” Snape intoned.

“I will.”

“Will you willingly sacrifice your life, so that your fellow members and their families may live?”

“I will.”

“Do you vow that you will take your own life rather than have an allegiance to evil in any form?”

“I will.”

“Do you willingly accept the obligations of Order of the Phoenix as a priority, above all else, before all others; including family, friends and other personal ties?”

“I will.”

“Do you agree to abide by all the rules, orders and tasks assigned to you by any member of the Order regardless of their nature and without question and keep these proceedings secret?”

“I will.”

“ Do you vow to respect the lives of all creatures great and small.?”

“I will.”

“Who in this assembly will stand for this neophyte?” Snape asked.

“I, Remus Lupin the Third, son of Remus Lupin the Second and Dorothea Magnus,” Lupin said.

Lupin walked over and stood beside Harry. He wore a blue robe with the same silver star. He reached into the circle and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and said, “I do stand here in place of James Potter and Lillian Evans as the guardian of Harry James Potter until he reaches the age of seventeen and do vouchsafe for this neophyte and say that he takes these oaths without duress. So say I, On Pain of Death.”

“Neophyte, son of James Potter and Lillian Evans, do you swear these oaths, On Pain of Death?” Snape asked.

“I do,” Harry said.

Snape nodded at the other three and together they put their wands together and spoke, “So be it.” Replacing his wand, Snape took the white robe he had laid on a chair and draped it around Harry’s shoulders. “This oath you take is now binding, by our seal. You are now a neophyte in the Order of the Phoenix, Mr. Harry James Potter. Welcome, Brother.”

The entire group rose as one and solemnly filed by him, the most elder in the Order first, down to the neophytes like himself. Each touched him with their wands and said, “Welcome, Brother.”

It was Mrs. Weasley who sang out, “Tea is coming everyone. Hold the business until we’re all served.” Harry found himself with a tea tray in his hands passing out cups to everyone, alongside Hermione, Ron, Fred and George. They stood silently as the members of the group spoke.

“Have you heard from Hagrid, Severus?” McGonagal asked.

“He is still on his mission and should return shortly Minerva,” Snape spoke firmly, “I will leave it up to you to discuss Dumbledore’s current situation with him when he returns.”

She blanched but nodded.

“What about Albus?” Arthur Weasley asked. “Have we come up with any solutions?”

“We have brought Mr. Potter here to see if he can remedy that situation,” Snape said pointedly, ignoring Harry who stood against the wall. Half of the room turned to look at him. “I will be teaching him Legilimency. With some assistance, we’re hoping he can break through and reach Albus.”

“Bloody hell, Snape!” Moody glared, “That man’s mind is like a field of land mines.” Several people looked at him curiously. “That’s those explosive things that muggles use to blow themselves apart,” he said gruffly. “Why, my guess is Snape, Dumbledore has traps and hidden mazes in there where nobody could find their way- in or out.”

Snape nodded. “Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard. We’re hoping that Harry will be a benign presence and Dumbledore will recognize him and admit him.”

Moody grumbled under his breath.

Mrs. Weasley spoke, “He’s only sixteen years old people!” She got to her feet and looked at Harry at the rear of the room. “You know as well as I do that this is a serious matter. Dumbledore could kill him. Easily!”

“Molly, “Arthur started, pulling on her arm. “He’s a member of the Order now. He has the same right as anyone to lay his life on the line.” The red haired man didn’t look at the back wall where Harry stood.

“We could lose them both,” she protested. “Arthur, we just got Harry back from the dead!”

Harry stood stone-faced. He loved Mrs. Weasley for her kindness and generosity towards him, but he wanted her to stop her interference. He was not allowed to speak at the meeting and had to wait for others to add their thoughts.


“Very well,” Snape nodded, “our business is concluded. We will meet again in two nights. There are those of you who have individual reports and I’ll take those now.” He stood and stepped over to a desk placed in the corner of the large room. He looked over at Harry and said, “Mr. Potter, please don’t leave until we have had a word.”

Harry waited until the members left the room in twos separated by five to ten minutes. He stood on one foot and then another willing the room to empty quickly. Hermione and Ron knew that he would speak to them later and they left with George and Fred. They were staying at the house in the rooms they had previously occupied.

Molly Weasley gave him a quick hug, “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry dear. I know you can’t speak, which probably is a thing in my favor,” she smiled weakly. “ I’m sure you’re tired of my always standing in your road. I just wanted you to know that we care for you and love you as one of our own.” She went to move past him and then stopped. He heard a small sob. She managed to hold back the tears and say, “Harry, if you should find out that Percy has done something wrong… if you see into Albus’ thoughts, I mean. I…I don’t want to know. Alright?” she whispered. “I would rather let him go thinking he had changed his mind and wanted to come back to us.”

Harry knew what she meant. If anyone of them found out that Percy Weasley was in league with Voldemort, they were sworn to kill him out-right. Harry nodded not taking his eyes off of her. He bent and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s alright. Everything is going to be alright, Mrs. Weasley,” he murmured in her ear.

Arthur Weasley walked up, shook Harry’s hand and left behind her without speaking. As Harry accepted the handshakes and the goodwill of people walking by, he began to wonder what he was up against.


“Mr. Potter,” Snape called to him. Tonks and Shacklebolt had just left him. The room was empty. “Your friends will be here late this evening.” He was referring to Jolie Pulani, a Romani or gypsy and part of the tribe that Harry lived with. Harry’s own new bride was a member of the Kumpania.

“Are we going to do this tonight?” Harry asked.

Snape looked up from the multiple pieces of parchment he was bent over studying. Harry noticed that he was looking mildly worried, something Harry had never seen on the man’s face.

Are you worried about me? Harry wondered and almost laughed, Professor Severus Snape, the terror of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, worried about Harry James Potter. Huh! That will be the day.

“Yes, Mr. Potter we are going to begin tonight,” Snape answered, straightening to his full height. “Let’s just hope you’re a better student at Legilimency then you are Occlumency.”

Ah, there it is, Harry thought, You took your shot. “Anything else, Professor? If not, I’m going to my room to rest.” He didn’t want to continue to play games with Snape all night. Two weeks to the night, Snape had attended his wedding and they had exchanged civil words with one another. Evidently Snape felt the need to regain his ground. Harry waited for his permission to leave and knew that he could turn the tables very quickly on the older man.

“No…” Snape looked uncertain.

Harry frowned and waited an extra minute before turning and leaving the room. He was still dressed in the white neophyte robe when he entered his bedroom and found Hermione, Ron, George and Fred there.

Since Ron and Hermione had been aware that Harry was still alive during the last school year, they waited until Fred and George had their say before settling down to talk about the meeting.

“By Jove, mate,” Fred laughed, “your married!”

“Yeah, what’s that like?” George’s eyebrows went up to his scarlet hairline.

Harry smiled and felt a blush rising in his cheeks.

“You two stop now!” Hermione said, pulling out her wand. “We are not going to let this degenerate into something rude. Harry’s wife is an absolutely gorgeous girl and that’s it.” She confronted George and Fred with a steely look and they settled down almost immediately. “Good.”

“Harry, you’re going to go into Dumbledore’s mind,” Fred whistled and said, “Mum was right you know. I think Albus Dumbledore is wickedly brilliant, but who knows what goes on inside that head.” George nodded in agreement.

Harry looked pointedly at Ron as he listened to the conversation laying prone on the four poster bed. “ Since you’re all here there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” They gathered around him, each finding a position on one of the two beds in the room while he stood looking down at them. Ron watched him with a serious expression on his face. Harry continued, “I’m trusting all of you with something really important. You’ll have to swear to it.” Harry looked directly at Ron.

“What Harry?” Hermione asked. She was lying in front of Ron. He had one arm propping up his head and the other draped over her.

“If something happens to me I want you all to swear that you’ll look after Nadya, no matter what- for the rest of your lives. You’ll protect her and keep her safe,” Harry said it and waited. The response was immediate from Fred and George and Hermione.

Ron rolled off the bed and stood up, walked over to Harry and said, “You didn’t have to ask, Harry. It’s a done deal.” Harry gave Ron a hug and held him, listening to his beating heart. It was the first time in months that he felt tears fill his eyes.

“Break it up you two,” Fred laughed. “Pumpkin juice for all.” The table near the draped window was suddenly filled with treats. The others went over to examine the goodies while Harry stood looking at his friend.

“Sorry about your brother,” Harry said. “I’ve been occupied. It’s no excuse really but I’m here for you as well. I hope you know that.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m good.” They had gotten to the point in their relationship where both knew what the other was feeling and thinking. They gave each other another quick hug and parted.

“How are you and ‘ermione doing?” Harry accepted a pumpkin pasty from George and went back, sat on the bed and offered half to Ron.

Ron blushed, “We’re good. I’m going to meet her parents later this summer. Been invited to go with them to France. They like to holiday there. Two weeks.”

“Really!” Harry grinned, “Two weeks.”

“Well, you know, if everything goes all right,” Ron said soberly.

“Go anyway, Ron, no matter what. It might be the only chance you get before school starts.” Harry watched Hermione and the twins talking in the corner and finished, “We have to take life as it comes. Besides it might be safer there then hanging around this place.”

“You’re probably right,” Ron nodded. “Harry, I won’t go if you think you might need me or ‘ermione.”

“Ron, I’ve got Lupin and Moody,” he tried to smile and said, “and Severus!”

Ron grimaced, “Yeah what’s up with him? I’ll tell ya Harry, I never liked him and never will. And here we are in the same secret society and I have to sacrifice my life for him- if it ever comes to that.” Ron looked morose.

Harry burst out laughing.

“What’s up you two?” Hermione asked, strolling over and offering Ron a drink from her glass.

“Nothing, just us blokes talking,” Ron said.

“We’ve got about two hours for you to fill me in on everything,” Harry said. “Wait let me get some butterbeer.” He leapt up and fetched a drink and then curled up on the bed while the four of them talked. They talked about school and the shop the Fred and George were running.

Chapter Four


Harry met Jolie and Pascal in the hallway at midnight. They were elders from the Romani camp and his close friends. Jolie was a small, thin man, a head shorter than Harry. He wore a hat pulled down raucously over his forehead; it hid the dark laughing eyes beneath. Jolie was in the habit of twisting his curled moustache and flashing the gold front teeth. He also liked to chew on a long stem pipe and smoke it frequently.

His companion, Pascal, was a cousin that sometimes joined the caravan with his own family and sometimes broke off to travel the road with other families. Harry didn’t know him as well. He was a larger man, hat in hand and standing quietly behind Jolie. Both men were dressed in their normal clothing. Pascal wore suspenders and pulled on them nervously.

“Chav (dear child)!” Jolie said and hugged Harry. “Mushto hom me di kava tute (I have missed you).”

“Jolie, I left you two days ago. How could you miss me?” Harry said in Romani.

“ Ah, it is the way I am. So, you need this old Roma again, eh?” Jolie flashed the gold teeth. “Good, good. I am here.” He tapped his chest as if boasting. Harry knew it was an act. Jolie was a ‘godaver manush’ ( a wise man and wizard) on equal if not better footing in some things than Albus Dumbledore.

Harry hugged Pascal. “Has the road been good for you, friend?” he asked.

“Yes, friend,” Pascal said and hugged him back. He smiled shyly down at Harry.

“Sit tut bocklo (are you hungry)? Harry asked. It was customary to ask about the comfort of his guests.

“We are well,” Jolie said.

“Then we’ll go upstairs.” Harry led the way to Dumbledore’s room. Madam Pomphrey had been sent to bed and Snape sat in the chair by Albus. He stood when the men entered the room.

“Hello, Old Crow,” Jolie said warmly in Romani and shook hands with Snape using both of his own.

Harry noticed the look on Snape’s face. He must be learning Romani, he thought. He knows what Jolie just called him.

Jolie turned to look at Albus, bent over the bed, examined his face and smelled his breath, “He is mullo (possessed )?”

Snape shook his head.

“Pascal, look at this Gadjo( non-gypsy) and tell me what you think.” Jolie nodded for the man to take his place. “It’s alright Harry. He knows what he’s doing, that’s why I’ve brought him along.”

Pascal wrinkled his nose, touched Dumbledore’s chest and looked around the room. Harry watched nervously. The man examined the room and got down on his knees to look under the bed. He pulled the bed clothes down and examined Dumbledore’s body in detail.

“What’s he doing Jolie?” Harry asked.

Snape stood, arms crossed, watching the man examine Dumbledore.

“Looking for marks or hexes, talisman or amulets,” Jolie said putting his finger to his lips. “We wait.”

Pascal finished and gently covered the unconscious form. He shook his head at them.

“He is not haunted by a dead person,” he said. “We can proceed.”

Harry translated for Snape, “He says that we can go ahead.” He then spoke in Romani to Jolie, “ He’s going to teach me how to go into the mind of this man. To look in his head and see the pictures there and find out why he is like this.”

Jolie looked at him as if he had gone mental. He turned and looked at Pascal who shrugged his shoulders and turned his palms out. “You’re going to travel into his head?” he asked.

“Yes.” Harry nodded at Snape. “He has to show me how.” Harry had been taught to Spirit Walk, leave his body and travel to meet others. Jolie had been his teacher and guide. Now Harry was hoping that Jolie and Pascal were added measures of safety, that the combination of Snape’s skill and the gypsy’s skills would help him accomplish the task.

“This, I want to see,” Jolie said in Romani and smiled. “You- Black Crow- you can do this?” he asked Snape in English.

“My name is Severus or Mr. Snape if you like,” Snape said, “And yes, I can do this Mr. Pulani.”

“Jolie, call me Jolie,” Jolie said. “It is not bad you have name of Crow. It is a lucky name for our people. It means ‘Happy Journey’. ” Jolie was being his usual charming, vivacious self, like a puppy nipping playfully at ones’ heels; Snape was like a snake, curled and ready to strike.

“I’d prefer Severus if you don’t mind,” Snape snapped, waspishly.


Harry had to shake his head in wonder. These two had known each other for almost a year and they were circling each other like two dogs.

“Okay! Professor what do I need to do.”

Snape explained, “You will perform the spell as I explained before. You will use your mind and will, like a wedge opening a door. If you get in, the memories and thoughts will flash by very quickly. Initially, many people become nauseous from the physical feeling. It’s like spinning in a circle very fast. I don’t expect you to get to that point his evening.”

“Tell me everything to expect, Professor,” Harry asked politely. “I probably won’t be successful but I need to know what to do with what I see.”

Snape glared at him for a moment and Harry remembered the feeling he’d experienced in Snape’s potion's classes when Snape had given him that look. He was about to say something when Snape spoke, “Very well. It is very much one-sided. You don’t talk to one another, you are the viewer and the other person ‘plays out their memories’. With a normal person, that is. However, Dumbledore is not a normal wizard. I think you can expect many things or perhaps nothing. He’s quite capable of keeping you out even in an unconscious state.”

“Have you tried?” Harry asked him.

“No,” Snape said and hesitated. He was watching Harry and said, “I thought it would be best if we do this together. I can act as your anchor, add to your power to generate the spell and act as your guide.”

Harry knew why he hesitated. They had done something like this before and it had involved Harry’s dead mother. Harry watched Snape’s face as he translated for Jolie and Pascal.

Jolie asked Harry to step on the landing outside the bedroom door. “Harry, I think that there should be some precautions taken if you are going to take this journey.”

“What do you suggest, Jolie?” Harry asked.

“What do you know of this man Dumbledore and of the black crow-man, Snape?” he asked in return.

“What do you mean, ‘know’?”

“If we go into another’s mind there may be places that are familiar and many that are not; a road traveled rather than one unused," he ansered.

Jolie squatted down as if he had a fire next to him. He pulled Harry down with him. It was a normal gesture for him. “The things we share with each other- those are familiar, a trail we can recognize. But there are many things that remain hidden in a man, sometimes shameful, unpleasant or ugly. We hide our faces with our hands. How do you hide your mind?” Jolie watched him with knitted brows. His gold-ringed fingers tugged on the moustache.

Harry understood what he was saying. “He might try and block the way if there was something he didn’t want anyone to know,” Harry said considering it. “I know very little about the two of them, as you already know, Jolie. I didn’t know about Severus and my mother for one thing. Dumbledore has been my headmaster at school. I don’t know if he even has any family.”

Jolie nodded.

“Learning about someone takes a lifetime, and that, I don’t have,” Harry said grimly.

“Yes, that’s true,” he answered. “But this man will be your guide and he knows this Albus more. You have to trust him. He knows the road better than you. There are more familiar markings for him. And remember Harry, Kai zhalo vurdon vurma mekela (where the wagon goes a trail will follow).” It was an old Romani saying.

“What are you saying, Jolie?” Harry asked confused.

“If you get lost, follow the road you know back,” Jolie said.

They re-entered the room. Harry wasn’t sure how to approach Snape. “I need to ask you a question Professor,” Harry said.

Snape nodded.

“When you were teaching me Occlumency, I was able to force you out of my mind with a stinging spell.”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“What will it be like if Albus thinks we are invaders rather than friends? Harry asked.

“He’ll kill us,” Snape said, simply. “Probably in a very painful way.”

Harry considered it and then nodded in assent. “It would help if I’m not calling you ‘Professor’ all the time. I think if we’re going to do this it might help to call you by name,” Harry said.

Snape nodded again.

“Alright, then,” Harry said and sat down, waiting until everyone had taken a seat. “Jolie made a point to me a minute ago and I thought it was a good one. We want to do this as safely as we can. He reminded me that I don’t really know you and Albus very well. Not as people, not your personal lives anyway. And…and if I’m reading Albus’ memories, thoughts- whatever- well, I can’t ignore the fact that I won’t recognize or understand most of it. Jolie says that you’ll be better at it because you have known each other for so long.”

“Yes, essentially that’s true,” Snape confirmed.

“He also says that people naturally have many things they’d rather not share with others, very private thoughts…” Harry stumbled on the word and then took a breath, “You and I have managed to stumble on a few of those ourselves during lessons.”

Snape sat motionless and then said, “Yes, you’re right. The boundary between our minds will also be thin when we try and interpret what Albus is thinking and feeling.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Do you know of any sensitive issues that might help me? Or areas to avoid,” he finished, “for Albus… or for you?”

“Thank you for being thoughtful, Mr. Potter,” Snape said.

“ HARRY, Snape; call me Harry,” Harry said, irritably.

Snape shifted in his chair. Jolie and Pascal were watching intently, not understanding the entire conversation, but listening.

“I am a proficient Legilimens, Harry…” Snape said, “I will most probably be able to handle any intrusions you attempt on your part.”

Harry said politely, “Good, good.” He waited and then added, “And intrusions on your part- in my mind. How do we handle those?”

“I shall endeavor to focus my mind on Albus,” Snape said. The air seemed to fill with tension and Harry almost felt like giving up. “Potter, there is one thing…” this said in a less defensive tone.

Harry sat looking at Snape and thinking. What is it with you? Why do you have to be so bloody ugly and mean? What did I ever do to you? “What is it?”

“We may learn some things that no one else should ever know about,” Snape looked strangely uncomfortable.

Harry nodded again. “I understand.”

“Are you ready to begin?” Snape asked. His face was a blank page.

No, Snape. I’d rather be eaten by wolves alive then share my mind with you, he was thinking. Harry translated what their intentions were to Jolie and Pascal and pulled out his wand.

“Severus," the word rolled uncomfortably on his tongue, "have you ever attempted Legilimens with Dumbledore?” Harry asked, standing and pointing his wand at Dumbledore. They stood side-by-side.

“No,” he answered. Snape was taller and looked down his long equine nose at Harry, “Any further questions?

“I’m ready.” Harry turned to Dumbledore and intoned along with Snape, “Legilimens.”


Harry had experienced the sensation of using floo powder to travel from fireplace to fireplace. It was a standard method of travel that he preferred not to use. He found that the spinning, heat and choking sensations of the method were always unpleasant and left him disoriented more often than not. As he spoke the words Legilimens and pointed his wand, focusing his mind, he felt the same type of overpowering sensation.

Unlike other spells, where he felt the power come from him; he realized this felt more like a portkey, another wizard method of travel. He felt himself being pulled into a world of dizzying sights and sounds and fast moving pictures. He had the sense of a presence nearby which he knew to be a Snape. This too, was unlike his previous experience in Spirit Walking with the man. The boundary between them was blurred and to Harry it felt like their two minds crossed over.

Harry could hear Snape’s voice as if it were in his own head.

“This is very unusual. We are being pulled in,” the voice said. “Try and stay relaxed Harry, breath deeply. I’m thinking of a favorite moment in my memory that felt very relaxing,” Snape’s voice drifted up and down in volume. “Don’t fight him. Let him pull us in.”

Harry seemed to wake as if from a dream. He stood in a long paneled hallway. There were no windows and no doors. Lamps lit the wood and warmed its’ polished surface. The floor was carpeted with a rose-colored, deep-pile carpet.

Snape stood at his side. He looked so solid that Harry was tempted to reach out and touch him. The terrible whirling and spinning was completely gone.

Snape looked at him and frowned. “This is most unusual. Stay focused.” He said the words without moving his mouth and his voice was very clear.

“Hello,” a familiar voice echoed down the hall. “May I be of service to you? Are you lost?” Albus Dumbledore walked towards them, dressed in light blue robes. He was smiling pleasantly.

He glanced around. “Perhaps I can show you the way, although… I seem to be misplaced myself,” Dumbledore said studying the hallway.

Harry could hear Snape’s voice in his head, “He doesn’t recognize us. Be careful.”

“Ah no, this is the way. Follow me,” he turned and walked back down the hall and they followed silently. “’Yes, yes. This is such a large place, easy to get lost,” he mumbled. “I don’t remember having guests before. That’s fine. We’ll just go down here.”

They turned a corner and found another long hallway. Dumbledore stopped for a moment, “Hmm, don’t remember this. Nevertheless… I should like to offer you some tea. Perhaps if we go this way.” They turned to another hallway. To Harry each hallway looked the same and he was feeling lost.

“Albus, you are a guest in my home. Let me show you the way,” Snape’s voice was silky. “Remember the day you came to fetch me. It was my first time at Hogwarts. You’re in Snape Manor.”

“Severus, my boy!” Albus’ eyes lit up. He was not looking at them, but walked down the hall a little faster, “Now I know where I am. I was a little confused before. Follow me!”

“Harry, this is going to be unpleasant, but it cannot be helped,” Snape’s voice bled into his thoughts.

“I think this is it!” Dumbledore opened a door that had not been there a minute before. He led them into a room.

“He is remembering how we met…” Snape explained to Harry.

“Oh my boy, my poor boy,” Dumbledore moaned. He held a boy of about eleven in his arm’s. Harry knew the boy. He had seen him in Snape’s mind when they had practiced Occlumency. It was Snape as a child. “How can the world treat it’s children in this way?” Dumbledore turned to them. His eyes were full of tears. Harry could see what he cried about. The child’s dark eyes stared at them in terror; his body badly bruised. Harry knew in his heart that the child was beyond tears. He had been abused so many times that he no longer knew how to cry. He could feel himself wandering into Snape’s mind and saw the terror and pain there. Snape shoved him away and Harry spun back into his own thoughts.

“Time to go, Albus, You have saved me from my parents and I am well,” Snape’s sad voice resounded through the room like a whispered echo.

They were once again in the hallway. “There are so many of them. I don’t have enough time,” This time Dumbledore looked frantic. “Will you help me gather them. All the little ones?”

“Call to him Harry. He’s caught in a trap of his memories.”

“Albus, it’s Harry, Harry Potter,” Harry stood in front of the man and opened his mouth. “It’s me Professor, it’s Harry.”

Dumbledore peered into his eyes penetrating into the core of Harry’s brain. It almost felt like a cold shaft of steel and it hurt. “Harry?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s me.” Harry could feel a vise-like grip in his head.

“Is it you?” Dumbledore squinted, “Or do you mock me? Your not Harry!”

“You have to convince him.” Snape turned and looked directly into Harry’s eyes. “He’s dangerous if he doesn’t believe you.”

What can I say to make him believe? Harry thought. The pain was getting stronger.

“I’ll show you the real Harry Potter!” Dumbledore said and took off down the hall, “Not an imposter!” They followed him.

Dumbledore opened a door that lead to dark street in front of Number Four Privet Drive. He held a small bundle in his arms. “ Little Harry,” he said to the sleeping child, “ you’ll never know that your father died to save the world, and your mother died to save you. But you will never lack from love.” Dumbledore kissed the child’s head and laid it on the step to the house. “This is but a temporary home, Harry. When you’re ready you will come to your true home.”

Harry felt his heart erupt in his chest and tears welling up in his throat.

They stood again in the hallway. Dumbledore looked at them as if they were real. There was a moment of pure sanity and clarity when he said, “Take me home children.” He said it as if he knew why they were there and was sending out; one last overpowering, desperate message.

And then, he degenerated into an angry, shouting person that Harry had never seen before. “You will not harm my children!”

They were thrown from his mind. Harry thought he was flying too fast and didn’t know a way to slow himself down or stop. “Severus!” he shouted, flailing his arms in the spinning well that seemed to surround him. “ Help me! I ’m falling.”

“Harry,” Jolie’s voice penetrated his mind. “Listen to the beat of my heart. Listen closely, follow the sound and it will bring you to me. Listen…”

Harry concentrated. Yes, I can hear it, he thought. It was very faint and very fast. Jolie, I can hear it!

“Follow it back. It is my heart, come back to us,” Jolie’s voice was soft.
---------------

It was some time before Harry opened his eyes. The room was familiar but he wasn’t sure where he was and why he was there. Then, he remembered. He glanced over and saw Snape watching him from a chair. Harry was sprawled on a bed in a room in Sirius’ house.

“Did we do it?” he gasped.

Snape looked exhausted. “Yes.”

“Where is Jolie and Pascal?” Harry asked, sitting up gingerly. He felt sore all over.

“They are downstairs having breakfast,” Snape said. He looked unusually frail and aged.

“Is it morning already?” Harry looked around. Drapes covered the window and the room was lit with candles. “Are you alright?” Harry asked. “I feel like I’ve been kicked around.”

Snape watched him. “Actually, Mr. Potter, it’s been two days. This is the morning of the third day.”

“What do you mean?” Harry felt light-headed. “Two days!”

“Yes,” Snape didn’t move. His hand was over his eyes and he was slumped in the chair in a very uncharacteristic-like pose. “We were very lucky. I hadn’t expected that to happen. Albus just drew us in. He also very neatly kicked us out, too. Your friends helped us get back.” He looked up and dropped his hand to the chair arm.

Harry waited, thinking through what he’d just heard. “Can you help me understand what it all meant?”

The man dressed in black studied him and was a long time in answering. “I believe that Albus needs to be at Hogwarts to recover. I think the source of his power and strength lies there,” Snape said and straightened. He looked like Harry felt, bruised and sore.

Harry marveled at the struggle that was taking place inside the man as he sat and watched his face. He wasn’t sure that Snape could accept the need to join forces with him. They had already been through a lot together and yet Snape always drew back, defensive and petulant. Harry had just shared minds with the man that sat before him. He knew Snape! But he also knew he could not be pushed.


“Potter, you know who the Guardians are?””

Harry shivered as if the room had grown cold. “Guardians?”

“Remus told you, don’t be thick,” Snape scolded. “The true Guardians of the Order of the Phoenix,” Snape said.

“Yes. He told me something about it,” Harry answered. “He didn’t know much, just that Albus was one of few…”


“Did he also tell you your father was one?” Snape said.

“No!” Harry sucked in his breath. “God no, he didn’t.”

“Griffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin; all Guardians.”

“They were?” Harry forgot his stiffness and soreness in his body. “Slytherin, too?”

“Yes. The founders of Hogwarts were all Guardians. That was until Slytherin decided to use the dark power to become the most powerful wizard in the world. He left Hogwarts when the others refused to maintain the purity… the purebloods.”

Snape sat staring into the room, his gaze unfocused. “There have been Guardians that followed, of course. Drawn from the students that attended Hogwarts.” Snape put his hands together and templed his fingers, raising them to his forehead in an uncharacteristic moment of exhaustion. “Each generation of Guardian seeks to add to the Order: the true Order. I won’t speak of it’s mission here, but you are aware of it.“

Harry nodded.

“Your father was a Guardian, so it is easy to conjecture that you would be as well. Dumbledore knew who those children would be; he chose them for very special qualities. Children that were abused,” Snape’s voice cracked slightly and then he pulled it back, “children without parents. The new generation…” he broke off.

Harry’s mind flew with activity, “Tom Riddle, an orphan; his only home was Hogwarts,” Harry surmised. “And me, an orphan. My only true home has been Hogwarts.” Harry was thinking of others, Neville Longbottom, for one.

“Yes. Riddle would have been prepared-trained- to become one of the Guardians, but he left Hogwarts,” Snape looked thoughtful. “I doubt he knows what he did to himself.”

“And you?” Harry asked. “Dumbledore rescued you.”

Snape dropped his head, a look of agony flashing across it. He pulled up his sleeve and exposed the Dark Mark that glowed against his skin. “Because of this-I am not suitable.”

“Why did you take it then?” Harry asked. “Why did you let Voldemort mark you?”

Snape threw back his head and closed his eyes. He remained silent.

“You know, Professor, “ Harry began, trying to keep his voice level and calm, “all I ever hear is part-truths. Just when I think I know and understand, I run into another layer of secrets; layer after layer after layer, from everyone. Dumbledore kept them. And you… I had to learn that you loved my mother so that I could see her after she was dead! I find out that you stop becoming a Death Eater because Voldemort killed her. Now, I find that my father was a Guardian and died guarding, protecting… this, this…”

“Potter!” Snape’ eyes snapped open, “Not here!”

“What more am I going to learn? I‘m to be groomed for this job of Guardian? That Dumbledore went around choosing orphan children, without homes, so that we could grow up to take his place?”


“Would that be such a horrible imposition, Mr. Potter. I would take your place in a heart beat!” Snape glared.

“Is that it?” Harry slid off the bed and stood in front of Snape, and looked down at him, “Is that why you hate me? Why you’ve become such a bitter man? Because you can’t become Guardian? That you took a pledge to not have an allegiance to evil and you broke that promise?” Harry could feel his anger rising unexpectedly, “On pain of death, I might add. But you’re not dead!” He felt the words coming effortlessly from his mouth, “If you wanted to be a Guardian why did you go over to Voldemort?”

“Stop saying the evil bastard’s name!” Snape shouted. He was on his feet towering over Harry. They had both reached for their wands without thinking.

“Why? It’s always the Dark Lord this, and the Dark Lord that. Where do your loyalties lie, Snape? Why aren‘t you dead? Why didn‘t Albus kill you the minute you broke your vow to the Order?”

“I am not the resource of all knowledge for you to dip into whenever your heart desires, Mr. Potter,” Snape shouted, his face hardened.

They both were caught off guard by the door springing open. It was Hermione.

“Get out!” they both shouted. She paled and closed the door. They stood now, nose to nose, both furious.
.
“You were among the children chosen. Dumbledore loved you!” Harry shouted. “How could you do this to him?”

“You’ve got it wrong as usual, Potter,” Snape said, through his gritted teeth. “I took the mark because Albus asked me to.”

Harry was dumbfounded. “You what?”

“I took it willingly.” Snape turned and dropped into his chair as if deflated. The fury was over. Harry stood staring at him in horror.

Snape looked at the wall and said dreamily, “Albus told me once that it is only through knowing Evil that we can know Good. Each child he chose had known evil, and, in their own way-marked by it. Supposedly, once marked as innocent child you become the Uncorruptable.”

Harry slumped down on the bed. “The Uncorrupted.” That’s the term Lupin used that he didn’t understand.

Snape smirked, “That’s what’s suppose to happen. But obviously it doesn’t always turn out that way. Tom Riddle became corrupted, as others have been. We are human beings and very fragile when it comes to that. Vanity, greed… the hunger for power, jealousy… whatever, it gets us all.” He turned sharp, obsidian eyes at Harry. “It is a powerful master.”

Harry instantly knew the reason why Snape had been watching him, angry with him all those years. He’d been waiting for him to become corrupted; had even accused him of arrogance and big-headedness.

Is that why you’ve hated me, he thought. Because you were afraid? Afraid that I would fail Albus and turn into a dark wizard? That I would fail the man you love?

“Why did he ask you to take Vol…the Dark Lord’s mark? Harry asked gently.

“He has never told me the reasons and I have never asked,” Snape replied.

Harry was amazed at the number of sacrifices the man had made. “You were afraid that you would find out the reason when we entered Albus’ mind.” Harry knew it was true. They had shared each others minds and the fading residue of knowing what was in his mind was still there.

Snape remained still.

“No one knows any of this but Dumbledore,” Harry said sitting back, “and me. I will keep it to my dying day, Professor.”

“The source of his power is at Hogwarts,” Snape said quietly. “We must get him back there soon. It is clear that he has lost his way.”

Chapter Five


Harry learned that very evening that he would act as one of the guards escorting the still-comatose Dumbledore back to Hogwarts.

He spent time with Ron and Hermione more than the others during the afternoon. Snape and Lupin had gone out to make arrangements. The meeting of the Order would take place without them at another location to prevent another incident like the one that had taken place at the Ministry of Magic.

Harry found Hermione alone in the drawing room. “Hermione?” She sat on a sofa, her feet tucked up, reading and looked up when he slipped in the room.

“Hello, Harry.” Her face was calm.

“I wanted to apologize,” he began.

“No, Harry, don’t” She moved over on the sofa and patted the empty space with her hand. “Come over here and sit with me. We can both fit.” They scrunched in with Harry hanging his legs over the end and dropping his head into her lap. “Yes, that’s it.” She smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead, her fingers lightly touching the scar. “Do you feel silly like this?”

He shook his head. Actually it felt very good. There had been very few times in his life he remembered the gentle touch of a woman. Hermione stroked his face. “I’m fine, ‘Mione.”

“Good. Then I want you to listen to me,” she spoke softly. “You and Ron are my best friends. I love both of you with all my heart. ‘Course I really love Ron, if you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes and said, “But we’ll let him struggle with that for awhile before I let him off the hook.” She giggled and Harry could feel her slim belly bouncing his head.

He closed his eyes and listened to her mellow voice, “What I mean is that I’m here for you. It seems that you are drifting away from us. That so much is taking place in your life; it’s changing. And you’re acting so different and not letting us in like you used to.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked up, started to say something and felt the warm touch of her fingers on his lips.

“That’s the way it’s suppose to be,” she said. “We’re not children anymore and you more than anybody has more on their plate than the rest of us. I know you have to keep secrets. I know you have a horrible burden that you’re carrying around. Something that you can’t even tell Ron or me about and that’s alright. I wish you could, because-it helps to share. But if you can’t that’s alright, too. You’ll never lose my loyalty -no matter what.” Harry could feel a warm tear drop from her cheek to his mouth. He could taste the saltiness. “Part of that burden is worrying about us and our safety. But we share the same worry for you, Harry,” Her arm held his head. “Do you know what it was like when we thought you had died?”

Harry thought about losing Sirius and what it would be like if Ron or Hermione died. He nodded and swallowing hard.

“I just want you to know, that no matter what- even if we don’t see each other for years and years, that my feelings for you aren’t going to change.”

Harry lay in her lap, his eyes closed and thought about the secret he was carrying; the prophecy. He knew he couldn’t tell her. If she were captured and tortured, it would be to the ruin of them all. That was the burden he carried. It was always about taking care of the world, even if it meant sacrificing his friends. The choices he had were appalling and the thought crushed him. Harry reached around and buried his face in her stomach and pulled her in with his arm.

“’Mione!” he gasped, feeling the hot tears. “I can’t tell you, I can’t!”

“I know, Harry,” she petted his head and rocked him. “It’s alright.”

Ron walked in and Harry stiffened.

“No, Harry.” Hermione locked her arms around him. “Come here, Ron.” Ron walked over and sat at the edge of the chair. He looked into Harry’s anguished face and patted his arm nodding. The three held each other and cried together. And then, laughed.

---------------

At ten o’clock the small group of four people and one sitting in a wheelchair made its’ way down the street. Street lights suddenly and mysteriously went out as the group made its way down the sidewalk. Moody, McGonagal, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry escorted the wheelchair to the corner. Harry threw out his wand hand, and stepped back quickly. He’d already had a narrow miss with the Knight bus before and he didn‘t want anything to draw attention to them.


The group had considered alternative ways to transport Dumbledore. Since the Floo Network was part of the Ministry of Magic it couldn’t be trusted after the break-in and massacre. They couldn’t use brooms and they couldn’t apparate.

Moody had taken Harry aside earlier in the evening. “Now, Harry,” he said, his one eye rolling, “I have to know that you are ready to kill someone if they attack us. There can’t be no hesitation. You must be willing to protect Albus with your life.”

Harry felt irritated with the man. “I know that Moody.”

“Ah leave him be, Moody,” Shacklebolt said. He had arrived during the conversation. “I think that we can trust Harry to do what he needs to do. I think he’s proved that already.”
---------------


The Knight bus arrived with its’ usual roaring fury. Harry immediately stepped up and pointed a wand at Stan Turnpike, the self-proclaimed conductor of the Knight bus; a boy a year or two older than Harry. “We won’t be having any shouting or noise,” Harry whispered. He kept his wand pointed into Stan’s face and spoke to the driver, “I’ll thank you to put out the inside lights, Ernie.”

“Yes, indeed, Mister. Just point yer wand ‘nother direction. There ya go, that’s a good lad.” Ernie watched wide-eyed as McGonagal waved her wand and settled the wheelchair down on the floor of the bus. His eyes grew even wider when he recognized Dumbledore.

“I think that this will compensate you for taking us directly to Hogsmeade,” McGonagal said and dropped two galleons in Ernie’s hand.

“Yes, ma’am. It’ll do nicely.” He tipped his head to her.

“Who else is on the bus, Stan?” Harry asked. Shacklebolt was already on the stairs to the upper levels.

“N’on’ ,” Stan stuttered, “Not else but you.”

“Good, good,” Harry muttered. He looked out the windows and gritted his teeth. Come on Shacklebolt, we need to leave! The streets remained empty and the streetlights seemed duller than usual.

“All’s clear up here, “ came the voice.

“Ernie,” Harry nodded to the man, “let’s go.” Moody and McGonagal were busy at the back of the bus with Dumbledore. They had laid him out on one of the bed’s that filled the Knight bus while Harry stood guard at the front.

They were off with a roar. Ernie’s driving had not improved, especially because he was now nervous about his new passengers. The street lamps took one step to the right for at least two blocks before the bus picked up speed and passed through London.

“Let’s pretend that this is an emergency, Ernie,” Harry murmured. “Step on it!” The houses whizzed by and Stan freckled face grew even whiter as they trundled down the road at death-defying speeds. Harry had to hold on to a leather strap and the bus took corners on two wheels. Harry wondered how Shacklebolt was fairing, he was on the third tier. The bus flew across a wooden bridge, the sound was like thunder.

They crossed into farm land. Harry bent to peer out the front windows. He wasn’t sure what he was suppose to be looking for but he knew that he could not let the driver slow down. They passed empty fields and rock walls; jumped past villages and through deserted landscapes.

“Can’t we avoid some of these towns Ernie,” Harry asked, raising his voice over the sound of the bus shaking and the engine. “Just a straight away to Hogsmeade?”

“Er, that’s what we’re doin lad. Jus’ hang on and we’ll be thar in no time,” he jerked the wheel and a fence jumped aside.

Suddenly there was a burst of light and the sound of shrieking metal on metal.

The three-tiered bus swerved wildly onto tires that smoked from the strain. Harry held onto the strap and watched as beds and pillows went tumbling end-over-end in slow motion. He heard the driver give a slight huff and saw him slide past, eyes wide. Harry held on as the bus rolled. He found himself hanging in mid-air seconds before being thrown through a broken window to the ground below. He landed in soft mossy turf and rolled down an embankment.

With an ear-splitting screech the bus landed inches from his head, wheels spinning in the air. Smoke billowed as the curtains caught fire, and there was a strong stench from burning tires. The two upper decks had detached and were scattered down a long stretch of country road. It had happened in seconds.

Crawling up the embankment, Harry held his wand, still clasped in his fingers and pointed it at the direction of every noise. There was still a lot of noise; and darkness.
The moon was covered with drifting clouds and they were in a wooded area.

Dumbledore! I’ve got to find Dumbledore, were his first thoughts. He knew that a warm liquid was running down his face, but couldn’t pay attention to it. His panicked thoughts were on the people that had been on the bus with him.

He crawled a few more feet and ran face first into a still form. White shone from the beard and hair. The rest was covered in a cloak. It was Dumbledore. Harry felt the body and put his head to the chest. The heart was beating and Dumbledore was breathing. He’d been thrown free of the bus too.

Harry could hear the raucous voice and the cold air that came in drafts towards him. His scar was burning as if a hot iron had been placed on his forehead.

Voldemort!

“Find them,” it said. “Kill no one! Bring them to me alive.”

Harry felt bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t let himself and Dumbledore be caught. Hurriedly throwing his cloak over the two of them, he began to slowly pull and crawl back down into the gully he’d just rolled into.

“LUMOS,” a figure at the top of the road lit the end of his wand. A light circled a small area. Harry could see the Dark Lord standing in the road.

He pulled and tugged on Dumbledore’s clothing. Harry knew that he had hurt himself, he could feel his own leg smarting in pain. So it was with some difficulty that he pulled himself and the weight of the unconscious man along with him. The bush became denser and he could feel sticks and leaves sticking to his head, filling his mouth with dirt.

Can’t let them find us, Albus. Harry wished he could wake the man. He could hear shouting and voices. The pain in his head was igniting his brain and he felt the cramping in his belly. I can’t , I can’t, he was thinking, pushing every thought from his mind and willing himself to not vomit up the contents of his dinner. And on he went, dragging both of them.

Harry pulled them under the boughs of a tree and gathered up leaves with his hands, piling them over the top of Dumbledore and then over himself. He lay listening to the dark. Harry estimated that he had crawled at least a hundred yards from the wreckage. He knew it wasn’t far enough, but could do nothing else. He had no strength left to go further.

“We’ve got the black man and Moody, master,” a oily voice said. It stood near the tree.

Voldemort’s cold voice was also near, “Find the others.” The rustling of feet told Harry they had moved away from his hiding position, but only feet away.

“If thee value thy life and the one who is with thee; thee will stay silent,” a voice as soft a breeze echoed in his ear.

Harry had heard a voice similar to this one before. In his mad escape from the Dursleys he had lost himself in the woods and had been befriended by a Woodglen elf. Harry later learned that he escaped almost certain death. The wood elves, unlike their cousins the house elves, were fierce warriors and they hated humans. The elf that found and befriended him then had saved his life because he knew who he was. Harry wasn’t sure that this elf would be so open-minded.

And yet, Harry also knew immediately when the elf put a Shielding Charm around them. All he needed to do was stay silent and make sure Dumbledore made no noise.


The same strange sensation that had occurred before in a similar situation; overtook him. He grew drowsy, the pain in his head receded and he let his head fall on Dumbledore’s rising and falling chest and fell asleep.
-------------

The woods came alive with the morning sunshine. The rustle of a squirrel woke Harry and he stared at it’s swishing tail for a minute before coming completely to his senses. The squirrel chattered at him and ran up the trunk of the tree.

He realized that his head rested on Dumbledore’s chest. Sitting up abruptly he bumped his head on the lower branch. Reaching up with his hand he examined Dumbledore’s face and then gently felt his body. He seemed to be alright except for the infernal sleep that he remained in. Harry on the other hand knew that he had been injured in the crash of the bus.

His face was caked with a stiff substance and his hands were covered with blood. The leg of his trousers was torn to his thigh and he could see a long ugly oozing gash the full length of his leg. He wasn’t sure but he also thought he’d hurt something inside. A sharp pain pierced his side. Pulling back the torn remnants of his cloak and shirt he could see a small hole in his side. It had bled profusely onto his clothes.

Harry lay, unable to move. It grew lighter and still he could not find the strength to pull himself out. He lay worrying about them. If he couldn’t hide them, Voldemort would return in the night and they’d eventually be found. As he laid there, he grew thirstier and the day grew warm. Insects buzzed around the sticky blood coating his head.

He grew drowsy and slipped into unconsciousness, still holding onto Dumbledore’s robe.
--------------
It was the coolness of the evening air that woke him. Harry rolled to his side with great difficulty and looked out from under the tree.

“If thee value thy life, thee will not move until told to,” a voice said.

Harry spoke the common greeting of respect in Romani, “Friend; May you always find peace in the woods, an arrow for your enemy and a friend in me.”

Two large gray eyes suddenly penetrated the shade of the bough. “Speak thy name human. How does thee know the greeting words?”

“I am Harry Potter and this is Albus Dumbledore. We are friends to the wood glen elf, Verillieon. We thank you for saving our lives from the Dark One, the Kalo Beng,” Harry rasped, his throat dry and burning from fever. He fell back on his back and gasped for breath. “Bring Verillieon.”

“This one grows weak. He will die.”

Harry heard the voice. It was so beautiful he thought it was singing. Darkness flooded in behind his eyes and he was no longer conscious.

Chapter Six

The Order was reassembled. They heard the news from Snape who leaned against a chair, all semblance of stiff formality gone. He was pale and sickly in appearance

The roar of voices drowned out his voice.

“Stop! Everyone quiet down.” Arthur Weasley stood and moved to Snape’s side immediately. “Take a chair Severus.”

Snape actually dropped heavily in the chair at Arthur’s request. He stared at the group with vacant eyes.

“Now tell us what happened?” Arthur said, gently.

Snape frowned at him like he would a child in one of his Potion’s classes. “The Knight bus was attacked.”

“Yes, yes, Severus, we know that.” Arthur gestured over to another person. “Get him some brandy, he’s in shock.”

A glass was slipped into Snape’s hand and he stared at it, confused.

“Drink it, Severus,” Arthur ordered.

“I’m fine,” Snape said, in a dead hollow tone, but drank the brandy. He took a minute and then stood. “I’m fine. The bus was attacked by… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters.” The crowd broke into whispering and then stopped at the dull, ugly look on Snape’s face. “McGonagal was hurt, but she immediately apparated to Gimmauld Place. She is at St. Mungo’s now.” Snape stood straighter and sat his glass on a table. “The rest are gone, taken.”

“Dumbledore?” someone asked.

“Harry!” Although forbidden to speak during meetings, Ron gasped out the word. Hermione was behind him, an arm wrapped protectively around his chest.

Snape looked up, “Silence!” The sound was a ghostly echo of his normal virulent speech. “We cannot examine the site until we are sure that it is safe. Steps have been taken to guard it from muggle eyes, but there is nothing to say that He will not return.”

“We don’t know if they’re alive?” Mrs. Weasley asked weakly.

“We know nothing more then what I have already stated,” Snape said. “Minerva apparated and was not able to tell what happened.”

Elphius Dodge stood, “I would like to volunteer to go to the site and examine it.” Another member of the Order stood, Emmeline Vance. The two of them had been part of a group that had rescued Harry from the Dursleys at one time.

Other people began to stand. “I’ll go.”

“I’ll go and see Minerva,” Mrs. Weasley said and took her cloak.

“I will as well,” said another.

“Where’s Lupin?” Someone asked.

Arthur Weasley answered for Snape, “He was on the receiving end. He’s at Hogsmeade and should be here shortly.”

At that, the door burst open and Lupin hurried forward into the room. “What news do we have?”

“McGonagal’s injured but alive, the rest have been taken,” Arthur said.

Lupin paled and sat down. He stared at Arthur and then looked over at Snape, “How could this be?”
-------------------------------


Harry woke. He could feel hands on him, lifting him, carrying him. He was tired, very tired; and he hurt. A familiar voice broke through the fever.

“We will take thee to thy family. Thee is safe.” The voice sounded so good to his ears.

“Yes.” Harry did not feel his fingers as they were pried off of Dumbledore’s arm.


Later, he felt someone pouring something into his mouth and a cool rush spreading over his limbs as the liquid eased his fever. He saw lights and the inside of a wagon. He thought he could hear Jolie.

“We’ve got you home, Chavo(son).” The voice said. “Sleep now.”

“Dumbledore,” he managed before he fell asleep.
--------------------

Snape and Lupin sat in kitchen chairs at No.12 Gimmauld place. They were staring at each other, speechless. The night had been long and it was nearing morning. No one had reported back yet. Two members had apparated to the site of the crash and Mrs. Weasley and Tonks had apparated to St. Mungo’s Hospital. The other members of the Order of the Phoenix spent the remainder of the meeting developing a means to report to each other that didn’t involve the Floo Network, Owl post or other detectable sources.

Lupin sipped at the brandy in his glass. He had been drinking for several hours. Snape was hollow-eyed and bluish. He had switched to fire-whiskey the moment they arrived. Neither appeared to be drunk.

“How do you suppose?” Lupin said.

Snape shook his head. They were the only ones that knew the details of the plan to transfer Dumbledore to Hogwarts. “It wasn’t me…” he looked up and into Lupin’s eyes, “and I know it wasn’t you.”

Lupin bowed his head in acknowledgement of the trust Severus had in him. “Yes, I believe the same of you, Severus. It’s a shame we can’t be friends, you’ve turned out to be quite a respectable fellow.” He suddenly found himself snorting. “Sorry old Chap, I think I’ve had too much brandy.”

Snape nodded. He pushed his glass to the center of the table a little too stiffly. “Yes. Or perhaps we haven’t had enough or maybe there isn‘t enough,” his voice was soft, “in the whole world.”

Lupin’s eyebrows went up.” Now, I know you’ve had enough.” He pushed his own glass away, turned in his chair and studied the wall.

“You’ve always been…fair, Lupin” Snape placed his hands on the table. “Not like the others. And I must apologize…”

Lupin snorted again, “Please, Severus…” Lupin knew he spoke of James Potter and Sirius Black. “It’s just a shame I’m a werewolf, is that it Severus?”

Snape cleared his throat and remained silent.

“We have to solve this Severus.” Lupin said. Snape looked up. “No, not that! I don’t care if you don’t like me because I’m a werewolf. I can’t help what I am. We have to find out how our plan failed.”

Snape studied the table.” It ha…ad to be someone in this house. Someone that overheard us talking.”

Time went by as they sat in silence. Lupin picked up his brandy and Snape unconsciously mimicked the move by picking up his whiskey

Lupin dropped his half-full glass, “Kreacher!”

The two stared at each other with horror in their eyes and were up, and out of their chairs at the same moment. They raced down two flights of dank, dark musty stairs, filled with cobwebs until they reached a cellar. The walls were grimy with dirt. They reached a fork in the dark hallway, their wands shining brightly on the walls.

“You look that way, I’ll take this one.” Snape was suddenly full of energy. “Don’t kill him unless I’m there.”

“The same goes for me,” Lupin shouted over his shoulder.

-----------------------






Harry could smell a fresh breeze blowing on his face. The bed was soft and he was comfortable. He kept his eyes closed taking in the smell of the polished wood, the horse dung and the sounds of children laughing. He heard voices of men and women in everyday conversation. He heard the door open. The wagon sagged as the person stepped up.

“Will you sleep all day or wake?” Jolie’s voice grumbled.

Harry smiled, his eyes remained closed, “I’m hungry, old man.” He spoke in Romani.

“Ah, he speaks,” Jolie sat down and Harry could feel a hand placed on the bed. “Good.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at he man, “Where’s Dumbledore?”

Jolie patted the blanket, “He is well and not harmed. The elf, his name is Vallow, he says Dumbledore has cocooned himself.” Jolie shrugged. “It is a magic that we don’t know, but is useful I think.”

“What does that mean, Jolie?” Harry asked.

“He won’t wake until he is ready,” Jolie said. “You thought to take him home?”

Harry nodded.

“He will wake there. Don’t worry.”

“Where are we?” Harry asked and reached for his glasses. Then stopped abruptly as he felt a sharp pain stabbing his side.

“You should not move, young one,” Jolie asid and stood, holding him down by the shoulders. “You have been hurt badly and need to heal. We are with Gregor’s people.”

“Nadya?” Harry groaned.

“We will meet up with them in a few days.” Jolie patted his hand. “She knows that you’re alive.”

“We need to contact…” Harry began.

“It is done.” Jolie turned to leave. “We have sent word to the Old Crow, Snape. Now rest and I will bring you food. The best food! And while you eat I will play my fiddle.” The little man was out the door and singing at full strength in a full baritone.

Harry smiled and closed his eyes again.
-------------------



Reports began to flood into Gimmauld place. They had found blood on the ground at the crash site. There was a trail where something was dragged or crawled. The inside of the Knight bus was bloody. The driver was found dead, wedged between the bus and the ground. Each new report made Lupin cringe in his chair and chew on his lip. Snape was agitated and pacing the room like a caged animal. Neither had slept.

Mrs. Weasley sat in front of them, “Minerva, doesn’t know anything. She apparated too quickly. Which was a very good thing or I think she would have been taken as well.”

“Molly,” Lupin began, his eyes beseeching her to give them more. “She was with Dumbledore, right beside him.”

“Yes. She said she even had a grip on him before the bus turned over. They were torn apart by the impact.” Mrs. Weasley frowned. She looked up startled when Snape growled. He was still pacing.

A knock came to the door.

“WHO THE BLOODY HELL IS IT!” Snape roared.

Mrs. Weasley jumped and Lupin’s eyebrows went up. Hermione opened the door and walked in. She had a bird sitting on her shoulder. It was a black raven. “Professor,” she said calmly, “this is Harry’s bird, Dante. He’s brought a message.” She’d untied it and handed it to Snape.

Snape unrolled it, read it quickly and threw it to the floor, “Dumbledore and Mr. Potter are alive.” He left them, their eyes following his back.

Lupin picked up the parchment and read it aloud, “Tell the Old Crow, three hearts beat as one.”
----------------------




Harry was laying in bed when the door opened and a black-haired head entered. The man was dressed in a black traveling cloak, covering Romani clothes.

“Hello, Professor.” Harry watched him as he straightened and bumped his head on the low ceiling.

Snape moved to his side. “Hello, Mr. Potter.” He pulled off his cloak and sat down beside the bed. He gently pulled the blanket down and pulled aside Harry’s bed shirt.

Harry turned his head away and groaned, feebly.

Snape looked at the wound and frowned, “We need to get you to hospital, Potter.”

“No,” Harry pushed his hands away. “Leave me be, I’m with my people.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed his voice was silky, “Yes, you are. And they have saved you. But you need to have this healed by an expert.”

“I said ‘no’, Snape.” Harry’s said through gritted teeth, jaws tightened in pain.

“Very well,” Snape took out his wand and pointed at the wound, “I can’t say that I’m the best one, but…”

The light from the wand played over his belly and Harry felt a tugging. In minutes, the pain had disappeared and he could breath and move without pain. Snape examined the long gash on his leg and then the scalp wound on his head. His fingers probed very gently and Harry gritted his teeth to avoid showing any pain. Snape once again touched the wand to the wounds. Snape then tucked his wand away and produced a vial of fluid, “Drink this.”

Harry swallowed the potion and began to feel stronger. “Thank you.”

Snape nodded.

“How is Albus?” Harry asked.

“He is the same,” Snape answered.

“Jolie says one of the Wood Glen elves told him that Albus had cocooned himself. He seems to think he’ll revive when he returns to Hogwarts,” Harry said. He slowly raised himself on his elbows and Snape reached over quickly, helping him to sit.

“Yes, that’s probably true,” Snape returned to his seat. “I will talk to Mr. Pulani about transporting him there.”

Harry sat looking at the man. A transformation had taken place. He never expected the man to treat him so gently. But then he’d never saved Dumbledore before.

“Tell me how this happened?” Harry said, starting to swing his legs from the bed.

“Stay!” Snape snapped and then raised a hand, “You’re not quite ready to get up, Mr. Potter.”

Harry laid back thankfully on the pillow and waited.

“”The other is not important at the moment,” Snape said. When Harry continued to gaze at him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “McGonagal was injured but is healing rapidly. She is at St. Mungo’s. We have no news yet of Moody and Shacklebolt. The driver was killed in the accident and there is no news of the other boy.”

Harry told him what he had seen after the crash and how he and Dumbledore had escaped detection. Snape listened intently.

“We have to presume they’ve been taken,” Snape acknowledged. “I want to return Albus to Hogwarts and then I can proceed.”

“Professor, have you found out who informed on us?” Harry asked, resting against his pillow.

“Rest for the night, Potter,” Snape rose quickly and bent his head to go out the door. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”
-------------------



Harry walked around camp for several days and felt fully recovered by the time Nadya’s wagon rolled into camp. He was ecstatic with joy. They spent the day together walking in the woods. Snape remained in the camp and stayed by himself, joining Jolie and Gregor for talks in the late evening.

Harry sent Dante with several messages over the days and each day they moved closer to Hogwarts. At the end of July, in the evening, Dante returned. He carried a parchment and landed in front of Harry

“Mail deliver,” he croaked.

Harry sat next to Nadya. “Well? You know what to do, Dante. Bring the letter to me.”

The raven walked up and extended its’ leg. He croaked, “Birthday boy, Birthday boy.” He said it in English, the only thing Harry had ever heard him say in English. And then with one flap of his immense wings he took off, skimming over Harry’s head and ruffling his hair.

Harry laughed and translated for Nadya. He opened the scroll and read the message from Hermione:

Dearest friend,

We are well, and in France. I never doubted for a minute that you had gotten home safely. I realize you are probably keen on having ALL your friends about you on your birthday, but I insist that you rest and let others take care of it. I don’t want to have say, 'I told you so.’ ever again. We send our love. We can‘t be there to celebrate with you. I have a present for you, but it must wait until we see you in the Fall. You’re always in our thoughts, Love H and R


The letter was in Hermione’s precise hand with a small squiggle indicating Ron had read it and signed.

It was good to know that they were safe and knew everything was all right with him. He understood what Hermione was telling him about all of his friends. She had learned about Moody and Shacklebolt. She was also warning him about being a ‘rescuer’. Hermione had been the one who tried to warn him that Voldemort was going to trap him by using Sirius and not heeding her warning had resulted in Sirius’ death.

Harry knew the priority right now was Dumbledore. That very night they would join other Gypsies families and roll through Hogsmeade to the Fair grounds and tents set up on the outskirts of the village.

Under the cover of putting on a Fair, Dumbledore would be transported to the Shrieking Shack where Snape could ferry him through the hidden tunnel to the safety of Hogwarts grounds.

Harry had faked his own death; a page he had taken from the traitor who had betrayed his parents, Peter Pettigrew, and did it by disguising himself as one of the Romani entertainers. He was a stilt walker.

He wore a harness made of bent and polished wood that was shaped in the body of a bird. A saddle that strapped to his waist made it look like he was riding a real bird. His own costume resembled that of an exotic medieval warrior, fashioned of red leather and bronze. His face was covered in greasepaint and a feathered mask. The whole costume was set off with bird feathers and a plumage that draped to the ground.

Each walker then mounted their stilts, and with reins attached to the birds moveable head they strolled the Fair grounds in pairs of twos or threes. For their performance, the crowd would toss them money, which they caught and pocketed. Harry had become very good at the performance and caught the gold galleons as he had often caught the Quidditch Golden Snitch.

Other members of the Kumpania entertained by playing music on their fiddles, guitars and tambourines. There were sword-swallowers, dancing bears, trapeze artists and most particularly acrobats that rode on the backs of horse and did stunts.

Many of the women of the tribe, including Harry’s wife Nadya dukkered (fortune-telling) in the colorful tents that sat around the arena. They were known throughout the land as some of the best Seers and fortune-tellers among the witches.

In the early evening the gilded, ornate vardos (wagons), drawn by horses that were dressed in richly colored harnesses, paraded through the cobbled street of Hogsmeade.

A large crowd had already formed and were waving and cheering as the white-faced acrobats walked alongside the wagon and did stunts. Musicians played their fiddles and encouraged the crowds to follow along to the fairgrounds.

Harry was already in one of the tents pitched at the grounds preparing for his evening performance. He found that being six feet in the air on stilts was a perfect means of keeping watch on the crowd. If someone wanted to hurt Dumbledore, he was in a position to see them.

Luciano stood next to him in front of a table with a bank of lights and helped him apply his costume. He was their usual dresser. Harry waited for Gregor, his friend and fellow stilt-walker. Nadya was also in the tent with her mother Katlana.

“Luciano, where is Gregor?” Harry asked.

“He is with that Old Crow,” Luciano wrinkled his nose. “They are always talking, those two.”


“Nadya,” Harry reached back for her hand, “will you fetch him for me.”

“Va, mi dehiba (yes, my love),” she said smiling at him. She was already dressed in her scarf and earrings with the white blouse that slipped over her brown shoulders. She wore a long skirt that touched the dirt and her feet were bare. “Ah, he is here!” she said as the gray-haired older man slipped through the tent flap.

He was already dressed in his silk trousers and shirt that he wore underneath the harness. He was a blue bird with lavender shadings. Harry liked to call him a ‘peacock’ because he most resembled the bird.

“Gregor, what’s kept you,” Harry asked standing to slip on his own silk trousers and shirt.

“Ah, just finishing up with the plans,” he shrugged. “Everything is ready.”

Harry knew that Gregor would be helping to get Dumbledore to the Shrieking Shack. Harry had not been told the rest of their plans.

“Tommy,” Gregor used Harry alias, “before you put on your harness there is something we need to talk about. Come with me.” He put his arms round Harry’s shoulders and led him out of the tent towards another.

“What is it Gregor, is everything alright?” Harry was concerned. The grounds were empty and quiet. The crowds had not yet arrived for the evening performances. Some of the Romani were scurrying around getting horses combed and decorated, some were busy lighting lanterns and other small tasks.

Gregor walked him down the stretch of clean plowed field to a tent at the end. The walk reminded Harry of one he had taken the summer before; the one in which he had presumably been killed by Voldemort.

“What is it , Gregor?“ Harry asked.

They entered a tent and someone said, LUMOS. Standing in front of him were about twenty people. Hermione and Ron stood in the front. It appeared that every one of the members of Harry’s old Defense Association stood behind them.

Two years before, Harry had taught friends and other students in a secret class so that they could learn to defend themselves. It was the means by which Dumbledore had almost been sent to Azkaban and Harry had almost been expelled.

They now stood in front of him. “Harry you really didn’t think that we would run off to France and let you have all the fun did you?” Ron said blushing.

“We’re the escort. We’re here to make sure Dumbledore gets home.” Hermione smiled mischievously at him.

“Hello, Harry!” People rushed at him and he was surrounded by arms hugging him. He even got a tear-washed hug from an old girlfriend, Cho Chang. Up until that time he had been effectively disguised and everyone except Ron and Hermione had thought he was just a new student at school. Now they all knew who he was.

“But…but,” Harry protested as Dean Thomas shook his hand and Fred and George Weasley pounded his back.

“Harry,” Neville Longbottom stood at his shoulder, “we’re Dumbledore’s army.”


A figure emerged from the shadows of the tent. It was Snape. Harry looked at him in amazement. “You trained them Potter. You are now their leader. Shall we get Dumbledore home?” His eyebrows went up and Harry could swear he saw a smile playing around the mouth.

--------------

That night Harry walked the Fairgrounds with Gregor, stopping to raise the head of his bird, pose and then catch the money that the teaming crowds below threw him. He watched with satisfaction as members of the D.A. patrolled the edges of the crowd, intermingling. As the small cart that carried the person of Dumbledore made its way up the street to the Shrieking Shack, a dozen watchful friendly eyes followed.

Chapter Seven




“Hello, Harry.” The old man lay on a lounge chair dressed in night clothes and a robe. He looked exceptionally pale and frail. Snape stood beside him. “You can go Severus, I know you have many things to do.”

Snape bowed slightly and left the room.

“Hello, Professor, how are you?” Harry sat in an ornate high-backed, blue satin chair.

“I’m fine Harry, just fine.” Dumbledore said, smiling. Harry could see some of the old light in his face, although he looked pallid. He patted Harry’s hand. “Let’s talk.”

“Are you sure your up to it, Professor? We can always do this another time,” Harry asked worriedly.

“No,” Dumbledore said and shook his head, frowning slightly. “no. I made the mistake of keeping things from you for years. I won’t make that mistake again. We need to talk.”

Harry nodded. They sat at Dumbledore’s doily covered table placed before a cold fireplace. Harry nervously watched the old man use a cane to make it the short distance from his couch to the chair.

“No questions, Harry?” Dumbledore smiled broader. “You’ve always had questions. No? Alright, I’ll begin. Severus has told me what the two of you have done and what you guessed. Both of you are very clever and for the most part you have guessed correctly.”

“So you are a… Guardian.” Harry stuttered.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes. I am. One of few that remain. And…the others must remain unnamed. I have a purpose, duties, should we say, that span much more than my obligations here at Hogwarts. Very important duties, and, there the explanation must end.” He continued, “But I want to relieve your mind, Harry. You are not the next Guardian. Nor must we concern ourselves about the future in that way. It’s best to fight one enemy at a time, don’t you think?”

“Someone else has been chosen?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Neville Longbottom.”

“Neville!” Harry started.

“Yes Harry- Neville. You have turned him into quite a good warrior. He has accepted this ‘position’, if you would like to call it that,” Dumbledore smiled again. “He has known about it since last year.”

“I turned him into a warrior?” Harry said.

“Let me explain something, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “There are many things that help us to find our inner strengths. Sometimes people will fight for a cause, and sometimes for a person. Neville has been a loyal friend to you. Oh, I don’t want you to think that he fights just for you. He fights for his parents and others. But what has made him strong and a good candidate was his love for you,” Dumbledore sat up stiffly. “Just as Severus, who was so badly wounded as a child, who has no care for himself-who cannot fight for himself; will fight for me.”

Harry thought about what he was saying. “Professor, you sent Severus to Voldemort. You asked him to take the Dark Mark and spy for you. You’re using him and it could mean his death!”

“Yes, yes, I am aware of it, Harry.” The bright blue eyes saddened. “But not against his will. Never against his will. He knows what he does. And he does it because he has regained his capacity to love; to care. We will do many things if we love someone. I told you once that you survived because your mother spent her life’s blood to protect you; shielded you with her love. Severus believes the only way he can repay his debt is to do this. And it’s not just the debt he owes me, or the one he thinks he owes me- because I believe there is none. He has been there for me as many times as I have been there for him. It is not a matter of keeping score and never has been.”

“Then what?” Harry asked.

“Do you not know. You shared each others’ minds. If you cannot find the answer there then I have none.” Dumbledore’s puzzled eyes searched his face.

“For his father,” Harry said. He knew it. Snape’s memories passed before his mind like a viewing screen; and yet, he had not allowed himself to look at the memory and the emotions he had sensed in Snape. “He feels guilty for not being able to love his father and for loving you instead.” Harry thought about it for a moment. “But why? His father abused him so badly.”


“Ah, the mysteries of the human soul, Harry.” Dumbledore shook his head. “I have no special gift for understanding it all.”

“Will you tell me about my father, Albus?” Harry asked, “Snape…”

“Professor Snape, Harry or Severus, if you like,” Dumbledore remind him.

“Yes. Severus was jealous of him because you chose him as Guardian. Then, I was born and Voldemort couldn’t kill me. Severus thought I would be the next Guardian. He thought I would fail and turn into a dark wizard. He thought I would fail you.”

“Yes, for a time he did. Some of the things you did and some of the things he thought you were doing,” Dumbledore stood and moved about he the room slowly. “he thought was evidence that you were ‘corrupted’. Dumbledore shook his head and sighed, “ That word is so…wrong. There is no black and white when it comes to human beings. Anyway, he was protective of me. The position I hold, as you know, he could not take himself. But he has been forever protective of me and my choices. As you’ve probably noticed, he doesn’t always agree with my choices.”

Harry thought about Neville. How Snape had bullied him for six years because Neville had been such a poor wizard. What was he going to do to poor Neville now?


“The Sorting Hat gave us wisdom when it repeatedly said that we should take care of one another. Neville will need your help in the future, Harry. I hope that he has the same kind of support and love that I’ve gotten over the years from my friends.” Dumbledore turned to him. “We mustn’t forget that we still have a formidable enemy that continues to plague us. That is what we must concentrate on now.”

They sat in silence. Harry considered the older man.

His warm smile played over Harry’s face and he shook his head, “In this cruel and lonely world Harry, we are fortunate to have people who love us. Very fortunate. But what I think is more important is that we find a way to accept that love.” Dumbledore watched him closely, and continued, “For some reason there are those who will search all their lives for the one person they love and who could not love them in return. You lost your father and never had a chance to know him. You lost Sirius and never had a chance to be with him. Harry, you’re always looking for a father, to love you, when you fail to see the people all around you who give it willingly. You… search as if your thirst will never be quenched.”

“That’s not true Albus, I know my wife and my friends love me,” Harry objected.

“You know it, but you cannot feel it!” The blue eyes penetrated. “What is it you want child? What are you looking for?”


Harry fought the mesmerizing pull of his eyes. He jumped to his feet and paced the room, feeling the explosion coming, “Something that makes it all worthwhile, Albus! Something that takes the pain go away. A reason for why it all has to be this way!” Harry stood and felt the ache, “I need a reason to live, Albus. I need a reason to fight! I…I’m afraid, alright! Is that what you want to hear? No!… not of Voldemort- I’m…If I get too close, people suffer. If I face Voldemort and die, my friends, those who love me; suffer. IF I love and they are taken away from me, I suffer. What’s the use of trying? It’s easier not to give your heart then to have it crushed.” Harry collapsed into a chair, his eyes dry and tearless.

“And you think knowing more about your father will take this pain away, Harry? That it will make it any easier?” Albus stood and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking down at his bowed head. “You’re chasing a phantom. You will spend your life doing it.” Dumbledore sighed softly, “Harry, you have a right to be frightened. What you face is formidable. The road you take is not easy. But you cannot find the strength you need by looking back. You must find it around you. People tell you they love you and it has no effect; you can’t let it in. But it is the single most powerful weapon you have.”

Harry sat back and stared up into his headmaster’s face. “I just don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me,”

Dumbledore shook his head and walked slowly over to his lounge chair, his back to Harry and said, “Harry, I am a bit tired and I want the time to tell you about your father. But I think perhaps you would like to return to your new wife. You still have some of the summer left before school starts. This will be your last year here and we want o make the most of it.”

“What about Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt… and Cornelius Fudge and Percy Weasley?” Harry stood to leave.

“There is nothing you can do about them,” Dumbledore said, turned and looked at him sternly.

“But, Albus?” Harry protested.

“No, Harry!” Dumbledore frowned. “You’re too valuable to risk in a rescue attempt. Sometimes, as leaders we have to make decisions that we find hard to live with. They are warriors in a war and knew the risks they faced. You must leave this to me.”

“I understand, Albus,” Harry said bitterly and turned to leave.

“Harry, you must promise me that you will not interfere.” The older man was bent, propped up with the cane. His back was turned to Harry.

“Yes, I swear, Albus. I’d like to know about my father though, soon. In case… something happens to me.”

Dumbledore remained turned away, “Soon, Harry. When I am rested.”

Chapter Eight


“You don’t think we could persuade Dumbledore to hire Snape as Defense Against the Darks Arts teacher, do you?” Hermione asked Harry. They were strolling through Diagon Alley the night before the train was to leave for Hogwarts. Ron frowned but said nothing. “I mean we’ve gone and lost another one- Madam LeClair.”

“She was good,” Ron said.

“Yes, but you have to admit Snape was better and he only taught the class for a few weeks,” Hermione said. “This is our last year and it’s important that we learn all we can. We have to pass our N.E.W.T.S.”

They strolled past Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan who were acting as their guard. Harry had a continuous Hogwarts’ escort wherever he went while in Diagon Alley.

He had left his Romani family and Nadya just two days before. They would travel until Fall and then camp in a village some distance from Hogwarts. Harry knew that he was going to miss her even as they were saying goodbye. He also knew that given the way his life was going he would probably be away from her many times. This was there first separation and he wasn’t in a good mood.

His visit with Dumbledore weeks before had also left him unsettled. The mention of the headmaster‘s name made him feel grouchy. “I don’t know, Hermione, Dumbledore has his own reasons for not having Snape teach the class. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

They were joined by Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas and stopped to have chilled pumpkin juice. Harry wasn’t listening to the conversation. The street had become very familiar to him in the six years he had come here to buy his Hogwarts school supplies.

He kept thinking of his conversation with Dumbledore as he watched the witches and wizards pass him in the street. His thoughts wandered. He wondered if he was going to treat Neville any differently now that he knew what he was; his ‘special position’, as Dumbledore had described it.

It made him think of his father, who had been a Guardian, too. How had his father been chosen? How had Neville been chosen? Harry wondered.

And then he saw her, Professor Trelawney, Hogwarts’ Divination teacher, walking down the street. He had never seen her outside of Hogwarts and rarely out of the aerie loft in the tower. Strange thoughts whirled in his head, the prophecy that she had made concerning he and Neville.

Harry could remember the words of the prophecy and the conversation they had about it as if Dumbledore stood before him and was repeating it. He could also remember what he said about the prophecy- that a form of it was saved in the Department of Mysteries and it had been relabeled after Voldemort tried to kill him. Neville had accidentally broken the glass bulb it was stored in during their fight in the Department of Mysteries.

Trelawney passed them and turned her face away. It was obvious she did not want to be noticed. Harry watched her. She had made two true predictions in all the years Dumbledore had known her. Once to him and once to Dumbledore. The rest were phony; even Dumbledore had said so.

It was all confusing to him and the answers to questions seemed to be just out of reach. It was when Trelawney passed into the street that led to Knockturn Alley and at the same moment Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle emerged from the same street that Harry knew what he had to do.

“The Ministry of Magic is still a mess. Dad says that they have a temporary replacement for Fudge but…,” Ron was talking to the small group.

“Ron!” Harry grabbed his arm.

“What Harry?” Ron asked glancing over.

“Come here a minute.” Harry stood and pulled him away from the others. “Listen Ron, do you still have that mirror that we used when I went to get Snape at the Malfoys?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I think Hermione still has it.” Ron said.

“Listen Ron, I’m not going to make the Hogwarts Express and I may be gone for the first few days of classes. I’m going to get my mirror and I’ll use it to make contact with you. I’ll let you know where I am.” Harry was in a hurry.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked glancing over at Hermione.

Harry looked over at the small group. “You can’t tell her or anyone. At least not for awhile.”

Ron nodded.

“I’m going to Knockturn Alley,” Harry said. He still wore his clothes from the Romani camp and his face remained transformed, his scar turned into a tattoo, “and maybe beyond that.

“Your what?!” Ron paled. “What for?”

“Shush,“ Hermione’s eyes were on them, “There’s something I have to find out and, I can’t tell you what it’s about.” Harry looked at him with pleading eyes and then he smiled reassuringly at his friend. “I’m trusting you to come and rescue me if I get in trouble, mate. ” Harry said, “Look, I’ll be okay.”

“Oh great, Harry.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot. Alright, go then. I’ll get the mirror and tell Hermione…something.”

Harry nodded and hurried off to The Leaky Cauldron for his belongings. He told the innkeeper to have his trunk put on the Hogwarts Express and his friend would have it taken to the school. Harry hurried to his room, grabbed his sack and stuffed items into it. Hermione had lied to him in the letter he received on his birthday. She had given him a ring and told him how to use it. He put it on for the first time, a thick band of silver, engraved with ancient runes.

“What am I doing?” he said aloud. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“Can’t help you there lad,” The mirror said.

He covered himself in a cloak and slipped his broad brimmed fedora over his head, checked the sack and left the room.
----------------------

He vaguely remembered the narrow dark street as he made his way from the sunshine into the gloomy depths of Knockturn Alley. The shops were close together and dark, their windows dirty and grimy. The people on the street kept their heads down and stepped to the side, trying not to touch each other as they passed. Harry could smell the reek of mildew and centuries-old mold; refuse was piled in corners and maggot-infested overripe fruit thrown to the pavement.

Harry stepped cautiously down the street, not peering into shops or lifting his head. He drifted as if he was familiar with the area and was wandering. Several old witches passed, their clothes tattered and worn. Harry’s nose stung with the smell of dirt and stench, stale ale and whiskey. A pub opened up its’ gaping maw onto the street and several hooded men stood talking quietly to each other. Harry walked past while they stopped their conversation and studied him.

“Oy, you got a knut for an old man?” a beggar struggled up to Harry, his leg twisted cruelly into an s-shape. He was dragging it and supporting himself with a cane. He wasn’t much taller than a child, but twice as heavy.

“Geroff,” Harry growled, shoving the grimy, grabbing hand from his arm.

The man spat foul words at his back as he moved on. Several goblins passed him in a hurry, bumping his arm. They moved aside quickly when he turned. Harry kept his hand on his wand inside his cloak. He stopped once and wiped his hand against the brick coming away with black soot and dirt. He quickly wiped his hand over his face and neck. It was obvious to him that he stood out; he was too clean.

He made his way down the street and then stopped to lean against a wall and study the area from beneath his hat. It was getting later in the day and more nefarious types of individuals were crawling the street.

“Hello, love,” a witch stopped in front of him. “Ya interested in having a good time.”

“Mook! (leave), he spit at her in Romani.

“What’s that yer sayin’ in f’reign talk?” she snapped, “Whatchoo want to go actin’ like that fer.”

Harry raised hand as if to hex her.

“Pshaw!” she waved a hand and left, her black gown and cloak trailing through the dirt.

A voice whispered behind him in Romani, “Sar si to alav (what is your name)?”

Harry peered over his shoulder attempting to act nonchalant. Why would a respectful gypsy be down in these streets, he wondered. He saw the man, small and bent, his clothes black with caked dirt. He was bearded and had no teeth. “Who asks?”

The man slipped closer and stared down the dank street. “By me a drink Roma and I will tell you.” Harry smelled the fire whisky on his stale, stinking breath.

“I will buy you a drink if you will tell me where to find a room to sleep for the night,” Harry said.

“I can do that, Chav (boy)!” the man grinned and pawed Harry’s cloak.

“Don’t call me that, Laja! (shame on you). You speak Romani, but you are shameless.” Harry scolded and pulled the man’s hands from his clothes.

“Yes, yes,” the man nodded and bowed his head, “ I am akooshava (cursed).” He continued to scrape and bow.

“Very well,” Harry said. People were beginning to notice them. “But keep your hands off of me.” Harry followed the man further down the street to a point where it was so narrow and twisted that people could only walk single file. The man stopped before a door and opened it, hat in hand waiting for Harry to pass through. There was a grubby sign swinging overhead. The barely legible words painted on it said, ‘The Pig’s Head” .

Harry stepped out of the dim sunlight into almost pitch dark. He had his hand on his wand and stepped to one side as the Gypsy closed the door and followed him in. After his eyes adjusted to the light he could see the dim insides of a pub. The room was partly empty. People sat smoking and talking in rumbling whispers. Harry followed the man through a labyrinth of chairs to a bar where he sat at the counter.

“Fire whiskey for two,” The man said.

“Don’t dis man speak fer ‘imself?” asked the bartender.

“He speaks my tongue,” the old Romani said.

“Show me da coin and I’ll give ya da whiskey,” the bald headed man said. He wore an apron, stained gray with too many washings and not enough soap.

The Gypsy rubbed his thumb and index finger together. Harry dropped two coins on the scarred counter of the bar. He swiveled his head and studied the pub. A few of the ragged customers watched him with interest. He peered at them with sneer that he thought Snape would have been proud of; if he had been present.

A dirty glass was placed before him, half of the liquid sloshing out. Harry put his mouth to it and pretended as if he were sipping. The old Romani leaned in, “This is the place. Ye ken get a room here.” The black eyes glittered.

Yes, and get my throat cut, too, Harry thought, but he nodded in agreement. “Tell him I want a room and nobody is to disturb me.” The man went to translate, and Harry grabbed his arm. “Tell him they will not wake up in the morning if they do.”

The man nodded eagerly when Harry waved the bottle over his glass.

“He says he wants a room and he’s not to be bothered. He’s one of them Vardo gypsies, mates.“ His voice increased in pitch, “You best know that he can turn ya into a donkey’s ass with just a look.” The gypsy said it and then smiled at Harry as if Harry did not understand English. “Just look at the lad, me fine fellas, he’s got the looks of one of them rich gypsies. Maybe we should see if he has more gold in those pockets.” The man drank down his drink and the bartended moved off down into the gloom .

A chair scratched the wooden floor behind Harry and he slipped his wand beneath the man’s filthy robes. The move was cunning and stealthy. “Tell your mates, that if they touch me I will do more than turn them into a donkey’s ass,” Harry murmured in Romani.

The man’s face paled and he raised his hand. He smiled, “No harm done, then. We don’t abide by strangers down here much, but we do want to be friendly. No need for violence, Chav.” The noise of retreating steps told Harry that he could relax his grip on the smooth handle of his wand.

“I told you not to call me that,” Harry’s voice was steely.

“ ‘Course,” the little man spun the empty glass around in his cupped palms like a coin.

Harry filled it. “Show me to the room.”

They walked up a narrow stair and down a hallway that reminded Harry of the Black mansion before it had been cleaned. Dusty, black drapery covered the doors that lined the hall. Porgy, the bartender, pulled one aside, inserted a key and held the drape as Harry ducked under. He handed Harry a lantern that illuminated the small dark space.

“We have one meal a day served in the pub that comes with the room,” the bartender said gruffly and then left him.

The grubby little Gypsy stood in the hallway.

“What do you want?” Harry asked.

“Jus’ waitin’ to see if I can be of service,” the man said.

“You are nothing more than Gadjo,” Harry sneered. He watched the little man to see if the tough act was working. The man groveled again and nodded.

He stepped into the room, the overpowering smell of his sweat with him. Harry’s eyes watered and he stepped away and moved to the window. The glass was black and let in no light. Harry took out his wand and heard a gasp from behind him. “Don’t worry, I just want the stink out of this room,” Harry said and waved his wand, WINGARDIEM LEVIOSA. The window screeched upwards. It had not been opened, in perhaps, a century.

The little man behind him scuffled, stepping from one foot to another.

Harry studied the room in more light. It was worse than a rubbish bin. Azkaban is probably better than this, he thought. He was intentionally ignoring the gypsy but spoke to him, “What is your name?”

“I am Marcuso of the Lovorato tribe,” he said.

“No old gypsy, you have lost the Road,” Harry shook his head. “Go and bring me fresh water and bread.” Harry tossed him a knut.

The man left, shutting the door. Harry used his wand to clean the room of dust and dirt, SCOURGIFY.

What am I doing here? he wondered.
----------------------



The Hogwarts Express left the station at exactly ten o’clock. Hermione had gone to one end of the train and Ron to the other to patrol the corridors as part of their Prefect’s duties. They met halfway.

“Ron?” Hermione was frowning.

“What?” Ron was standing staring out the window. He glanced over at her and straightened. He didn’t like it when he saw that look on her face.

“I didn’t see Tommy on the train,” she referred to Harry’s alias name. “Was he down on that end?”

Ron sobered up and stood silently looking down on her.

“Ron?” she snapped. “Ron!”

“He’s not on the train ‘Mione,” he said.

“What do you mean he’s not on the train. We saw him only just yesterday.” Her eyebrows went up. “Alright. Where is he? You two were talking and then he left. He wasn’t at supper and you lied about it. He didn’t have a headache did he? Where is he?” She had her hands on the hips of her robes and she was frowning.

“He asked me not to say,” Ron said and turned to look out the window again.

“Ron Weasley!” Ron cringed. It sounded very much like his mother’s voice.

“Alright, but not out here. We could be overheard.” He opened the door to their compartment; it was empty.


[Chapter 9 has been rejected several times. I know it is not for spelling or grammatical errors but the admin. moderators have not told me the reason. If you wish to continue the story it is posted at other sites. www.harrypotterfanfiction.com for one. I don't wish to take readers away from this site....but really!] Natasha

Word spread through the dark streets and the crumbling alleyways where rats, both animal and human, scurried around in the dark. Shifty men and creatures of every description slinked down through dark doors and fetid passageways, whispering messages in an underground grapevine. Rumor carried the message, 'There is a stranger in Knockturn Alley.'

Harry took his supper in the room and sipped stale water from a glass. He heard the sound outside his room. It was the sound of the drape brushing against the door. With a spoon in one hand and his wand in another he called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Marcuso, master,” the voice said.

“And who is with you?” Harry asked.

“A friend who wishes to introduce himself.”

“Come in,” Harry said and sat back, trying to look at ease. It had been two days and he was finally getting a visitor.

The figure was tall, dressed in a black cape and also wore a hat like his own. He was followed by the Gypsy, who had a look of abject fear on his face.

“Get out, Marcuso,” Harry said in Romani. The little man scurried out the door like a rat.

The man before him removed his hat and it was all Harry could do to not gasp and push back in his chair. He had never seen a vampire but he knew he was looking into the eyes of one now.

The face was very smooth and pale, the pupils of the eyes, cold, dark and glittering; the lips sensuous and red, very red. The man’s face was handsome. He had sandy-brown hair that fell to his shoulders and he was young, not more than a few years older than Harry himself. At least that’s what Harry thought, although the creature could be hundreds of years old.

“Hello,” he bowed and remained standing. “I am Demitri Kaldensky.” His English was very proper.

Harry nodded. He stood slowly, not wanting the creature to think he was anxious or that he had never met a vampire before. He also knew that these creatures could move very quickly and he wanted his back to a wall.

“Will you not tell me your name, sir?” the creature asked, politely.

“In good time, Mr. Kaldensky,” Harry said and bowed slightly. “Please have a seat and tell me what has brought you here.” He said it in Romani, vowing to not use English unless it was necessary. It was to his advantage to let others talk in front of him.

“Very well.” The creature spoke Romani. He pulled off the black cloak and Harry saw that he was dressed in very rich clothes.

So Macuso has found an interpreter, Harry thought. Harry regained his seat and sat quietly. But what an interpreter!

“Please resume your dinner,” he said. “I did not want to disturb you.” The eyes went to the bowl of soup, swept the room and returned to look at Harry.

“My soup has grown cold and I am finished, “ Harry said. “Tell me what you want of me.”

“Perhaps I should ask you the same.” The man waved a hand dismissively and looked around the room. “A man of your…should I say quality- does not come into these…dwellings,” he spoke with disgust, “without purpose. I am here representing an entity that is most interested in your presence. He likes to keep a watchful eye on things.”

“I am here because I seek information,” Harry said.

The creature nodded and folded very delicate hands in his lap. “The Romani are very powerful wizards and are not normally seen in the company of- our kind,” Kaledensky smiled, “other than that old stinkweed.” He closed his eyes briefly and tilted his head. He was referring to the Gypsy Marcuso. “My apologies if I have offended…”

“I am not offended,” Harry said.

“I hope that you are also not offended by my presence,” his hand went to his chest and he bowed from the waist.

“I am also not offended,” Harry said.


“Ah, the Roma have such good manners about these things,” he said and sat back, produced a flask and sipped from it. He did not offer any to Harry. “Very well, shall we talk about a meeting then?”

Harry stared for a moment and realized he was talking about a meeting between himself and this ‘interested party’. Harry wondered if it was Voldemort.

“I won’t meet with anyone that does not have the ear of …” Harry struggled for the correct words and the vampire interrupted.

He nodded sagely and said, “You are a very young man to brave such an venture or the information you seek is very important to you.” The vampire stood and Harry followed suit. “The exchange will be in kind- information for information.” He turned to leave, “I will let my master know that you wish to meet him and I will send word with that putrescence, Marcuso, when there is an appropriate time and place.” He was out the door without another word.

Harry swallowed, A Vampire! he thought. I’ve met a Vampire and I’m going to meet his master.

---

“Ron, as soon as we’ve finished dinner you have to tell him or I will,” Hermione said helping herself to potatoes. The Sorting Ceremony was complete and they were at the opening night feast. She was staring at Dumbledore. He was sitting at the head table and sipping from a goblet. His questioning blue eyes were looking back at her and she knew he was missing the presence of Harry at the Slytherin table.

Most of the school was still not aware that Harry was not dead and had been at school the previous year in disguise and a member of Slytherin House.

Ron rolled his eyes and continued to stuff his mouth as full as he could. Others along the table, those who knew Harry was alive, members of the D.A., were questioning him with their eyes. He nodded in surrender.

The feast ended and Ron was pushed towards the table by Hermione. “Go and I’ll take care of the first years.”

He walked up red-faced to Dumbledore. The old man stared down at him and stood up, walked around the entire length of the table, put a hand on his shoulder and led him through a door at the back of the Great Hall.


“He just said that he had something to do, Professor. He wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Ron said. He sat across from Dumbledore in a small circular room off the Hall. A fire burned in the fireplace on this summer evening.

Dumbledore looked at him with a stern look on his face. Ron had never seen him look as intense. The old man nodded. “Is there anything more Mr. Weasley?”

Ron had yet to tell him about the small hand-mirror that was hanging around a chain at his neck. Harry made him promise to not tell anyone he had it. Ron shook his head, “Nothing, Professor.”

“I see,” Dumbledore frowned at him. “Mr. Weasley, Harry has put himself in grave danger, grave danger; more than you or he can possibly realize.” Dumbledore waited.

Ron gulped and nodded, but remained silent.

“I’m keeping you from your Prefect duties,” Dumbledore said dismissively, stood abruptly and waited for Ron to leave the room.

Dumbledore was looking down into the fire when another person entered through the door. He looked up. “Sit down Severus, I have something to tell you.”

Snape sat in the recently vacated chair, “Yes?”

Dumbledore sat down heavily. “Severus, I am going to say something that will be cruel and perhaps unkind. It will hurt you. It will hurt me to say it and I would not do it if I thought there were another way.”

The man stared back and Dumbledore noticed he stiffened slightly as if to brace himself.

“You do not have the capacity to allow someone to love you. You fear it more than death itself. And now I have two of you on my hands and I can’t reach either one of you."

"Harry has gone in search of answers, truths that may end up getting him killed. Like you, he has stopped allowing himself to feel love from people. He searches for his father or … someone to replace his father. There is a great longing for the person he thought could love him. A love he thinks he’s missed out on and can get from no other…”

Snape shifted in his chair, his face remained closed.

Dumbledore moved to stand in front of the man. “I have watched you also search for forgiveness from a man who had none to give, a man who should have asked for your forgiveness instead. Severus, you did nothing wrong as a child that warranted his abuse of you and there was nothing wrong with you- he was an evil man who could not accept you and he was a father who didn’t deserve a son like you. He did not love you because there was something wrong with you-” Dumbledore shook his fist into the air. It was clear that he was angry. He continued, "He did not love because he could not! I tell you this, Severus, THERE IS NO DEBT YOU OWE HIM.” Dumbledore stood over the man in the chair propping himself against the mantel, trembling with emotion and exhaustion.

Snape was white and breathing rapidly.

Dumbledore continued, his voice softening, “Ah Severus, each of you, in your own way, has sought the same thing. You thought to find redemption through me and I, the fool that I am, have allowed this to go on too long. I’ve stood in your father’s shoes and allowed you to try and work this out through me. I’ve watched you go out into the world and get hurt, take risks and stubbornly refuse to ask for help. I have been willing to allow you, Severus, to do these things and I have not interfere because you are a grown man and I cannot keep you from making your own choices, no matter what the motive is behind them.”

Snape was about to argue, his eyes narrowed, his face a work of pain.

Dumbledore raised his hands, “I realize you do these things for me, Severus. That is what I am saying. I appreciate your sacrifices more than you can ever know. It would be less burdensome if you sacrificed on your own behalf instead of mine. Being on the receiving end, watching you give this kind of gift for me… has always taken my breath away."

"As I have said- I love you, even if you cannot understand or feel what I have to offer. You are the son that I would have dearly loved to have had and I have tried to be a good to you. But it has not been enough because I am not your father. And he cannot give you what you want…and I cannot give it to you either.”

“Albus,” Snape was concerned. The old man looked as if he would collapse.

“I have never asked anything of you Severus, that you had not already been willing to give. I would never dream of abusing you or taking advantage of you in that way. I have something to tell you. You may end up killing me for it. If you don’t then I am going to ask something of you, which you may very well refuse to do.” Dumbledore said, “ But, I intend to ask now.”

Dumbledore was shaking, his voice quivering, “There is a boy out there, a young man, who is following in your footsteps. You are the only one who knows how to find and reach him.” Dumbledore stumbled back into his chair and Severus jumped as if to reach over to him.

Dumbledore put out his hand, tears filled his eyes and groaned, “Harry has gone to Knockturn Alley. He has gone to his death and it is my fault. I could not tell him what he so desperately needed to know. I could not tell you what you should have known years ago.” The old man continued to speak and Snape sat rigidly in the chair in front of him, his eyes growing ever wider as Dumbledore spoke.


Snape then helped Dumbledore down the hall and up to his quarters where he put him to bed, snuffed the candle with his fingers and left the room.

It was only then, in the privacy of his own room, in the dank dungeons, could he let out the grief trapped inside. His body shook, sweat broke out on his brow. In a fever of grief, anger and sorrow he broke most of the furniture in his room. Spent, he fell asleep on the cold hard floor, his last thoughts drifting in , “Why didn‘t you tell me, Albus?” He fell asleep groaning.

---

Harry slept in the chair and caught himself jerking awake at every noise, including the rats that crept up to his boots and tugged at the hem of his trousers. He kicked at one in the dark, heard the squeal and the dull thump when it hit the opposite wall.

He comforted himself by thinking about the feast, the Sorting Ceremony and his soft, comfortable four-poster bed at Hogwarts. He thought about Ron. He knew that Ron would remain silent at least until they were on the Hogwarts Express. He wasn’t sure how long after that Hermione would pin him to the wall and make him tell her where he was at. Harry also knew that Ron would not tell anyone about the mirror.

All I need is some time, Harry thought. To do what?

He thought about it. Find out about Percy, Moody and Shacklebolt; that was the first step. Find out what Voldemort was doing.

That was a long-shot, he considered. In exchange for what? They wanted information. What information did he have? What information would they want? And how was he going to get in and out alive?


But there was something more that he wanted and he couldn’t put it into words. He wanted information that Dumbledore was not willing to share, that he knew Dumbledore would never tell him. Harry was angry with the old man. Harry knew that he had been partially right. It had become increasingly harder for Harry to feel anything. He felt himself backing away from people who cared about him. He didn’t want their love; he didn’t deserve it. It hurt too much. He never wanted them to feel like he did when he lost Sirius.



He heard the soft knock on the door in the early hours of the morning. He had just been drifting off into a dream. “Who is it?”

“Marcuso, Gov’na,” the gravelly voice was muffled.

“Come in.” Harry tucked his wand protectively under the table. “What is it this time?”

The Gypsy stood in the doorway and whispered, “You are to follow me.”

Harry stood and stretched, feeling the soreness in his shoulders. He retrieved his hat and stuffed it into the sack, drank a sip of water and spit it out through the open window. It felt to him as though he had swallowed to much of the foul air in the room. He pulled the cloak around his shoulders and the hood over his head and stepped into the hallway.

“If it was me, I wouldn’t go,” the man said.

Harry smirked in the dark. “Let’s go.” He listened before following the scuffling footsteps of the man. It was quiet.

Harry followed the stench of the man as he made his way down the hall, to the stairs and down into the street. Harry hesitated. The street was empty and only the feeble light of the half-moon outlined the narrow walkway.

He followed Marcuso for some distance, keeping to the shadows. The little man stopped and whispered, “There will be another in a minute to take you the rest of the way. Latcho Drom (safe journey).”

Harry had to smirk, Safe journey, huh! I'll be lucky to stay alive through the night. A figure emerged from the doorway down the street, walked within ten feet, stopped and seemed to sniff the air. He raised an arm and waved at Harry to follow. Harry kept behind the figure, amazed at the creature or man’s ability to sense him.

He was led down an alley, down stairs, through a courtyard, another street and up some stairs. He knew they were trying to confuse him so that he would not be able to find his way out of the maze of streets, rooms and yards. Harry kept glancing up at the half-moon sleeping under drifting clouds.

A voice spoke to him from the dark, “Stop.”

Harry’s heart was suddenly racing. It was wickedly dark in the garden. He knew it was a garden because of the odor of rotten vegetation; a garden that should have been sweetly aromatic in the late summer, and wasn’t.

“We must have your wand and your bag, Wizard or we cannot proceed,” the voice was cultured.

“If I refuse?” Harry asked in Romani.

They seemed to understand. One said, “We will leave you in the dark to find your own way.”

The archway overhead was lit with the weakest of lights. Two figures stood in front of him. He recognized neither. Both had their hoods drawn over their faces. He handed them the wand and bag. They searched the bag and handed it back to him. The wand was kept by the larger of the two.

He followed the smaller one and the larger followed him. They walked up a flight of stairs, over a bridge and onto an adjoining street. Harry wondered at it. He didn’t think there could be anything as vile and dark as Knockturn Alley and he’d been wrong. He thought he had to be in a sewer. The street was covered in filth and he held the cloak to his nose to keep from breathing the vapors.

They walked a short distance and then climbed several steps where he could take a deep breath of fresh air. The two men stood aside and one swept a door open to allow him to enter in front of them.. A beam of brilliant yellow light struck him and blinded him.

He pulled the hood from his head and stepped into magnificent splendor. The room was bathed in warm light, the walls dressed in sheer drapery. Pillars were gilded in gold and it reminded Harry of a picture he had seen once of a Sultan’s palace. Ornate carpets covered the floor and sofas graced the length and bread of the room; which was immense.

Men stood intermittently along the walls on both sides. At least they looked like men, but had the breadth and height of half-giants. Hagrid was still big in comparison, but Harry felt very small walking between them. It was obvious they were guards. As he passed, each took one step back and disappeared into an open doorway behind them.

Harry walked slowly towards a man laying comfortably on a couch, dressed in silk pajamas and a red silk robe. He took in every detail of the man and his heart climbed in his throat.

Seated before him, smiling broadly, was the spitting image of James Potter. The same eyes, the same mouth, even the unruly hair. If Harry had not been disguised by a charm he could be looking at an older version of himself. The man was definitely a Potter. However, their was evil in these eyes. Harry thought he would never see the same bright, burning evil in anyone but Voldemort’s eyes; that same evil he now saw in this mans’.

“Hello, good morning,” the man gestured and rose from his chair. “I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you by waking you too early. Oh, I have forgotten my manners.” He gestured and a figure emerged from the shadows. It was the vampire Kaldensky, “I have someone who can translate for us, since I understand you do not speak our language.” The vampire translated in Romani what Harry had just heard in English.

“What would bring a Romani wizard into these… quarters?” the man said sitting. He motioned for Harry to sit down in the chair before him.

“I have come looking for information and assistance,” Harry said.

The man nodded, politely offering a cup of tea delivered on a silver tray in china cups. “What you come seeking is death, good sir, if what WE ask is not forthcoming.”

Harry was too curious to let the announcement upset him. He could not take his eyes from the face. This is what my father would have looked like, he thought.

“Now you must forgive us but we will have to test your sincerity and your truthfulness. We cannot have an imposter in our midst,” The man raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. “CRUCIO.” The green light exploded at him and Harry reached up and caught it as he would the Golden Snitch or money at the Fair. Jolie had spent hours showing him how to deflect the spell. He threw it at the vampire. The vampire stood solid as a statute. It had no effect on him.

The twin image of James Potter applauded. “Bravo, bravo! Very good.” He smiled at Harry. “Only a true Vardo Gypsy could deflect the spell. Congratulations!” He noticed Harry looking at the Vampire. Don’t worry about Demitri, he is not capable of human pain or feeling.”

“Shall we get down to business,” Harry said.

“I like to know who I’m dealing with Mr.….?”

“Why do you need a name? I am here.” Harry picked up his cup and studied the very expensive oriental carpet. He didn’t think anymore spells were coming his way. He waited for the vampire to translate.

“We will exchange information,” the man said and grinned, “I like this game so I will go first. I am Jeremy H. Potter.”

Harry nodded. So we are related, he thought. “I have heard of this name, Potter.”

“Yes, I imagine you have.” The white teeth glimmered. “It is not commonly known, but I have a…well shall we say a nephew by that name.” The eyes grew darker. “Now that I have shared so much, don’t you think it’s time you tell me about yourself?”

Harry knew his time had run out, “I am here to serve the Dark Lord. I am Tommy Snape.”


Potter threw a look at Kaldensky, who disappeared instantly. The face grew cold and he stared at Harry. They remained silent. Harry remembered what Dumbledore had told him once, that Voldemort had many followers almost as terrible as he. Harry could believe it. The man staring back at him was a vile, evil monster. He had been checkmated in one move.

Chapter Ten



Lucius Malfoy appeared immediately. Harry noticed he looked exhausted and harassed. He definitely was suffering and Harry had to laugh to himself; he thought it might have something to do with the Dark Lord being angry with him. Malfoy was also groveling in front of Potter.

“Hello, Jeremy,” he bowed deeply. His clothes were disheveled, not the normal attire for the man. “I am here at your bidding.” He was not aware of Harry.

“Hello, dear man. Sorry to wake you,” It was said with a cheery good humor. “Come in.” Potter said animatedly and waved him towards the sofa. “I have someone for you to meet. I understand you know one another.”

Malfoy raised his head and glanced at Harry. In one long stride he was in front of him and raising his wand. “You…you! I will teach you…” Harry knew he would attempt to use the Cruciatus curse. When he did Harry turned it as easily back on him as he had done Potters’ . Malfoy bent double, dropping to his knees, writhing predictably on the floor.

Potter roared with laughter. “Malfoy you’re so impetuous. Ha, ha, ha. Do it again!”

Malfoy straightened up, stood and glowered down at Harry who sat calmly looking up. With one swift blow, Malfoy struck him in the face, knocking him to the floor. Harry looked up, his lip was split and bleeding.

“Oh good!” Potter said and laughed again, delighted. “You’ve resorted to muggle torture.”

Malfoy stood back and waited for Harry to rise, but Potter intervened. With a flick of his fingers, Lucius backed away and sat down ignoring Harry who was laying on the carpet bleeding..

“Tell me Lucius, what has brought you to such violence?” Potter sat back and crossed his elegantly-clad, silk-trousered legs. There was a note of gaiety in his voice.

“He helped Snape escape this last winter,” Lucius said.

“He says that he is Tommy Snape,” Potter raised an eyebrow, “A relative to Snape, Lucius?”

“That is my understanding Jeremy,” Lucius answered.

“A Gypsy?” Potter said, smiling. There was a puzzled look in his face. “Are you sure that he helped Snape escape or was he taken against his will? No, don’t answer, Malfoy.” Potter’s face grew grim, “I hate to say it but I don’t trust your judgment. Our Master has not put me in this position because I make mistakes- like his underlings.” The man’s sneer said it all. Malfoy had lost favor with Voldemort.

“Well Mr. Snape, we don’t want you going anywhere until we’ve had a chance to research your background and your actions. And we shall see how much you wish to serve. There is a little thing that interests us about you.” Potter stood and strolled around the sofa.

He lit a black cigarette set in a long obsidian holder with a gold cigarette lighter in the shape of a cat. “We are under the impression that the Gypsy wizards have many magiks that they keep secret, for instance, your ability to deflect the Cruciatus curse.” He waved the cigarette in the air and continued to circle the sofas. Harry remained where he had fallen.

“But we have some priorities. Our Master has taken ill and we understand that the Gypsy have healing potions. Since we have lost our Potions Master,” Potter looked at Lucius, “it would endear you to us if you had some cures. Until then you can be our guest.”

Harry slowly got to his knees and then to his feet. “I would be honored.”

“Do you hear that Lucius? Honored! What manners,” Potter bowed his head slightly. “Good, good. Lucius perhaps you should accompany our friend here. You can get to know one another better.”

“Jeremy, I…” Lucius started, turning ghostly and there was a slight tremor to the hand that held his walking stick.

“No, I insist,” Potter said and waved a hand. Two guards seemed to appear out of midair. “Escort my friend and his new associate to their chambers.

Harry was pushed forward by a huge hand that grabbed him by his shirt. Malfoy stood and walked beside him. His jaw was set firmly and he didn’t look at Harry.

They were led through several hallways, down stairs and into a small chamber. Harry tried to remember the course they were taking, but at each turn the room rotated and they went out the same door they entered. When the guards finally deposited them in a room it was deep in the bowels of the house, and Harry could smell the faint odors from the streets above.

Harry waited until there were no sounds before turning on Malfoy. His lip was already beginning to swell.

“So Potter, this is another fine mess you’ve got us into,” he said, the sneer was very familiar.

“Malfoy?” Harry hissed.

“Hardly,” the man said and sat down on a bench. The room was rough but clean and resembled an old wine cellar. They had one light that played on the roughly hewn cedar walls. There were no windows visible. Large wine casks lined the small room and there was a faint smell of wine.

“Professor Snape?” Harry gasped.

“Yes.”

“Can we be overheard?” Harry asked, sliding into an old chair in front of him.

“No.” Snape had his hand on his brow as if he had a headache. To Harry it looked very strange seeing Lucius Malfoy acting like Severus Snape.

“What did you…?” Harry stuttered.

“Polyjuice potion, of course,” Snape said tiredly, “There is enough here for you. We were fortunate that I was not searched. When they return you will take my place and I think that Jeremy will let you go. He may want to punish you a little, but you‘ll survive.”

“And the real Malfoy…” Harry asked, “dead?”

“No, Potter,” Snape answered coldly, “in this world you risk an unacceptable result if you act too rashly. That is something you have yet to learn. If I killed Lucius he would only be replaced by someone with the potential to be much worse.”

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Don’t you know Potter?” Snape looked suddenly sad, “Draco, of course.”

“Draco!” Harry sat back stunned. “Why Draco?”

“We don’t have time for this Potter.” Snape handed him a silver flask. “In less than an hour I will have my own body and you must become Lucius.”

“But Pro…Severus, you’ll be discovered! They want you…really badly!” Harry was already backing away from the flask.

“What exactly were you thinking when you did this Potter?” Snape asked. “Of all the men you could have met, Jeremy Potter is the absolute worst, barring You-Know-Who, of course.” Snape sounded strange.

“Look, I couldn’t go back to Hogwarts knowing that it was just a matter of time. I thought that I could get some helpful information.” Harry stopped. It sounded foolish even to him. “I need to stop waiting for IT to happen!”

“What kind of information?” Snape asked the question gently. “Listen you can’t go at it this way. You’re too inexperienced. I managed to find you because I have walked these streets and dealt with these… people for a long time. I have a certain status, still…” he stopped. Harry knew that he was talking about being a Death Eater. “Anyway, you cannot reach You-Know-Who. He is too well guarded as you can see. Potter is one of several that very quietly stay in the background, unobtrusively protecting Him. There are very few who know he exists.”


“Who is he Professor? Harry asked. “He looks like my father.”

“Potter, they will come back and they will make you tell them everything you know. They will use veritaserum and torture. You will tell them who you are and they will use that information.”

“What information? That I’m Harry Potter. They’ll just kill me. That’s what they want.” Harry shrugged.

“Are you so ready for that to happen, Potter?” Snape cast his eyes over Harry’s face, “You forget, there is now more in your mind then that!” Snape said quietly. “A lot more.” He waited and then said, “You have a new wife, do it for her.”

“I made a mistake by marrying. If anyone gets to close to me they end up dying. It’s better this way.” He sat back and felt the mirror lying warmly against his chest.

“Take the potion,” Snape said and handed it to him again and Harry refused it. Snape sighed, “There are two important people. The Guardian…” Snape whispered, and the Other.”

“What Other?” Harry asked.

“The Protector,” he answered. “There always have been both. You’re father was the Guardian and unbeknownst to him, I was his protector. I went out into the Dark world and made sure that he remained safe.” Snape sat the flask on the table. “You would never have known of this except that Albus could not bear the thought that you would be killed. So I am the bearer of the truth, you might say.”

Harry remained silent and listened. He knew that for once, he was going to finally hear it all.

“Your father denied the Dark Lord something he wanted, as did the Longbottoms. Malfoy, on the other hand, pledged it to him. Tom Riddle demanded that each give a son to him as a sign of their loyalty; to join him at his side. Your father denied him as did the Longbottoms.”

“The prophecy…!” Harry said, thinking about the wording.

“Yes. Children born in the seventh month.” Snape nodded.

“Draco?”

“Yes. He was pledged at birth by Lucius,” Snape said staring at Harry, the light eyes beginning to turn the shade of dark of his Potions Professor.

“And the Protector?” Harry asked.

“Since we both know, now, that you are not the Guardian, who do you think the Protector is?” Snape asked. “Someone who has no family, who can infiltrate the Dark forces and constantly manipulate and deceive and spy, so that the Guardian is kept safe. The Champion of the Guardian, as you please. The one who was prophesized to kill the Dark Lord?”

Harry ignored what Snape was saying, “You were Protector? But you hated my father!”

“It did not mean that I could free myself from that obligation. Besides Mr. Potter, I did not do it for your father, but for the one who loved him.”

“Albus.” Harry murmured.

Snape nodded.

“You failed.”

Snape hair began to darken and the nose elongate. “Yes. Your father was killed.” Snape’s body was almost completely transformed. “ I was responsible for your father’s death. You should hate me for that.”

“You’re changing, Professor,” Harry said. He watched with fascination as his Potions professor appeared before him.

Snape glanced at his hands and then looked back at Harry.

“You’re saying that I’m the Protector,” Harry said.

“Yes.” Snape nodded, the dark hair now down around his face and into his eyes. “By taking the steps that you have, you follow that path already.”

“Who is Jeremy Potter?” Harry asked, sensing that there was more.

Snape looked at him carefully and said, ‘I will tell you on the condition that you drink the Polyjuice potion first.”

Harry stared at him. “That would mean your death.”

“I failed in my job and I serve no purpose now,” Snape said. “Take the potion, I am the one who did not save your father.”

“I can’t do that Severus,” Harry said.

“If you don’t, you condemn the rest of the world to horrors worse than anything you can imagine,” Snape frowned as he said the words but not in his usual angry manner. “Because we will both die and there will be no one to protect the Guardian.”

“There has to be another way,” Harry said.

“Oh yes, please tell me?” Snape smirked. “Do we have another escape plan? No, I think not. You are now in a fortress.” Snape stood and began to circle the room. “I want you to listen to me and hear me.” He stopped to glance at Harry who nodded. The flask sat on the table.

“I killed my father,” Snape said. “I murdered him, just like Tom Riddle did to his father and Malfoy did to his; and there are others- all of the Death Eaters.”

Harry frowned, What is he doing? he wondered. “Your father was a cruel man. He abused you. I’m not surprised you hated him.” Snape turned and looked at him. Harry couldn’t read the expression written in his eyes.

“But I didn’t just hate him, Potter,” Snape gasped, “I loved him, too.” He turned away and continued to prowl the chamber, “I was pledged to the Dark Lord. My father did not know what I truly was; that I had another destiny. I have only just learned…”


Harry waited and thought about it. So Snape had killed his father. That must mean he also gave up a son to the Dark Lord. What did this have to do with James Potter, his father? Harry shook his head, this wasn’t making sense. “

Snape stopped and turned away, “Your father is dead Harry.”

“Yes, I know Severus,” Harry answered, frowning. Was his Potions Master going round the bend?

“He is dead and will never come back,” Snape said. “You will never know his love. He will never be able to speak to you. He will never touch you, as a father to a son.”

Harry stood and walked over to the man. He place a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Severus.” He thought Snape was sharing the pain of losing a father, sharing his guilt at not having protected James Potter and having killed his own father.

Snape shrugged the hand off and turned. They were face to face. “Jeremy, is the body of James Potter possessed by a Death Eater.”

Harry stared at him and then began to back away.

“Whatever happens Harry, know that he no longer lives, he is not there, not in his eyes or his face. He does not know you. James Potter is gone, irretrievably. Jeremy possesses a shell.”

“Who has possession…? Harry choked out the words.

“My father, Brahm Leviticus Snape, ” Snape said. “V…Voldemort did the transfiguration charm that transferred him. I killed my father and the second it happened Voldemort killed Potter… your father. Brahm Snape lives inside your father’s body.”


Harry gasped for air, the room seemed to spin.

Snape hurried on, “ Albus told me. Brahm could only possess a pureblood and there were very few of them around. The Potter’s were, of course, purebloods. What he didn’t know and Voldemort didn’t know was that he possessed the body of a Guardian.”

“D…does that make a difference?” Harry gasped.

“If you kill him, you will be the next Lord Voldemort, all of his powers will be transferred to you,” Snape said.

“And, if you kill him?” Harry asked barely able to breath.

“The same holds true for me, a Protector cannot kill a Guardian,” Snape said. He stood in the shadows and watched the boy collapse in on himself. “I didn’t know what Voldemort planned. I killed my father because he was in the act of murdering my mother. Voldemort planned it that way.” Snape walked over picked up the flask and held it to him. “Take it now before its to late. There are only two possible outcomes to this. We die or he dies. I will say it again, we cannot kill him and I have sacrificed a lifetime to prevent this from happening.”

Harry stared at the flask. He reached for it but held it in his hand. “I can’t do it, Severus. I have a way to get us out of here but we can’t be in a protected room.”

“What this time, Potter? More mirrors?” Snape sneered, bent over, his face inches from Harry’s, “Did you hear me? Have you been listening. We have to get you out of here. You are the Protector for the next Guardian.” Snape straightened and Harry saw his face twist into a look of anger. “I am not worth a sacrifice on your part. My time has come.”

“You said it yourself, they’ll let Lucius go. Take this,” Harry held up the mirror with the flask, “contact Ron and he’ll bring help to get us out.”

“So, IT IS more mirrors. Well it won’t work. By the time help got to you, you would be dead. Or worse. I tell you this now, Jeremy will learn your identity. That simple charm will not keep it from him for long. You will look in the face of your father and you will fail Potter, because you want it to be him. You will want it to be James Potter and it is not! He is an abominable trick!”

“Have you told me everything?” Harry asked.

Snape nodded, a frown on his face.

“What about your son?” Harry gulped, “Every Death Eater pledged a son in order to be a Death Eater. Where is your son? Did you give him up?”

Snape’s lips grew thin, “He died before Voldemort could take him. If he had not, I would have taken his life.”

Harry stared in disbelief, “And his mother?”

“I let her go, because I believed as you do now that being tied to someone… to me, could only cause pain. She is dead.” Snape stood erect, his jaw set. “Do you want to turn out like me Potter? No?” he smiled, “Take the potion!”


“And what about the others? Draco?” Harry asked, “Are you going to leave them, for Him?” He shook his head. “That’s why you’re Head of Slytherin House. You’ve tried to keep them from going over to him.”

Snape turned away.

Harry studied the man’s back. “I seem to recall taking an oath, On Pain of Death, Snape. That meant something to me,” Harry said and raised the mirror and spoke, “ Ron!” He glared at Snape as he turned, and said, “If we’re gonna die, we’ll do it together fighting.”

Chapter Eleven

Two of the half-giants came for them. They opened the door and pulled Lucius Malfoy and Tommy Snape from the room, led them back through the maze and into a room that resembled a well. It was circular, made of white chalky brick. Twenty feet over their heads Harry could see a metal grid and open air. The sun had come up and sunlight was streaming down inside. It was also clean. Both were secured in iron manacles to the wall.

Snape was putting on a good act. “Tell Jeremy Potter that the Dark Lord will hear of this and not be pleased.” The half-giant pressed his hand into the chains. Both heard the laughter before they saw him.

Jeremy Potter stepped into the doorway, leaning against it; watching as his henchmen finished their tasks. “Oh I don’t think he’s going to mind to much, Lucius. You know how he feels about failure. Besides, I haven’t made up my mind yet whether to kill you.” He stood and walked over to Harry. “Or whether to kill you- my son.” The hand curled underneath Harry’s chin.

Potter pulled a thin black wand from his pocket and wiped it over Harry’s face. The Charm was broken and Harry stood transformed into himself; the black hair, the green eyes and the scar, revealed.

“Father,” Harry said. He could hear Snape’s chains rattle.

“Oh, so you know?” Jeremy Potter smiled and crooned, “Oh you do look so much like me- and your mother. You have her eyes.” Potter examined his face, gently touching his cheek with the back of his hand. “You know Lucius, I do think I have a little job for you. It could put you back in our good graces.”

Potter walked over and waved his wands at Snape’s manacles and they separated, freeing him.

“Let’s see a little more of that muggle torture you demonstrated before,” Potter grinned, “That was entertaining.” Potter pointed the wand. “Go on.”

Snape stood erect, straightening his clothes. “You’ve had your fun with me Jeremy now let me go.” Harry thought he looked and acted like the real Malfoy, arrogant and effusive.

“Oh no, not yet. Go on Lucius. You were in such a hurry to do it before. Beat him up.” Potter raised his index finger as he turned away, “Ah, but you can’t kill him. I do not want to deny the Dark Lord his treat in watching him die very, very slowly and painfully.” Potter looked at Harry. “You see Harry, we know what you did to him and he is very upset with you.” Potter leaned against the wall and put his wand in his pocket, he withdrew a black cigarette and lit it without the use of a lighter.

Snape walked over to Harry and hesitated. He stood so that Harry was hidden from Potters view.

Harry watched Potter over his shoulder and whispered, “There is a ring in my pocket. Hit me.”

Snape slapped him and sent his head bouncing painfully against the wall.

“Take it out. It is a time stopper. Hit me, again.” Harry whispered and braced himself.

“Come now, Lucius,” Potter said breezily, “where is all that energy you were showing me earlier? This boy has made a fool of you more than once. Hit him!”

Snape closed his fist and hit Harry in the nose, breaking it. His head dropped and blood gushed down over his shirt. Snape moved in close to grab Harry by the shirt and yank his head up. Harry could feel a hand slip into his pocket.

Harry gasped, “Turn the inside of the ring once to the left. Hit me again.” He screamed to cover his words. “Father no, please!”

Snape struck him with his fist and Harry’s head flew to the side spurting blood across Snape’s face.

“Oh very good Snape. Let’s not bloody up that face too much, though. After all he does look like me.” The arrogant man giggled behind them. He had propped one foot against the wall and leaned casually against it watching the proceedings.

“Father, please don’t let him do it. I’ll do anything,” Harry pleaded.

Snape frowned, looking at Harry.

“Do it!” Harry spit out.

“Hit him,” Potter said quietly, “or I’ll kill you!” The sound of Harry’s screaming was muffled by the wall.

“Again.” Potter said.

Snape lunged back and went to strike, turned the ring and stopped with his palm on Harry’s chest. Time stopped. Snape turned with his hand on Harry and looked at Potter. He was frozen in a laugh, head bent. A cigarette burned in one hand and his wand was held lazily in the other.

“Don’t turn lose of me Snape,” Harry said through blood. “If you do then I am not part of the shield. We have seconds before the time-stopper is inactive. For every turn, you get a minute.” Harry struggled. “You have to get his wand. Reach for it!”

Snape reached out and keeping his fingers on Harry grabbed the wand from the frozen hand. He reached down and turned the ring a dozen times. “That should give us a few minutes.” With the wand he unhooked the manacles with ALOHAMORA. “Help me.”

The two grabbed each other by the forearms with one hand and pulled the frozen figure of Potter over to the manacles. Snape tucked the wand under an arm and doubled up his fist. He hit the frozen Potter as hard as he could. Harry‘s wand fell out of the man’s clothes. “ Here, “ Snape held it out to him, “Time is going start any minute now. “Let’s go! Run!”

Harry stood for a fraction longer staring at the man. He kept repeating over and over, You are not James Potter. He is dead.

“Come on!” Snape pulled him through the door into a hallway. They were running in the dark. Harry just kept moving, depending on the sound of Snape ahead of him. Periodically flashes of light from open doorways lit their way. The halls were empty.

“Do you know where we are?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but it’s not going to help much. We are deep in the heart of Potter’s lair and there is a lot between us and freedom,” Snape said, stopping for a moment in a dark corner and peering cautiously around. “Where did you get a time-stopper and why didn’t you tell me about it when we were spending such quality time down there in that hole?”

“Well, I imagine Hermione got it when we were fighting in the Department of Mysteries, “ Harry huffed. They were moving again and he was trying to speak at the same time, “She had a time turner for classes. We used it to help Sirius escape on Buckbeak and I think she figured out what the ring was when we were in the same room with the time-turners at the Department of Mysteries.”

“You did what?” Snape skidded to a halt and glared at him, “So that’s how he got out! And she stole this?” he was looking at the silver ring on his hand.

Harry nodded, looking anxiously behind him. “Can we talk about this later, Severus?”

Snape glared at the ring on his finger. Coming to his senses he jerked his head up and stared around, “This way.”

They ran full out up stairs and down a long corridor that had windows open to a courtyard.

“Can we apparate Severus?” Harry asked, his voice muffled and nasal from his swollen nose and mouth.

“Not inside the grounds,” Snape glanced into the courtyard and headed for a set of stairs, one leading up and one down.


Harry wiped his face with his sleeve and still could not stop the flow from his nose. “Remind me when we are out of here Severus, that I owe you one- or two,” he spit blood into a potted palm and felt the sharp edge of a broken tooth with his tongue.

Suddenly they heard noises coming from behind them. Snape stared at Harry and the looked up, through open the doors. “He’s free.” They stopped at the stairs.

“Which way?” Harry asked looking back and pointing his wand.

“Don’t know!” Snape said.

“Well choose!” Harry hissed. Snape grabbed the stair rail and flew down the stairs with Harry after him. They were once again in a long hall and then running down more stairs. Harry lost sight of the sunlight streaming through tall windows lining a white stucco wall and followed Snape’s disappearing black figure around a bend. Down more stairs they ran and through a large cavernous room to a another bend.

Harry was struggling to get air. His nose was still bleeding and swelling. “Snape!” The man turned at a doorway. “Can you do something about my nose, before I bleed to death.” Harry noticed his shirt looked like a slaughter house, it was covered in blood.

“I can’t fix the break but I’ll stop the bleeding. Your nose may be a little crooked, he said.

Harry nodded and waved at him to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry!” Snape pointed his wand at Harry’s face and a thin light played over his face. He immediately felt better. “Thanks, that’s much better.”

“Come on,” Snape urged.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Harry asked as they sped down a hallway that grew darker and darker. The musty smell of the street leaked through the walls as did a dark fluid.

“Unfortunately no. I had hoped we could find stairs that led up to the courtyard,” he said, as he was opening a door that led to even darker environs. “Come on we’ll have to try this.”

They moved through this hallway more slowly. It was lined with open rooms. They had to peer into each before moving on. Suddenly Snape stopped and Harry slipped behind him looking back in the dark.

“What is it?” he asked.

Snape groaned, “What I was hoping we wouldn’t run into.”

Harry poked his head around Snape and looked into the room. He was surprised. They had found Cornelius Fudge and Percy Weasley. They were unconscious.

“We have to take them with us.” Harry said, listening for noises behind them.

“Yes. Such a shame too. They’re going to slow us down.” Snape surveyed the scene without making a move.

“Severus, we have to take them with us!” Harry insisted. He knew what Snape was thinking. He knew that he wanted Harry out more than he wanted to save Percy and Cornelius’ lives.

“Very well.” There was very little light in the hallway and the rooms and Harry had to squint to see the hallway. Snape bent over each one and then fashioned a stretcher in which he piled Percy on top of Cornelius and pronounced, ‘MOBILICORPUS’ , which lifted the stretcher from the floor. “ Potter why don’t you run along ahead of me while I take these two.”

Harry glanced at him. Snape was looking very innocently back at him. “No, Severus, we’re going together or not at all. I watch your back you watch mine. That’s how it works.”

Snape smirked. “You are the most stubborn, self-important…”

“I’ve heard this song before Severus, shall we get out of here!” Harry waved his hand to allow Snape to move the stretcher out the door. “By the way, what can I do if I run across one of those gorillas, those half-giants?”

“Aim for the eyes and blind them. They are really stupid.” Snape murmured as they moved down another flight of stairs. Harry followed, his wand pointed back the way they had come. He noticed they were in a tunnel, a sewer tunnel. Snape lit his wand, with LUMOS and they were making their way through foul, ankle-deep black water. The air was putrid with foul gases and air. Harry bent and walked to keep his head below the stench.

“Severus, we’re in a sewer,” Harry said in disgust.

“We probably should have taken the stairs up rather than down,” Snape’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “Too late now.”

It seemed to Harry that they had walked a least a mile underground. He thought he would never straighten and stand erect again. The pain in his back was stabbing. He wondered at Snape’s stamina, he was much taller.

They came to a bend and there was a faint light shining, a tiny beam of sunlight shone against the wall. Harry looked up and saw mossy dripping rungs on the wall. They both stopped and examined the hole that went up. It gave them both a chance to stand up.

“This may be a way out, Potter. It could lead to the street,” Snape said. “You go first and then call down.”

Harry put a foot on the first rung and heard a voice in the dark, “Oh I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Harry glanced back one hand on a rung of the ladder. Demitri Kaldensky stood behind Snape, his hand in Snape’s hair, head pulled back and his face leaning over Snape’s neck. The eyes that seemed so bright to Harry before, gleamed red in the dark and Harry noticed three inch fangs extending towards a pulsing vein in Snape’s neck.

“Why don’t you let me go Demitri,” Snape growled, “for old time’s sake.” He was bent so far back, Harry was surprised he wasn’t breaking in two. It was obvious he was in agony.


Demitri laughed and the white fangs flashed for a moment in the single ray of reflected sunlight penetrating the gloom.

“Let the boy go,” Snape said. “Keep these other two, keep me, but let him go.” He struggled in the viselike grip of the vampire.

“I prefer not to be walled up again, Severus. The last time I made Jeremy angry I sat in a hole for a month. I became very thirsty my friend.” The vampire retracted his fangs. “Now drop your wand and tell your young friend to drop his. These two aren’t going anywhere soon. I’ll dine on them at my leisure later.”

Snape was urging Harry with his eyes but Harry was immobilized. He knew that there was no spell that could harm the vampire and if the vampire bit Snape, it would take him seconds to exsanguinate him. The vampire’s teeth were like hollow tubes, they would sink in and pump the blood out with each beat of his heart.

“Tommy, climb the ladder and leave me here,” Snape said calmly. A button on his vest dazzled briefly in Harry’s eye.

“Severus, my pure-blooded friend,” Demitri purred, “you must do as I say. He cannot escape me, nor can you. I do not want to kill you. The Dark Lord wants you alive. But he would forgive me for taking the boy and I will do it.” Demitri gave Snape one wrenching jerk. “Tell him drop his wand.”

Harry saw the flash of light on the brass button and knew what to do. Fumbling in the dark with one hand, he found the mirror. He jockeyed for a place where the mirror would be useful, letting go of the ladder rung and moving cautiously forward.

Snape was beside himself. The vampire had forced him to his knees and was bent over him staring at Harry. “What are you doing?” Snape groaned. His arm was so twisted behind his back by the vampire, Harry was sure it was going to snap at any second.

“Young master,” Demitri grinned. He was extending his fangs again. “Shall I teach you a lesson about vampires?” He glanced at Snape.

Harry took the opportunity to pull out the mirror and extend his arm until it caught the one beam of sunlight streaming in from above. In a second he had redirected it at the vampire. It caught him in the eyes.

He screamed and turned lose of Snape who dropped to all fours in the soupy water and then back against the wall. Harry redirected it at once; finding the vampire with his hand over his face, standing in the corner. Demitri screamed again and then disappeared.

Harry was left with Snape and the two unconscious figures of Percy and Cornelius Fudge laying in the water. He quickly turned them over so that they wouldn’t drown and bent over Snape.

“Severus, are you alright?” he gasped, glancing around to gaze into the dark.

“Yes, I am,” Snape shrugged his hand off. “Keep watch and don’t let go of that mirror for an instant.” He remained still. Harry slipped back against the wall beside him, his energy almost spent.

“I’ve read about vampires,” Harry commented, sucking in a great lungful of foul air, “they are really dreadful creatures aren’t they?”

“Potter, when are you ever going to follow my orders?” Snape asked weakly.

“When it doesn’t involve one of us dying, I guess,” Harry said. He said LUMOS and lit the end of his wand and examined the round tunnel and its other occupants. Cornelius and Percy looked as if they were sleeping. Harry glanced at Snape. He wasn’t making any attempts to move. “Are you sure you’re ok? He asked worried.

“Potter, I want you to listen to me,” Snape began.

“Oh no, not another ‘I want you to listen to me’ story. What’s wrong?” Harry turned to him. The man looked back.

“I can’t move,” Snape said. “I want you to go up that ladder and see what’s up there. If you’re on the street then I want you to apparate to the Order’s headquarters and find Lupin.”

“What’s wrong?” Harry looked over Snape’s body and could see no blood. “I’m not going anywhere…”

“Potter,” Snape grabbed him and said weakly, “Harry, I have a broken back and I can’t move my legs.” His fist was twisted into Harry’s shirt.

Harry sat back and gaped.

“You must save yourself. Demitri will bring Jeremy and we will all be caught,” Snape whispered, frowning and in pain, “ We have a chance if you can reach some help.”

“I…I can’t leave you,” Harry gasped. “Can’t you heal it, or do something….?”

“Listen, he won’t kill me. He’ll want to torture me for information. It will give you time to get help,” Snape said it and let go. He pulled his wand from his cloak. “Besides, remember who he is, he’ll enjoy keeping me alive.”

Chapter Twelve


“Harry?” a muffled voice called his name. It came from his palm which held the mirror. Harry glanced down. A face was barely visible in the dark.

“Ron!” Harry clutched the mirror and glanced at Snape who had his eyes closed. “You’ve got to come and help me. I’ve got Severus and Cornelius and your brother. We’re somewhere in the sewers.”

“You’ve got to help me find you, Harry,” Ron said looking at him from the mirror.

“Alright, I’m going to climb up to the street and see where we are. Severus is hurt so you’ve got to come quickly. Tell Jolie to find a Romani by the name of Marcuso. Hold on now.” Harry held the wand and mirror in one hand and climbed. The way became narrow and he struggled to pull himself to the surface as dirt and filth dropped into his face.

He managed the sewer manhole and climbed out onto a cobbled street. It wasn’t Knockturn Alley but very much like it, with the same close, atrocious atmosphere. The streets were, however, empty. Harry glanced around for markers so that he could return to Snape. Sticking his head down in the small hole he whispered down, “I’m going to find Ron, I’ll be back.”

Harry closed the cover carefully and noted the name of the shop sitting closest to it. He kept his wand in front of him and hurried down the street.





An hour later he found them. Ron and Hermione were with Jolie and Marcuso. They were walking down the street, keeping to the shadows.

“Ron!” Harry hurried forward.

Hermione saw the condition of his face and clothes, “Merlin’s beard what has happened to you? Are you alright? I’ll go get Dumbledore.” She hurried off before he could answer he was busy talking to Jolie.

“We have to go back this way,” Harry was saying. “I left them in sewer. We can get to them through the sewer hole. There’s a ladder, I used it to climb out. Come on!”

Ron and Jolie didn’t argue. Jolie had the old Gypsy, Marcuso, by the back of his cloak. They were joined almost immediately by Lupin, Arthur Weasley, and other Romani; Gregor, Pascal and Viktor. They followed Harry to the manhole and watched as he disappeared. One by one they climbed into the hole

Down in the sewer Harry searched frantically. Cornelius Fudge and Percy remained where he left them but there was no sign of Snape. Harry hurried back through the tunnel, Remus and Ron following him.

“Wait Harry,” Remus managed to grab his robe. “If there are half-breed giants and a vampire ahead of us, perhaps it would be best if you let me go first. Ron, go back and see if Jolie will bring Marcuso up here, too. He’ll know this place, he’s an old sewer rat.”

“But they’ve taken him! We have to go now,” Harry was frantic.

Lupin held onto Harry’s shirt stained crimson with his own blood, “He’s already gone Harry and you know it.” Lupin’s face was grim in the half light, “We’ll search and we won’t find him. You already know this.”


“AArghhh!” Harry grasped his face in his hand and wailed. Jolie came rushing through the tunnel, with Gregor and Ron behind him.

“Harry!” Jolie reached him. He was dragging the ragged Gypsy with him. “Chav, what is the matter?”

Lupin stood with one arm around him clasping him to his chest and remaining silent, while Harry moaned.


The group searched the many halls and even the maze; the rooms were empty.




Harry was sitting on one of the fine couches in the large salon when Hermione and Dumbledore entered through the double-wide walnut doors. Harry looked up and read the sadness and worry on Dumbledore’s face. Lupin and Ron sat on each side of him and reached for him when he stood.


“Harry, are you hurt badly?” Dumbledore asked, examining his face and clothes.

“No,” Harry said, “But Severus is; we have to find him now,” Harry insisted. He was beside himself and Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder.

“We must get you back to Hogwarts and clean you up. You need some rest.”

“No!” Harry shoved the hand off and the people in the room gasped. “I’ll go by myself if I have to, but I’m not leaving him in the hands of that monster!”

“Harry, it is too late. They are gone.” Dumbledore stood calmly and firmly in front of him. “You’re not going anywhere until you have rested.”

“Albus!” Harry began to argue.

Dumbledore held up his hand. “Remus, help me, we need to get him back to Hogwarts.” They found a fireplace and three of them shoved him in. He was whirling in the ashes and heat on his way to Hogwarts.

He arrived in Dumbledore’s study, his agitation had not abated. Standing in front of him was Nadya. He thought she looked very pretty standing barefoot in her long skirts, the light from the windows shining on her long hair.

“Harry!” she ran to him and enveloped him in her arms. “Mi dehiba (my love)” He buried his face in her hair and held her unaware of several figures that were materializing from the fireplace behind him.




An hour later, showered and resting in a bed in Madam Pomphrey’s hospital room, Harry held Nadya’s hand and lay looking at her as he drifted off to sleep. She climbed in beside him and rested her hair on his chest. Lupin stood nearby, having forced Harry to take a sleeping draught. After he saw the boy’s eyes close, he met Ron and Hermione and the three walked the corridor to Dumbledore’s office.



Harry woke when it was dark and a single lamp lit the end of the room. He recognized where he was and he felt the weight of Nadya’s head on his chest. She had fallen asleep with her arm thrown over him.

“Nadya,” he whispered. She woke and opened her dark eyes. She smiled when she saw him looking at her. “I didn’t think a gypsy girl would ever come inside Hogwarts,” Harry said and kissed her on the lips.

“I have come because my man is here,” she said smiling. She raised herself on her elbow and looked into his bruised face. Madam Pomphrey had reset and fixed his nose but the bruising remained. “Why have you done this thing?”

He propped himself up on the pillow and looked at her. “You know that I must fight the Kalo Beng someday. It is my obligation.”

She sat up and looked at him firmly, “Va, I know this. But you walk into the devil’s nest. Why do you do this? You want this devil to kill you so soon?”

“Nadya,” Harry sighed, “I grow tired of waiting for it. I want it to end, I want some peace and I don’t want to have to worry about people that I love getting hurt.” He choked. “I always seem to do the wrong thing and now Snape is probably being tortured and I can’t do anything about it.” Harry tossed the covers back. “I left him!”

“Harry!” She was up and around to his side of the bed. She was looking angry and he saw a fire in her eyes that been there only once that he could remember. It was a haughty but firm look that she gave him. “We can find this Gadjo that was with you; this Snape-man, the one who was at the wedding. We can do this.” She raised her finger and pointed it at his face, “You will not do this alone. I have met your friends and they love you as much as I do. We do this together. Do you not understand that you are not alone!”

“Nadya,” he began.

“Nah! Harry.’ She shook the magnificent mane of hair and frowned, “You are my little boy,” she kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair, looking deep into his eyes. “You do not understand. We stand together or we stand apart. I took you as my husband, I will never abandon you. I know that you would leave me; stay apart from me out of your fear.” Harry began to protest, and she shook her head, “I know what is in your heart. If you want your freedom from me I will give it, for there is nothing that a Roma desires more than his freedom. But you cannot ask me to let you go in my heart.”

“If you were to get hurt…” he began.

“Is it less for me to suffer when you hurt? We suffer; today we suffer in the rain, tomorrow in the heat. We suffer when those we love die and when they are born. Agh!” she threw up her hands and spun on her heel, “ I tell you my love, you cannot take it from me. You cannot take my pain. It is mine to bear! If we are together or apart, it will be there. Someday you will have to stand and watch me suffer and you will do it.”

She waved her hand like a whip in the air and turned back to him. “When I took you as my husband I knew there would be long times between the days we would be together. I knew that the Kalo Beng might kill you and I would not see you again. I knew this and I chose you anyway. Harry, what I tell you is this, I would be with you one minute or a thousand. It does not matter, I love no other.” He stood watching her and the line of her straight shoulders, and her head held high.

He held his breath as her words sunk in. “I couldn’t stand it, Nadya, if I were responsible, the cause of something happening to you.”


“You do not choose the path I walk, or the road I travel,” she said.

“Snape came after me…” Harry began, “to protect me. And now he’s been caught, I…”

She interrupted, “What you cannot stand is being afraid,” she said raising her chin.

Harry slipped off the bed barefoot to the cold floor, facing her in his pajamas. “I’m not afraid.” He was growing angry.

“Yes.” She nodded and there was a piercing look in her eyes. “You fear to take the dragon by the tail.” She walked slowly towards him, speaking slowly, the candlelight playing over her face. “My love, you have the power to make a desert bloom; but in doing so- you also fear you might empty an ocean. You stand frozen, unable to act because of what your actions bring.” She was nose to nose with him and he was staring down into the pools of her dark eyes. “Do you not think that we all face this? This Gadjo- Snape- he knew what he was doing. It was his choice and he may die for his choice. But you- you’re afraid to make choices and live with your mistakes.”

Harry gazed into her face stupefied.

“Your friends will follow you into battle, die for you, because they want to. It is their choice. I will die for you, proudly.” She stared at him. “But no one will not follow a coward.”

Harry held onto the bed and gaped at her.

She kissed him on the lips delicately and turned to walk to the door. “I will wait for you. If you want to find this old Crow, then you know where to find me.” Then she left.




Harry was dressed and out the door with Madam Pomphrey fast behind him sputtering, “Now Mr. Potter, you must go back to bed and rest.”

“No, Madam Pomphrey,” he turned. “I’m not going to rest just yet.” He left her in the dark hallway and headed to Dumbledore’s office. Students stopped to stare at him as he walked. He had forgotten that he was suppose to be dead to most of them.

Chapter Thirteen

 

Snape curled himself into a ball and covered himself with his filthy, wet cloak. He was somewhere in a cellar in an old house, that much he knew. The rest he could only surmise. Jeremy Potter had found him in the sewer just as Harry had whispered down to him. The manhole cover had clanked into position and then he was alone.

Jeremy healed his broken back, put him restraints and had taken him back through the tunnels to the house. With a very angry and blind vampire at his side, they smuggled him into a carriage drawn by two black horses and raced through the streets. Snape was blind-folded and muzzled with a Charm. He knew he was riding with Jeremy.

“Ah Snape, my friend. You have tricked us and disappointed us.” The voice remained steady, “Tut, tut, I so dearly loved that house and now I can’t return.” Jeremy lit a cigarette and Snape could smell it’s pungent aroma. A very angry vampire sat beside him.

“Jeremy, let me have him,” Kaldensky said.

“No, no,” Jeremy hushed him. “The Master would like a word with our friend. Until then you can keep your fangs away from him. He has the key to the Master’s illness; him and that maggot of a boy. We want him alive. He can lure the boy back to us and we need his blood.”

“He has blinded me,” Kaldensky moaned.

“I will stake you through the heart and lay you out in the sun if you don’t stop your whimpering,” Potter said, nonchalantly.

Rough hands pushed him, led him and then shoved him into the cell-like enclosure. It was completely dark and he could hear nothing. He thought it was best to try and rest before they began what he knew would be torture and then eventual death at the hands of his own father.

 

Harry met Lupin, Ron and Hermione leaving Dumbledore’s office. Ron spoke first, “He doesn’t want to do anything.” He referred to the meeting they had just had with Dumbledore.

“I’m going to find Snape,” Harry said. “Are you coming?”

Hermione and Ron nodded, but Lupin held back.

“Remus?” Harry asked.

“Harry, Dumbledore makes the decisions for the Order. He usually knows what he’s doing.”

“You can come or stay, Remus. If we wait longer Severus will die.” Harry turned, “Maybe I should let my wife talk to you, she has a way of persuading people.” He was already headed down the hall, and said over his shoulder, “ First we have to find their camp.”

Hermione rushed up and Ron followed, “You don’t have to Harry. As soon as we knew where you’d gone we contacted Jolie. They’re camped on the grounds down by Hagrid’s hut.”

“Are we really going after that old git?” Rona asked. Harry stopped and turned on him.

“He saved my life Ron,” he answered quietly. “He’s probably paying for with his own life right now. He’s…he’s my friend.”

Ron studied him for a moment and nodded, “Knew sooner or later I’d have to sacrifice myself for him.” He tried a small grin.

Harry snorted, “Let’s hope not.” They walked down through the grassy lawns, feeling the first frost dampening their shoes and robes. There were dozens of lights and several bonfires lightening up the area around Hagrid’s hut. He led them into the center. Jolie and the men were gathered around a bonfire while women cooked at other fires and children peeked their heads out from under wagons. Jolie looked up.

“Hello, Chav,” his said, his face blank.

“I want to know how to find the old Crow,” Harry said in Romani, “I could use some help.”

“You have come to the right place, my son. Bring your friends and we will talk.” Jolie stood and Harry noticed the ancient old crone, Tshaya sitting next to him. On her left was the Gypsy, Marcuso.

“Why is that shameless rat here?” Harry said angrily.

“Sit and have something to eat,” Jolie stepped over and took Harry’s arm. He motioned Hermione and Ron to join them. “Harry you sit and listen to the old woman. She helps us understand.” He spoke in English for Ron and Hermione. In Romani he said, “Have you forgotten your manners young one.”

Tshaya was very old. She had white chin hairs that curled, giving her the appearance of having a beard. Her gray hair was wrapped in a scarf and she wore large hoop earrings. Her hands were veined, old and crooked. Harry knew that she always smoked a long stem pipe and had even given a prophesy about him at one time concerning Snape.

Harry sat and watched. He translated for Ron and Hermione.

“What she doing, Harry?” Hermione was listening intently.

“The Romani have a court where they judge someone’s behavior. Everyone that is an elder in the camp gets to have a say about the crime or the punishment. Tshaya is the oldest and everyone will listen to what she has to say.”

“Ooh, this is fascinating.” Hermione looked around at the fire-lit faces. “Where are the other women? Why aren‘t they included?”

Harry glanced at her and rubbed his face, covered his mouth and mumbled, “They aren’t allowed to come into the circle.”

“What, what did you say?” she asked. Ron shushed her.

Marcuso was standing before them, “Old mother,” he began. “I am cursed. I drink too much and I live among the Gadjo. I have done many bad things and lost my way.” His head dropped. “I deserve to be sent from the people and to wander alone.”

“You can redeem yourself, son,” Tshaya said, squinting one eye from the smoke that trailed from her pipe. Her lips were thin and rubbery and she coughed, but her eyes were sparkling with the reflection of the fire. “We must find this Gadjo man, old Crow. He is with the Kalo Beng. Lead us to him and we will forgive your ways and deeds. These others, they are nothing to us. You have not harmed your people, if you speak true.”

Marcuso’s face was a study in mixed emotions. To Harry, he definitely looked terrified but also had a strange look of yearning. Marcuso glanced at the other men in the circle. He held his hat in his hands and sweat beaded his brow. Harry noticed that he was cleaner and didn’t smell.

“So?” Hermione asked, “What is he going to do?” She had gripped Harry’s arm and was tugging at it.

“Don’t know yet, ‘Mione, hold on,” he whispered and held his hand over hers, listening. There were words he didn’t understand. But he knew the minute that Tshaya accepted. She stood, bent and waddled over to the man. She kissed him on both cheeks and then the mouth.

“Thank you old, mother,” he whimpered. Big tears began to roll down his cheeks and he sat down in the circle.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and said, “I think you know. He’s been forgiven. Now he should tell us where we can find Severus.”

“Harry,” Ron frowned, “I know that he’s your friend and all, now, but can we call him Snape. Please just until we find him. You’ve had chance to see another side- but we haven’t!”

Harry nodded. Several men in the circle glanced up and were looking behind Harry. The three turned to glance over their shoulder. Several hundred lights, from lanterns, to wands, to candles were moving down the grassy lawn towards them. Harry looked at Hermione and Ron and they shrugged.

They stood and waited. The first to arrive were the members of Harry’s D.A. group. Then other people, those who had just discovered that he was alive. It never ceased to surprise Harry at how fast news about him traveled in school.

The group split and a smaller group assembled just out of the circle of campfires. They wore green and silver colors. Malfoy stepped into the light as did Neville Longbottom.

Neville spoke first. “We heard you were going to rescue Professor Snape, Harry. We’re going with you.” Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan nodded, as did several dozen others behind him. He continued, “If you don’t go, then…then we’ll go without you.”

Harry was astonished. This was Neville Longbottom talking, Snape’s favorite dog-to-kick. He also realized half the school was standing in front of him including the Creevey brothers and others he didn’t know. Hermione hugged Harry around the waist with one arm, tears flowing freely down her face. Harry glanced over at Ron who smiled.

“We sort of told a few people…” he said.

“A few,” Harry was breathless.

More people began to arrive, the Order of the Phoenix, almost in its’ entirety. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley walked into the camp light and joined them followed by Lupin, who looked mildly sheepish.

 

Harry couldn’t speak. Suddenly he felt a warm hand in his and looked down into Nadya’s face. He whispered, “Don’t let go, never let go.” She nodded. He turned to Malfoy, who walked in with most of the Slytherin students. “What are your intentions Draco?” The boy stood in front of him.

Harry knew that Draco probably wanted to have a fight. He’d been left by he and Snape at Malfoy Manor in a hurry the previous Christmas. Snape had put a modified memory charm on him so that they could escape. Harry received news that Draco had spent some time at St. Mungo’s, but had regained his memories. That included what most of them weren’t aware of; that he and his family were hosting Voldemort as a guest the previous Christmas.

Harry also knew that Malfoy was a neglected, lonely person whose father was going to give him up to the darkest wizard in history.

Draco looked as bad as Marcuso had minutes before. “We want our Professor Snape back,” he said.

Harry nodded, “You will have to do what I say.”

Draco nodded.

 

Dumbledore was the last to walk into the circle. Hagrid and McGonagal stood beside him. He looked at Harry and said, “It seems you have emptied my school, Mr. Potter and broken the rules again.” The camp was silent except for the crackling of fire wood and horses huffing and stamping in the dark.

“We’re going after Professor Snape, Professor,” Harry said.

“I can expel you, Harry,” Dumbledore replied.

“Then you’d better do it, Professor,” Harry said.

“You have to expel me as well,” Ron said.

“And me.” Hermione stepped up.

“And me,” Neville said.

Draco stood walked over and stood beside Neville, and said calmly, “And me.” There was a general murmuring of voices, ‘And me’, ‘Me, too’ throughout the flickering lights.

Dumbledore smiled, “Very well. Let’s go get our Professor.” He nodded at Harry. Hagrid grinned and the students crowded in.

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen



“He’ll want me,” Harry said. He crouched by the fire and a hundred bodies circled him listening. “I can be the bait. The Dark Lord’s already lost Nagini and Pettigrew.”

“He has his strongest supporters, Harry.” Lupin argued. “He will surround himself with Death Eaters. And more than anything he wants your blood. He cannot find a cure for what ails him without it.”

“Professor,” Harry turned to Dumbledore, “if he got it would it cure him?”

“No, Harry, it would not. The danger lies in the fact that he is not aware of it and he will seek to capture you for it.” Dumbledore was sitting on a log pulled up for his benefit by Hagrid. “He will be well prepared for your arrival. He has bred many creatures and he‘ll have many spells that can trap anyone trying to get in. Ask his servant.”

Harry turned to Marcuso who sat silently beside Tshaya; his frightened face illuminated by the blazing fire.

The man nodded. “I can show you where he is at, I think. But I could not tell you how to get in without being seen.” He spoke in English so that the crowd murmured behind. “He will have an army surrounding him. Jeremy Potter will not let you near him. Since the Dark Lord is not able to perform any magic he has surrounded himself with people who will protect him at all costs.” Macuso shuddered, “Jeremy still has Kaldensky with him. There is a half-mad witch, called Lestrange who is with him at all times. There are others just as deadly. You are risking all these lives for the life of one. I would not do it.”

“I seem to recall hearing those words from you before,” Harry said. He surveyed the faces around him waiting expectantly for his orders.

And then, a old warbling voice spoke up in English; it was Tshaya, “ I will tell you how to do this thing.” Harry stared at her. He didn’t know that she could speak English. He glanced at Jolie who was grinning.

“Tell us old mother,” Jolie said and held her outstretched hand which trembled with palsy.

She was looking at Dumbledore and smiling a toothless smile at him. “There is a story told to me as a child,” she said. “You have heard this story I think. Let us tell it again.” She spoke in the dark, the fire-sparks sizzling in her dark eyes. As he translated, he began to nod and smile.

When she finished, Harry stood. “Professor McGonagal, I think I’m going to need your help with this one. The members of the D.A. join up over here so I can talk to you for a minute. You’ll be apparating to the site.” Dumbledore looked at him. “Sorry Professor, but it’s my understanding Hermione and Ron have been teaching the D.A. to apparate.”

“You do realize that’s illegal Harry,” Dumbledore said. He looked over the top of his half-eyeglass and shook his head slowly, stretched his hands out to the warming fire and said,. “Of course, I suspected as much.”

Ron and Hermione took over the members of the D.A. that could apparate, and began separating people into groups.

Harry took Malfoy aside and said, “I want to talk to you before all of this starts.” They stood in the dark. “I know that you know this Draco, and I didn’t want to say anything in front of everyone, but your father’s going to be there. He’s a Death Eater and he could get killed. Or he could kill one of us. If you want to stay behind, no one will think badly of you or Crabbe or Goyle or any of the others. I’ll stand up for you if they do.” Harry was watching the pale face closely.

It was obvious Draco struggled with his feelings, “I’m going, no matter what.”

“And if you have to…to kill your father…?” Harry whispered. “Can you do that?”

“I’m going. I’ll do what I have to do to get Professor Snape away from there,” he said.
Harry nodded and turned to go. Draco grabbed his cloak, “And Potter, WE WILL settle our differences later.”

“It’ll be my pleasure, Draco,” Harry said. He walked back to the group where Ron caught him by the arm.

“Do you trust Malfoy, Harry?” Ron asked. He watched the blond haired boy talking to the group of Slytherins that stood apart from everyone else.

“I don’t know whether to trust him or not,” Harry said, “but he’s going no matter what.”

“That’s alright, Mate,” Ron said and, “I’ve got your back. See ya later.” He led the way out of camp with his group to disapparate. Hermione was behind and went with her own group. They each carried a small crate.

Dumbledore stood and waited as little by little small groups disappeared in the dark. Professor McGonagal and Hagrid were busy with the rest.

“What job do you have for me, Harry?” Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

Jolie, Gregor and Pascal were waiting for him in the wagon.

“Albus, I hope you know that I never meant for this to be…” Harry spoke softly so that the others couldn’t hear.

Dumbledore smiled, reached up and patted his arm, “Harry, it is as it should be. You are strong and capable and you lead an army of people who will follow you. Did I not say this before, the strongest weapon you have is all around you.”

“Yes, Professor, you did,” Harry said and dropped his head. “I would never have believed it- even Draco. Everyone from different Houses.” He looked into Dumbledore’s face and it looked back, full of kindness and love. “I’ll bring him back to you Albus.”

The older man smiled, “I know you will.” The old crone, Tshaya was waddling their way. “Perhaps when you return you can explain to Tshaya that I am not available,” Dumbledore winked at Harry and smiled kindly at the old lady as she spoke to him.

Harry shook his head, laughing to himself as he watched Dumbledore talk to the old woman. Harry traveled with Jolie, Gregor, Viktor and Pascal in their own special transport. The wagon seemed to move from road to road changing scenery and getting ever closer to their destination. They road in silence. Harry tried to think through the plan that had hastily been developed. Always at the back of his mind, he thought of meeting up with Jeremy Potter again.
---------------------

They arrived in the valley below Snape Manor. It was an isolated place and woods surrounded the huge mansion set high on a hill. The golden moon sat behind it and Harry thought he had never seen anything look so evil and ancient as the house on the hill. Its’ dark windows glared out like the eyes of a skull; its’ pillared entryway shone like wolves teeth glistening in the moonlight.

There were a hundred gables and chimneys that protruded from the roof. Harry stared at it as others began to apparate around him. If he had to guess, he thought, there would be several hundred rooms in the manor. There was no warmth in the grayed-out, crumbling stone walls of the house. It was encircled by a tall stone fence topped with wrought-iron black spires. Even with the moonlight, the place breathed darkness and absorbed light, enveloped by a blue-gray mist. Harry no trouble in believing the house was a possessed by a living spirit.

“Good heavens,” Hermione breathed, she was beside him. “It’s hard to believe Professor Snape ever lived there! It’s horrible.” Others gathered in the dark of the woods and waited for him to give the signal.

Harry had to agree. “It’s also huge. Ron and Hermione make sure that they go in and then report back immediately. We don’t want to have to rescue anyone else. Make sure everyone knows. Count heads if you have to.”

The two left him and gathered the others around them, speaking in whispers.

Professor McGonagal stepped up. “We’re ready. Everyone knows what they are supposed to do.”

“Go ahead then,” Harry nodded for her to proceed. They each set their individual cases they had apparated with on the ground. They were filled with the restless, scurrying furry bodies of all the transfigured students that had offered to help him retrieve Snape. One-by-one McGonagal transfigured the remaining D.A. group who apparated to the spot. They too, became scurrying mice that rushed through the gated, iron-rail entryway to the grounds and up towards the house.

Harry remained behind with Draco, McGonagal, and his gypsy family; Jolie, Viktor, Gregor and Pascal. Arthur and Molly Weasley and the other members of the Order moved away in the dark to take their positions around the outer boundary of the wall. Harry nodded at Jolie. He and Gregor, Viktor and Pascal went off into the woods. They would be building a bonfire and Harry knew that within a short time there would suddenly be a thunderstorm the likes of which the neighboring villagers would talk about for years.

Marcuso stood nearby in the dark. Harry watched him and thought, I will kill you in a heart-beat if you try and give us away.




Mice scurried through the tall tangled grasses of the grounds, through and around marshy patches until they reached the stone of the house. Here and there were openings, down into the cellars and through broken windows. The house was derelict and there were many tiny holes for the creatures to climb up and over. Through the walls and across dust covered floors they ran. The transfigured mice met their animal counterparts and were joined by at least three hundred other little souls that knew all of the animal trails throughout the vastness of the mansion. Their tiny, beady eyes and their sensitive noses followed trails in the dark.

The mice were not concerned with the enchantments that were set on doors and the coldness of the Dementors that stood watch in the shadows of the chambers, empty of furniture on the lower levels. Onyx marble hallways were lined with statues and dark mahogany cabinets with glass fronts. The glass was thick with dust and concealed the many foreboding articles within. Spiders spun their webs, their jointed legs moving eerily in the dark confines.

The mice ran through chambers that were dimly lit by moonlight, candelabras draped in webs like grotesque layered, wedding cakes stood on heavy furniture. Carpets covered in dust showed the tiny trails left by the invading army. It was all silent.

The flood of moving bodies moved from one level to another, seeking out each room, each corner, memorizing the layout of the rooms and what was in them. One mouse sat in the hole in the wall, grooming its whiskers and peering out into a room in the heart of the manor; one of few lit by candles and warmed by a fire. It observed and then turned and scurried back through the wall. Others took notice of two living figures in the bowels of the house. One was moaning in agony, the other laughing in maniacal madness as she screamed his name.

Mice scurried around the feet of two humans that walked the grounds; Death Eaters. One stopped and looked down and spoke to another, “It’s gonna take a bit of doin’ to clean this place up, idn’t, Crabbe? Look at the mice, the place is infested!”

“Aye, just stomp ‘em.” The voice was low and guttural, coming from a not so bright person. “I loik to ’ear their ‘ittle bodies go crunch.” The mice hurried away from the big boot that danced dangerously close.

Little by little, the mice gathered in groups of four and five and then into larger groups and began to exit the building the same way they arrived; back through the shadows of the overgrown vegetation and lawns to the safety of the wall and then the gate.

A wind began brewing and the trees overhead, leafless in the late Autumn night began to rustle and creak. Harry saw the first of the black billowing clouds rolling towards them with sharp shards of lightening and the low crack of thunder only a short distance away. McGonagal began the task of transfiguring the mice as they gathered at her feet. As planned, each student found their D.A. leader and transferred the information they had gathered.

Harry was impatient for the news to be brought to him. He gathered up some of the students and whispered hurried instructions, “Neville, you and Dean need to make sure all of these people get back to Hogwarts, make sure everyone is accounted for.”

Neville looked at him, “I want to be here with you Harry.”

“It’s more important that no one gets left behind Neville. I have to trust someone to do that and I trust you,” Harry said it with all of his heart.


Finally Harry, Draco and Marcuso were left alone in the dark, the moon covered by shroud-like clouds. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Ernie McMillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Fred and George, and others from the D.A. were still inside the Manor, stationed throughout the rooms.

Harry had to raise his voice to be heard above the thunder. “Are you ready?” Draco nodded. “Go ahead then Professor.”

Professor McGonagal pointed her wand and changed the three into cats; Harry a black cat with lime-green eyes, Draco a Siamese and Macuso a tawny, striped tiger. She then changed into her animagus form; a tortoise cat. The four crossed the stretch from the woods to the gate and leaped through, tails high in the air. They bypassed the legs of the two Death Eaters, Crabbe and Goyle, that had been attempting to crush mice and around the corner of the house to the cellar windows. Lightening flashed and thunder boomed as they slipped into the dark.

The black cat met a mouse and sniffed it. The mouse rose on its hind legs, its’ pink paws in an attitude of prayer and met the nose of the cat. Something seemed to transpire between the two. The cat took off and the other three followed. Through tunnels and passageways, along dirt floors until the green eyes sparkled with the light from a dim lantern. It stopped and waited for the others to catch up.

McGonagal’s figure elongated until she stood erect as her human self. With a swish the other three also transformed. Harry nodded to Draco and they both slid down the passageway until they could see the room.

Harry knew exactly who he was seeing when he looked. It was Bellatrix Lestrange dressed in ragged filthy robes of black. Her hair was wildly tangled around a bluish white face. She was laughing madly and Harry could see the insanity in her eyes. She also had a wand pointed towards Severus Snape who was chained to an iron ring embedded in the floor. He was writhing in agony, stripped to his waist with his muscles pulled taut from the spasms of her torture.

She was babbling, “Into the kettle the wizard was thrown, yelling death and murder while he lay dying, when all around the black smoke was blown and then spread wings, rose and went flying. Are you going to fly my friend, through the iron-barred window. Do you want to pick out my eyes and eat them for your dinner? Hahahah.” She screamed in laughter and then hiding her mouth behind her hand, she snickered and pointed her wand at the writhing figure at her feet.

Harry stepped into the light, his wand held up and ready. “Stop!”

She froze and stared at him; and then she recognized who it was. “You!” she whispered. She threw her wand hand back and started the incantation, but she was to slow.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” Harry shouted and the green flash from his wand enveloped her. She fell back from where she was sitting, eyes still open.

They both reached Snape at the same time. He was half-conscious and his face was covered in sweat and grim. He was stripped to the waist, his body bathed in sweat and his wrists rubbed and bleeding from the chains.

“Severus,” Harry said, ALOHAMORA, his wand tip unlocked the chain that held Snape’s hands to the iron ring. They turned him on his back and Draco held him while Harry poured a vial of fluid between his lips. Snape’s eyes opened partially as the potion took effect.

“Potter,” he whispered, “what are you doing here?” He squinted at Draco’s face above his own. “Draco?”

“Yes, Professor it’s me,” Draco said. “We’ve come to get you out of here.”

“Why?” Snape set up stiffly, holding himself steady with one hand on the floor. “Why did you come? It’s too dangerous.” He sat looking at them dully and then smirked at Harry. “Who all did you drag into this rescue attempt, Potter?”

“I see your attitude hasn’t changed, Professor, Harry said grinning. “Actually there were about two hundred initially. Most of your House- actually most of the school. But there are only about ten now. Inside.” He handed Snape the torn shirt he found laying on the ground. “I see he was kind enough to heal your back for you, but you look terrible. Can you walk?”

Snape was still looking at him, this time with a quizzical look on his face. “Two hundred?”

Draco finished for him, “Yeah, Professor McGonagal transfigured everyone into a mouse and then they scattered through the house….”

Harry interrupted him, “Can this wait? We have to get him out.”

Snape was already trying to get to his feet, “Where’s Jeremy?” Draco held one arm and Harry the other. He looked at them with some surprise, pulling his arms free. He did it with the manner of one who has just been wakened and is trying to adjust.

“We know where he is. People are keeping watch,” Harry said. He was helping him put an arm into a tattered shirt while Draco helped with the other arm.

“It’s one thing to get in Potter, it’s another to get out.” Snape was pulling on his robe that Draco handed him and seemed to be searching its’ pockets. “He made it easy. He set a trap.”

“No, Professor,” Draco laughed. “Nobody knows. All we have to do is go back the way we came. McGonagal will just transfigure all of us again. She waiting just down the hall.”

Snape paused for a moment and looked at the yellow-haired boy. “Your probably right Draco,” he said it gently, “why don’t you go ahead and catch up with McGonagal. We’ll be right behind you.” Draco’s eyes lit up with the reassurance from Snape. “And Draco, your father is somewhere on the grounds. Do NOT go near him. Understand?”

Draco nodded and seemed to pale perceptibly, “Alright,” he said, “but you’ll be just behind, right?”

Snapped nodded to him like a drunk, half staggering and then righted himself. Draco left the room through the narrow passage.

Snape searched the room and saw Bellatrix lying on the floor. He bent and took her wand from her outstretched hand. She was staring at him with a surprised look on her face. “Did you do this?” he asked Harry, who nodded. “Filthy…,” he said and rolled her roughly on her face. He stood bent, staring at her back, then turned to Harry. “Go with him.”

“Where are you going?” Harry asked. Snape had turned and was leaving, crossing the room to another door. He was barely able to walk.

“I have to take care of something,” Snape said.

Harry jumped into his path and barred the door. “You said we cannot kill him! Wait for another day.” Although Snape was taller and heavier than Harry, Harry was still able to stop him with one hand. “Besides you’re barely able to walk. What are you going to do? There are Dementors all over the place and Death Eaters all over the grounds. Draco is right, we can escape through the cellar. He’ll never know we were here until he finds you gone.” Harry pushed Snape in the chest and Snape’s wand came up.

“Potter!” Snape hissed, pointing it at Harry’s face. “I will use this.” There was a mad glint in his eye.

“Severus,” Harry pushed the wand to the side. “I’m not Jeremy, I’m Harry.”

“Harry… Mr. Potter,” Snape squinted through his hair, dripping with sweat. “What are you doing here?”

“Professor…” Harry began. Before he could finish Snape was out the door and moving down the long corridor in the dark. All Harry could do was follow blindly behind him, gritting his teeth in frustration. They were heading into the house. Every step they took could expose them to the many things that Harry and the others had avoided by being transfigured. Harry wasn’t sure Snape was even in his right mind, and they were moving ever faster away from the safety of the people who could be the most help.

They climbed stairs and entered a series of hallways. Harry could barely keep up.

What are you doing? He wondered as he tried to stay on the tail of the man. Your walking right to him!

“Professor!” Harry whispered. He felt like shouting it. “Stop, please stop.”

Snape turned, a ray of moonlight pierced the stained glass window in the large, tiled hall and lit his face with a greenish tint. “What? Who are you? Why are you following me?” They stood near the large entryway stairs that led to other floors. It resembled and elegant mausoleum made even more macabre by the brilliant flashes of lightening and the thunder.

Harry felt fear rising in his chest. Suddenly he knew; he had possessed Snape’s mind for a moment when they traveled through Dumbledore’s mind while he was cocooned. Harry knew that Snape thought he was home, in a time, almost forgotten. Harry knew he was going after his father, to protect his mother. Harry could almost see the eighteen year old Snape in front of him. Even Snape’s voice had changed.

“Severus,” Harry reached for him, “you can’t go. Stay with me.” He gently pulled at Snape’s robes. “We have to go back this way.”

“He’s going to kill her, I have to save her!” Snape was frantic and his voice was growing louder.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he knew he had to do it soon, even if it meant stunning the man. The sound was vibrating through the house, echoing in the large foyer. He hope that the thunder was drowning the noise. It was more frequent, shattering the calm with peal after peal. Harry did the only thing he could think of at the moment, he slapped Snape as hard as he could in the face just as a clap of lightening struck. The sounds melted together.

Snape’s head snapped back and he wilted down to the floor, his head bent. Harry had hold of him by the back of the robes. He looked up, blood trickling from his bruised mouth, “What the devil did you do that for, Potter! And why are you here.”

Harry saw lucidity enter Snape’s face.

Chapter 15




“Yes, indeed!” A voice rang in the darkness. “What are you doing here?” Jeremy Potter descended the grand staircase. Standing in the dark behind him were several large figures. Harry thought it likely that Kaldensky was somewhere nearby, keeping hidden. One person he recognized immediately was Marcuso.

“You slimy….,” Harry raised his wand. Marcuso raised his hand, palm outward and mumbled something. Lightening shot from his hand and threw Harry across the room. He skidded on his back for several feet before stopping. His clothes smoked from the heat of the lightening. Harry was aware that Marcuso had done something that Jolie had told him about at one time- he had ‘thrown the lightening’.

Snape rose from the floor and watched Harry gasp for breath. He then turned to Jeremy Potter. Jeremy circled the large room, his eyes glittering cold like that of a serpent. Harry thought he had the eyes of a ‘fascinator’.

“The curtain is about to fall gentlemen,” he said. “I have had just about enough of both of you. I really don’t need you Snape. You provided a little fun for Lestrange and now I see you’ve ‘done her in’, as the locals like to say. I thought to use you in the ‘reversal charm’ but our Master’s faithful followers are becoming rather sparse of late. He’s not going to like it that you killed her.”

Jeremy moved around the room slowly, examining the statuary that lined the foyer. Tall windows flashed with lightening and a gale wind whistled through the cathedral ceiling. He was dressed in a dark suit, with a spotless white shirt and a robe that trailed the floor. He held a wand lazily in his hand.

“You cannot reverse the spell without Severus,” Harry said. He slowly rose to his feet and was talking to stall for time. The front door to the veranda was feet away. He thought that at least one of the people hidden around the Manor would stumble on the scene. Not even the Dementors that were standing watch at various parts of the house had shown up in the large Hall.

“Not true, Mr. Potter, “ Jeremy said, “or should I call you- son?”

“My mother loved Severus,” Harry shouted above the roar of the wind and the thunder. “The spell was binding because of it. We did it together.” Snape glanced at him, his eyes clear. “Clearly, I am not your son,” Harry said scathingly, “but he is.” Harry looked at Snape and began to edge towards him. Snape was standing bent over slightly, still in pain from the torture he had endured.

Jeremy laughed softly, “Yes.” He twirled the wand. “Bloody brilliant thing to do. The Master was very clever. However, my SON is a small disappointment to me, I must confess,” Potter sat down in a red velvet chair that looked almost black in the light. Snape still had his wand in his hand although it was pointed to the floor.

Harry was edging closer to Snape, hoping that his Potion's Master was himself, hoping that he knew what was happening. They had very little chance to escape. They were probably going to die, but he needed Snape’s help. The only hope that remained was that there were three people besides himself and Snape in the room; two against three.

“Our Master will be here shortly in case you were considering attempting to leave.” Jeremy’s voice was filled with sarcasm. “Not that you’d get very far. There are at least twenty Death Eaters outside and a few little surprises inside.” The white teeth suddenly glimmered in the half light. “I must say, Potter, I am intrigued about how you managed to get in. I shall be only too interested in the answers as you scream them out with your last breath. Our Master does like a good time, you know,” he said and chuckled in the dark.

He stood and circled a statute made of black marble, stroking it with his hands. “You must care for our friend Severus very much to put your life at risk so often for him. Not that I mind your putting yourself so easily into my hands.” He strolled to the next statue in line with the others. His voice was mellow and low, “It’s very strange that you feel that way, unless you weren’t aware…” he draped himself against the statute.

Snape stood erect. “That’s enough!” his baritone voice rang out followed by a clap of thunder for emphasis.

Potter laughed, “He’s not aware… he doesn’t know! How very rich. Oh this is fun. We will have many hours to teach you about your Professor’s life.” The voice was contemptuous. “How he had an affair with that seedy little tramp you call your mother. How many men was she with Severus, a hundred…more? Whose to say whose son you are, Harry. Perhaps Severus can say. Did you have a good time with her too?”

“That’s a lie,” Harry shouted. He was now standing shoulder to shoulder with Snape. His wand was up and pointed at Jeremy.

“Is it?” Potter stepped away from the statute and into the dim light. “I should know. You see I carry his memories inside me. I am the sum of two you might say.” Potter opened wide his arms.

“Harry,” it was Snape. He spoke very quietly and gently, “He is the master of lies. Don’t believe or listen to what he tells you.”

Suddenly for the first time in months Harry suddenly felt his scar burning. Voldemort had not been aware of his existence, thought he had actually killed Harry up until a short time ago. Now he was aware, very aware and he was coming. It was almost like second nature for Harry to reach for the scar.

Potter noticed and laughed. “I see you are aware that he is coming. Very useful, that scar, isn’t it.”

“How….how did you know?” Harry asked, bending slightly hoping the blinding pain would ease and knowing it wouldn’t.

“Oh we have known for a long time,” Potter said.

Snape glanced at him. They were shoulder to shoulder. “Is it true? Is he coming?” he whispered. Potter was walking around the room again caressing the different statuary and talking. Snape used the opportunity to speak to Harry when he saw him nod in affirmation. “You must turn and look me in the eyes right now.” Harry raised his head and looked up into Snape’s face. “LEGILIMENS.”

Harry hadn’t been expecting it. He felt the same warm heated spinning he’d experienced before when they both entered Dumbledore’s mind when he was cocooned. Now Harry was whirling in synchronization with Snape. Harry heard Snape’s voice say, “It was the only way.”

They floated in a gauzy white-ish cloud and Snape walked towards him, mist swirling around them. He looked rather strange to Harry, all dressed in black amidst the white background. He spoke but his mouth did not move. “Harry, he would have ripped your mind apart to find out what you know. This way I can protect you. Do not speak to him no matter what happens.”

Harry nodded and seemed to move with Snape through his memories, once again sharing a connection, a common thread. Harry could see and feel Snape’s memories and the emotions that went with them. Harry saw himself starting school at Hogwarts, standing in line waiting to be sorted and at the same time staring down at himself from inside Snape’s mind. The scenery changed and it was Snape standing in line waiting to be sorted and two boys making cheeky remarks to him; one was James Potter, the other Sirius Black.

“So it goes back that far,” He thought to himself and was answered.

“Yes, it went back that far.” Snape’s voice drifted somewhere at the back of his head.

Memories seem to melt together, as did time and people. It was a blur to Harry who felt that sickening spin in the pit of his ethereal stomach. They were at Hogwarts and Snape was a teenager, sitting alone in the garden courtyard. He looked shaken and upset. A girl approached him from behind. Harry recognized his mother. He had seen her in Snape’s memories before, when James and Sirius were taunting him. To Harry it felt like this scene was not long after that event. Snape’s otherworldly voice was speaking to him. “Don’t watch, don’t listen.” But it was very faint and Harry was drawn to the scene by his mother.

Lily approached the sitting teen and touched him gently on the shoulder. He didn’t move. It was clear that he knew she was near. “Severus,” she said gently, “you shouldn’t let them do that to you. One of these days you’ll have to stand up for yourself. You’re a really wonderful wizard and you can make them stop.” Harry knew she was talking about his father and Sirius’ bullying.

The young Severus didn’t look up. He shook his bent head and studied the ground. “It’s not that Lily,” he said his voice quivering. “It’s that…you saw them and…and, I said something terrible to you. It‘s not how I feel.”

The young girl dropped down on the stone seat beside him and took his hand. “I know, it’s okay. I know what happened Severus, it’s ok.” She tried to get eye contact and he was refusing her. And then she lifted his head with her fingers under his chin and looked at him. His face was a study in agony and pain. Harry’s heart raced as he looked at the teenage boy and felt all of the pain he was experiencing. Lily smiled and leaned in and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Harry experienced a jolt of shock and wonder. Then she gave him a quick hug and stood. “When will you learn,” she said.

The memory faded and Harry and Snape moved on into other blinding, speeding memories. When Harry thought he was lost he realized he was suddenly standing in a dark room, lit by a single candelabra and Snape stood beside him. They were still connected and Snape looked at him and thought, “He has come. This will be terrible, for he will reach in with tiger claws.”

Standing before them was Voldemort, a wretched figure of a man. Harry remembered the desecrated man who had taken this form in the cemetery the night he had regained his human body and the night Pettigrew killed Cedric Diggory. Harry had seen him briefly once again in the Hall at the Department of Mysteries and again briefly at the Fair grounds in Godric’s Hollow.

The man was a torn and tattered remnant of a human being. His face was pocked with unhealed sores and his eyes burned red with anger and evil. His nose was half-eaten and there were no lips visible only the hollow cheekbones of a skeleton. His teeth were yellow and sharp. And he laughed. Although Harry did not hear the sound come from his throat or mouth but through his mind, it felt like a white-hot iron searing through his brain.

“What have we here,” he said, delightedly. “Very clever of you, Severus. I cannot kill your physical body without killing the boy, too. But we shall see. I want to know how to rid myself of this curse the two of you have conjured. And I will know of it or you shall suffer unspeakable pain.” The figure slowly moved around the nondescript room. “I will hear of the prophecy- the full extent of it, as well.” He grinned a horrible sickly grin before pointing a finger at Harry’s heart. “LEGILIMENS!” he said in a gravelly, cold screech.

Snape stepped in front of Harry and cried out immediately. Harry could feel and hear the pain that Snape experienced as Voldemort raped his mind; but Harry himself was buffered by Snape’s mind. Voldemort probed with mental fingers, searching Snape’s memories.

“Agh!” Voldemort withdrew and seethed in fury. “You know Severus that you cannot protect him forever. I will destroy your mind. You will be a babbling lunatic before I am finished.” Voldemort stepped back and then said, “Tell me what I wish to know and return to me as my servant. I will give you a place next to me. I will forgive you.” The mental voice of Voldemort softened and was now beguiling and charming.

Harry was entwined in Snape’s mind, alone with him for the moment. He focused his mind trying to reach the one that was standing shuddering with him. “Don’t do it Severus.”

“Harry, he will break me in the end and he will enter your mind,” Severus’ said his mental voice shaking. “All is lost.”

Harry struggled. He knew that if Snape was not guarding him that Voldemort would reach into his mind immediately and it would feel ten times worse then it did watching Snape absorb it.

“Severus,” Harry forced the thought towards the man beside him bent in agony. “Severus, she did care about you. It wasn’t a lie. My mother did love you.” He sent the message with all of his strength.

Snape didn’t move, but Harry sensed the words reaching the man. The room grew lighter, the edges softened. A warm, sweet breeze seemed to reach Harry’s nose. It was the garden.

“Yes, that’s it. Remember, feel her touch you,” Harry sent the thought.

Voldemort realizing that something was happening reached out his hand to probe again. This time Snape’s screams were deafening. He was reliving in minute detail his most horrific memories. Harry saw the flow of memories like a gushing wound. Snape’s son being born and his death, Snape’s wife dying in agony, his father abusing and then in the act of murdering his mother and Snape walking in on it and murdering his father. Each tender and horrendous pain probed and picked apart and reviewed by the Master of Agony.

“Stop it!” he shouted, “Stop, your killing him!” Harry looked at his mental partner who was now on his knees and moaning. Harry knew they had seconds before Snape collapsed altogether. He formed an image, as he had many times before, in the same way he had performed the Patronus Charm. He thought of his mother, his long dead mother, standing in the ruins of her home. She was looking at both of them, the look of happiness on her face. “PROTEGO!” He shouted feeling his mind sending forth the charm before darkness closed in.


He had done it! Harry once again found his feet firmly planted on the black marble tile of the foyer and Snape standing beside him as lightening cracked so loudly he was deafened and could not hear what was being said to him.

On the stairs, almost in total darkness, stood Voldemort. Standing beside him, hands folded neatly in front of him was Jeremy Potter and kneeling at Voldemort’s feet was the Gypsy, Marcuso. He had a look of surprise on his face.

Harry could feel Snape weaving unsteadily beside him but didn’t chance to look in his face. I’ve done it! he thought to himself. I pushed him out of our minds. Harry looked up into Voldemort’s face almost hidden in darkness. A flash of lightening revealed the same evil, skull-like face. He could tell Voldemort was furious.

“Kill them both,” he commanded Potter. “I want them to suffer.”

“Lord,” Potter stepped down and knelt in front of the dark figure, “let us perform the Reversal spell and then I will kill them with pleasure.”

“It cannot be done here,” Voldemort said. “We must return to Godric’s Hollow.”

It was at that instant that Marcuso looked over his shoulder at Harry and nodded slightly. As he rolled to one side, Harry raised his arm, his hand up and palm outward and ‘threw the lightening’.

“Drop your wand!” he shouted at Potter.

Suddenly people began to appear in the doorways growing from long shadows into the dark. Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagal, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Fred and George, Bill Weasley, Hermione and Ron. At the other end; the members of the D.A., Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillan, Seamus Finnigan, Cho Chang, the Creevey brothers, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Lavender Brown and Neville Longbottom. There were others slipping out of the shadows; Nymphadora Tonks and Dumbledore.

Voldemort vanished in an instant. Suddenly dozens of wands were being lit and the room was illuminated with a bluish glow.

“Harry!” Potter said, stepping back when he found himself alone. He waved his wand in a slow circumference around the room. “Son?” Harry saw the look in the eyes change, it softened and glowed. “Harry?” He could see something there and for a minute, he could feel his father’s presence. And then it was gone, as if the ugly malignant force snuffed it out.

Harry raised his arm, his hand up and palm outward and threw the lightening.

“Harry, NO! You cannot kill him!” Snape swung around in front of him just as the spell was cast. The white-hot light hit him in the chest. His arms were flung out and he looked at his chest with surprise and then flew back and slid on his back to Jeremy Potter’s feet.

Harry looked up and the last thing he saw was Dumbledore sending his own beam of green light at Jeremy Potter who died with a look of surprise on his face; still staring down at Snape’s lifeless body at his feet.

Thirty people watched as Harry went over to Snape and dropped to his knees. He lifted Snape’s head and cradled it in his arms breaking into sobs. “No!” he sobbed, “You’re not dead. I won’t let you die! Wake up!”

Dumbledore walked over slowly and knelt beside him; his own face was ashen. His trembling hand took Snape’s.

“Albus, I’ve killed him!” Harry sobbed.

Chapter Sixteen




“Potter would you let go of me,” the voice was muffled. Harry held Snape against his chest, tears dropping onto the black hair.

“What?” Harry let go and Snape’s head dropped to Harry’s lap. “You’re alive! How?”

Snape lay looking up at him as droplets sprinkled his face. He was frowning. “Miss. Granger’s time-stopper, Mr. Potter; I turned it.” He glanced up past Harry and saw Hermione, “I think you may have some difficulty in explaining how you came by it Miss. Granger.”

Harry laughed in astonishment and looked over at Dumbledore who had Snape’s hand in his own. Snape was looking into the old man’s face. Something happened between them and Harry saw Snape smile very quickly at Dumbledore before he helped Snape to his feet.

“It’s alright Severus, I’ve got you.” Dumbledore held the unsteady man.

Harry looked around at the people standing in the hall. Lupin broke in, “Everyone break up into threes and search this place.” he ordered. “Find the vampire and any others.” The crowd dispersed leaving he and Ron and Hermione with Snape and Dumbledore.

Ron and Hermione led Harry to the steps to sit down. Marcuso was sitting on a step, leaning against the rail. He looked at Harry and bowed slightly. Harry nodded back.

“Harry,” Hermione was looking at Jeremy Potter. “Is that…is that your father?”

Harry glanced over. “No, no it isn’t. Not anymore.”
------------------------------------




Harry had missed almost a month of school. He would be taking his N.E.W.T.S. in the Spring and hadn’t looked at a book or practiced a spell. He spent time with Hermione and Ron and avoided being cornered by anyone wanting to learn all about his ‘adventures’. Since arriving back at Hogwarts he’d been given a warm welcome by most of the staff and students. He had deliberately avoided meeting with Snape.

Harry thought it felt strange to be in school after his trip through Knockturn Alley and his meeting once again with Voldemort. It felt good but did not lift his mood. He wasn’t sure if there was anything that would take away the feelings and memories he had carried away with him that night in Snape Manor.

It was now Halloween and he was finishing up the second to the last class for the day. He was loaded down with books and parchment and homework, trailing behind Ron and Hermione. A dark shape flew in through an open corridor window and Harry knew immediately who it was. “Dante!” he said. The raven, as usual, landed some feet away and walked up to him.

“Have you brought me mail?” Harry asked in Romani. “Mande an! (give it to me). He shouted when the bird went waddling off down the hall. It avoided other students and
Headed for the main entrance. Ron and Hermione joined him in the chase. “Dante!”

“Mail deliver, Balo (swine), mail deliver.” Dante ran through the double wide front doors and out into the courtyard. Harry was fast behind him, parchment and books dropping from his arms. The bird stopped and Harry slid to his knees and then down on his belly as he grabbed the bird.

“CAW, CAW” Dante screamed flapping his wings.

“I’ve got you, you stupid bird!” he shouted and then he heard it. The sound of a fiddle playing, and then a tambourine. He glanced up shoving his glasses to his face. Hermione and Ron stood next to him. Coming into the courtyard were dozens of bare feet and swishing colorful skirts. The ankles of the women glittered with gold bracelets and they were dancing and singing. The Vardo Gypsies were at Hogwarts.

Harry saw Nadya at the front and above her on stilts was Gregor and Viktor. Jolie was playing his fiddle and Pascal the tambourine. She walked over to him and looked down at him laughing. “What are you doing, my love?” she asked in her language. Dante flew up when Harry let go and landed on her shoulder.

Harry slowly rose to his feet, “Why are you here, Nadya?”

She pouted and put her hands on her hips. Somehow Hermione understood the gesture and she put a hand on Harry’s back and pushed him forward. “For goodness sake, Harry. She’s come all this way to see you. Is that how you treat your wife?”

Harry took her hand, “I am honored that you come and happy to see you.” He knew that to show affection was inappropriate, but he desperately wanted to hold her.

Ron stepped in and said, “Go on mate, go for a walk and we’ll take care of this.” He was grinning. Harry pulled Nadya from the group and ran from the castle.


Later, the celebration was in full swing. The Great Hall was decorated with pumpkins the size of Hagrid’s hut, the tables were filled with delicious platters and the Romani were playing music and dancing in the aisle. Dozens of students were dancing along with them and in the center was Dumbledore. A trapeze was strung from the ceiling and the trapeze artists were swinging over the heads of the students.

Harry was showing his friends how to mount the stilts and maneuver them using only the straps attached to his thighs. After awhile he turned them over to Ginny Weasley and Dennis Creevey. He was enjoying himself and laughing at their squeals of terror as they careened around the hall.

He realized that his moments of delight were punctuated by melancholy only when he looked at the staff table and saw that Snape was missing. All of the other teachers were either on the floor enjoying or involved in the dancing or were mingling with the students. Harry had not seen him since returning to Hogwarts several days before. Snape had been taken to Madam Pomphrey in the hospital wing.

“Professor McGonagal,” Harry stopped the woman whose hair had come lose from her bun as she danced in a circle, arms linked to others.

“Oh Potter, hello. Wonderful party,” she said out of breath.

“Yes it is,” Harry nodded. “Where is Professor Snape? Is he still in hospital?”

“Oh no,” she answered. “I imagine he’s in his rooms, Potter. Not his kind of thing, you know.” She waved at him and was pulled back into the dancers.

Harry looked around and slipped from the Hall. The corridors were empty as was the steps down to the dungeons. Since returning to Hogwarts, Harry had taken his old bed in Griffindor tower and was no longer staying in Slytherin. But he knew the way to Snape’s quarters, they were next to Slytherin’s. He tapped on the door and a voice called out.

“Who is it?” it was Snape’s.

“It’s Harry.”

The door opened and Snape peered out. “What is it Potter?”

“Well, Severus…” Harry looked at the man who had the very familiar sneer etched across it. “Professor. I didn’t see you in the Great Hall and wondered if you were alright.”

“Do I not look alright, Mr. Potter?” Snape’s eyebrow rose.

Harry could feel the old familiar anger rising up. “May I come in?” he asked.

Snape turned and left the door open. He had a book in his hand and returned to his seat before the fire. “What is it Mr. Potter?”

Harry stood, feeling uncomfortable at Snape’s formality. “I never had a chance to thank you, Sever…” Snape scowled.

“There are very few things in life that I truly consider I deserve respect for, Mr. Potter. But I do think I have earned the right to be called Professor.”

“Alright Professor,” Harry said, and continued, “I wanted to thank you for protecting me from… Him. And for other things. I thought that since we have shared so much that we could be friends.”

Snape stood and laid his book on the mantle and turned to Harry, “That’s not wise, Mr. Potter.”

“Very well,” Harry turned away angry and embarrassed.

“Mr. Potter…Harry stop for a moment.” Snape said it gently. He turned back and Snape leaned against the mantel folding his hands together. “You take too many risks. Now you know everything there is to know. There is nothing else being kept from you, so you can now make informed decisions. What you did this summer was foolish. You put yourself in the heart of it all without thought to what would happen if you died. Because you’re friends care about you they are willing to risk themselves, too. Is that fair to them? Is it not better to not make friends. You know the task that lays before you. I have found it best to perform that task in a solitary way; it’s safer for me and for everyone around me.” Harry started to interrupt and Snape held up his hand. “May I remind you that we, you and I, are now hunted people. We have effectively taken away His closest and strongest allies. You saw him; he is weak and very angry. Each step you take now you must consider carefully. If you fall; then we all fall.” Snape was looking at him with brooding eyes.

“I don’t agree with everything you’ve said, Professor. My friend Ron once said that it is their war too. They have a right to decide to put themselves at risk. We would not have survived if the people in this school had not come to our rescue. Professor, they went to that house to help you… because they cared about you.” Harry emphasized, frustrated at the expression he saw on Snape’s face. “Professor, I don’t want to go through life alone. I don’t want to have to deny my feelings for others. If there is a chance at happiness then I‘m not going to throw it away.”

“You mean you don’t want to be like me,” Snape said bitingly.

“Yes,” Harry said standing firm, “I don’t want to be like you! I was in your mind, I saw your memories. My mother did care about you. I don’t know if she loved you but she reached out a hand, she was kind and she did care. Who knows if she could have been a friend or something else but you never took the chance and you’ve regretted it ever since… you’ve been bitter…”

“Enough!” Snape straightened and was glaring, “You will not speak of this again!”

“Why because you’re afraid?” Harry was shouting too. “She was my mother! Before that she was a young girl not older than I am now. I know she loved my father- I know it with all my heart and I never doubted her, not even when Jeremy insinuated that she was something other. Do you know how hard it was for me to hear that?” Harry walked closer and lowered his voice, “And I don’t believe that she abandoned you as a friend on purpose. You pushed her away just like you do everyone. Is it so hard for you to look beyond my face and see me as a person. I am not James Potter. I am not the one that hurt you! He didn‘t steal her away from you, you let her go.”

“I may die Snape, but I will die knowing that I have friends. I came here tonight because I thought you might need a friend. Someone who could comfort you. Because we both stood there Severus, watched our fathers die one more time! But I see that I was wrong. You don’t need anyone, do you?” He kept speaking although Snape was turning a shade of red that resembled a blood stain. “She tried a long time didn’t she?” Harry shook his head, “I’m not going to make the same mistake, Professor.” He turned and headed for the door.

“If this is about pitying me…” Snape roared.
Harry turned and smiled, “Actually, I’m not feeling pity for you at all, Professor. I came here tonight because I thought I had a lot to learn from you. That you could help me in a way that no other could. Now I realize that there is something very important that I know and you could never teach. I’m happy because I just realized that I can never be like you.” Harry spun on his heel and left the room. The smile that was on his face minutes before disappeared. He returned to the Great Hall where his wife found him. Seeing the look on his face she pulled him into the dark and wrapped her arms around him.



Later, Nadya found Draco, the one she called ‘the young old man’ because of his white hair.

“You, Mr.,” she said in broken English. “Bring me to the Snape man, yes?” she asked.

He looked her over and snickered, “You’re Potter’s wife aren’t you. A Gypsy. Don’t speak English do you?” He laughed and Pansy who stood next to him giggled too. ‘Wanna dance with me?” He grabbed her around the waist, while she struggled to break free.

“Get off you pig!” she said in Romani. “I will hex you and you will walk like a frog all your days.”

“I think she means it,” a voice said from the shadows of the corridor. Snape stepped into the light and Draco let Nadya go.

“She intends to turn you into a frog Mr. Malfoy,” Snape advanced. “I think you owe Mrs. Potter an apology.

Draco looked at Snape and then at Nadya. “Sorry.” He hurried away with his companions.

“Uncle,” Nadya began, “I speak to you, yes?” She stared up at him, her head barely reaching his chest.

He nodded and led the way back down the corridor and into the dungeons. She followed in her bare feet and gazed at her surroundings as she went. He opened the doors to his quarters. She stopped and peered in, hesitant.

“I will not harm you,” he said and motioned for her to enter.

He closed the door and stood waiting as she circled the room, her hand touching things as she went. “HmmmHm,” Snape cleared his throat.

“Ah Uncle,” she began.”

“I am not your Uncle Nadya,” Snape said in her language.

“She shook her head vigorously, “Yes, Uncle you are. I come to you for your help. You are family and I have no other. Harry does not know I speak to you and he must not know. Va?” She was frowning and speaking quickly.

“Nadya, you must speak slowly. I don’t understand you,” Snape said gently.

“Yes, I see,” she nodded and sat on the sofa without invitation. Snape crossed the room and sat in a chair facing her.

“What do you need, Nadya?” he asked. The room was lit by the fire and the light lit her face as she gazed into it and then looked up at him. “It is not like your people to let you be alone.”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “My Harry, he will need your help. He is a young man and does not know his heart as an old man does. He trusts you, Uncle. He faces this horrible Devil, the Black One-Kalo Beng and he is afraid,” she clasped her hands under her chin and rested them on her knees. “He would never tell that to anyone, but I know it. He comes to you tonight for your help, but I see him come back and his heart is broken. Why is that? You cannot help him or he could not ask?” she asked.

Snape sat quietly, “I don’t know if I can Nadya.” The muscle in his jaw was working and he sat gripping the arms of the chair.

She nodded slowly, “Cannot?” Her eyes burned brightly and tears filled her eyes threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Men!,” She said it like a pronouncement, “Pride always is in the way. Harry is a proud man, too. Until this storm is over and this Devil is gone, he suffers. I know that he must kill the Kalo Beng.”

“He told you that?” Snape asked, frowning.

“I know many things that are not spoken,” she said. “We Romani women are very wise in these things. He does not tell me, but I know.” She shrugged her shoulders, “He must not feel alone in this. We cannot do this for him but we can stand by him and he will find the courage that is needed.” She stood and approached Snape. He looked at her as she gently took his hand and knelt at his feet. “Do it for the mother that gave birth to you, for the woman who looked at the moon sailing across the sea of stars and wept tears of sadness for you.” She placed her smooth cheek against his hand and wet it with her tears. “Do it for the son that I carry so he will have a father. I will keep you in my heart always. I will tear my clothes, pull out my hair at your death and mourn your passing. Do this so that when I am old and gray I can tell the story of the man who stood, his fist to the sky and swore an oath.”

“Romani women are very wise Nadya,” Snape said.

Chapter 17


Harry examined the contents of his cauldron and examined his notes. Eight other people were in the classroom besides him. They were in the last year of the advanced Potions class and Snape was roaming the room, as always, peering into each cauldron as ingredients were added.

He passed Hermione’s cauldron and rather than looking in and moving on, he commented, “Very good Miss Granger.” She stopped what she was doing and watched him walk away, her hand suspended over the bubbling pot. She was so astonished that she almost forgot to add the last ingredient at the last moment. Harry glanced over and then back at his own. He was trying to keep from looking at his Potions master. He was concentrating so hard that he almost slipped and dropped a vial when the deep voice spoke behind him.

“Yes, Mr. Potter, that is the correct way to add the morning glory seed. Be sure and stir the lionfish scale in slowly. You have a great deal to catch up on since you have been absent. See me after class so we can discuss additional study time.” And that was it. Snape moved on to another student.

After class the rest hurried and cleaned up and left the classroom. Hermione nodded at Harry knowing they would discuss it later on in the common room when Ron could join them.

The classroom felt very strange as Harry sat his cauldron on a shelf and packed his book away. Snape was at his tall secretary, his head bent over his writing. Harry stood without moving waiting for him. There was deafening silence for a few minutes and he was about to leave when the head lifted.

“Come forward, Mr. Potter.” Snape rose and joined him in the middle of the room. “I think that perhaps it would be wise if we work together for the rest of the year. I will arrange time for you to join me and we will begin your instruction with occlumency.”

“Why?” was all that Harry could think to say.

Snape’s eyebrow raised and he sat down at one of the student’s desks and waved for Harry to do the same. “You were lucky in throwing Him from your mind this last time. It will not be so easy if you meet again. You also lack skills in other areas; stealth and tracking for a start. It seems that if you pursue your current path you will find some of these skills necessary. ”

“And you will teach me these things, sir?” Harry asked. He was being as formal as Snape had been the night before.

“I don’t expect to have to go and fetch Mr. Moody and Mr. Shacklebolt by myself,” Snape said. “You seem keen on rescuing people, I thought perhaps it would be wise to have some assistance.”

“Professor,” Harry was serious, “do you think they are still alive?”

“Yes, I do,” Snape answered. He folded his hands in a familiar way and studied the desk top. “We will have some planning and work to do in order to reach them, but He has kept them alive.” Snape looked Harry in the eye. “We should start soon. There are many things that you should know. Tomorrow evening at eight would be best.”

Harry nodded, “Thank you, Professor.” He was about to turn and leave.

“Harry,” Snape’s voice was low and almost inaudible, “I’m sorry you had to kill Lestrange. It was inevitable that you would kill someone. Truthfully; better her than others. I have not thanked you for saving my life.” Snape rose and turned away. “Tomorrow evening then.”

Harry left the room.


In another part of the castle two young women stood in the courtyard; Hermione and Nadya. Nadya was waiting for Harry so that she could say goodbye. The Romani wagons were already leaving the grounds and disappearing into the dusky afternoon sun. There was a layer of snow on the ground that had not melted. It was almost winter and the camp would disperse and wait for spring. Nadya was going with them.

She stood looking at the ground, her shawl pulled around her shoulders. Hermione was taller and was dressed in her school robes. The two were trying to communicate.

“Harry…” Nadya said and twisted her fingers together pointing at Hermione. Her head came up and the black curly hair blew with the slight breeze. She pulled the wrap tighter around her small shoulders.

“Yes, Nadya, friends,” Hermione said trying to reassure the girl. “We have been friends for many years.” Hermione understood what was on the other girl’s mind. Nadya was jealous and worried.

“He held your hand,” Nadya said in Romani and mimicked the hand holding. “This Gadjo way.”

“Yes, but we are friends,” Hermione emphasized the word.

“Friends, va,” Nadya nodded. “Harry, safe”

“Yes, I will try and keep him safe,” Hermione said. She wrinkled her brow and stepped forward taking Nadya’s hand. “Safe.” She placed it over her heart and closed her eyes. The dark-eyed girl seemed to understand.

Nadya took Hermione’s hand and placed it on her stomach, “Kuzuy (baby).” She then mewed like an infant and rocked her arms together.

Hermione’s eyes widened as she watched the pantomime. “Kuzuy… kuzuy,” she repeated and frowned. “Baby? Are you saying you’re going to have a baby?” She rocked her own arms and cried softly like a baby.

Nadya stood straight and stared Hermione in the face, “Va.”

“Va!…Va!” Hermione grinned and danced around in a circle. Nadya smiled. “A baby!” She stopped and bent to look into Nadya’s face. “Does Harry know?”

“Va, Harry,” Nadya rubbed her belly.

Hermione was frustrated, she knew Nadya didn’t understand. She was searching for a way to communicate and she was rubbing her head with her hand when Nadya took it away from her forehead and placed it on her own. She then shook her head and the dark eyes widened. She shook her head vigorously.

“Oh, Merlin’s beard, he doesn’t know,” Hermione said, still holding her hand in the air after Nadya let go. “Are you going to tell him?” she questioned by putting her hand to her mouth and speaking.

Nadya watched and understood, “Na (no).” She rocked her arms and then shook her head.

“Oh Nadya, why not?” Hermione took the girl by the arm and they sat on the cold stone bench out of the wind. “He needs to know.”

Nadya frowned, shook her head and then put the palms of her hands to her cheek and moaned, looking worried. She then pointed a finger at Hermione, “Harry, safe.”

Hermione nodded, “I’ll watch out for him and I won’t tell.” She looked at the girl whose face studied hers.

Harry came around the corner and smiled at them quizzically. “Hey, Hermione.”

“Hi, Harry,” Hermione answered. She continued to stare at Nadya who looked at her with frightened eyes for a moment.

“What are you two up to?” he asked.

“Just getting to know one another,” Hermione said. “I’ll leave you two alone. Are you coming to the common room when you’re done?”

“Yeah, be there soon,” Harry was saying as Nadya talked to him. “What Nadya? Hermione wait a second.” The young girl kept speaking for a minute. “Hermione, Nadya says that she asked you for a favor and she’s not sure you understood. She says she wants you to swear that you’ll do it.” Harry looked over at Hermione, his eyes narrowing. “What did she ask you to do?”

“It was nothing, Harry,” Hermione said nonchalantly but stared at Nadya. “She just wants me to watch out over you. Not that I’m very good at it.”

Nadya kept speaking and he translated while she spoke, “She says you have to swear, say the words ‘ha sovel’ , it means; ‘I swear‘.” Harry nodded to her and once again turned to Hermione, “Be careful ’Mione, if you swear; it’s like writing it in blood to her people.”

Hermione looked at Nadya, and answered very seriously, “Ha sovel.” She gave Harry a quick smile and turned and left them. The dark eyes followed her.

“Nadya, what was that about?” Harry asked in her tongue.

“I will be away for a long time and I am worried about you,” she answered. “Hermione is a woman. She knows men and will send word if you are not taking care of yourself. She is a good friend,” Nadya said and smiled at him.

He laughed, “I think that worries me.”

They walked to the last of the wagons pulling out from the little valley. Harry watched as Katlana’s wagon pulled out. Nadya hung around the edge of the seat to wave at him until they could no longer see one another.


Somewhere along the ridge of a hill a figure stood watching the small group of wagons rolling through the trees and the boy dressed in Hogwarts robes waving goodbye. When the boy turned and walked back up to the castle the figure also turned and disappeared into the shadows of the trees.





The Tale Now be Told in Full


Thank you for all of your reviews and comments.
Natasha