The woman ignored his demand as she shielded her son with her body and sat him in his bed. She then stood firmly in front of the crib. Her only thought was for the safety of her child, “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-“
The man’s only response was a wicked sneer. He then moved even further into the room blocking the only exit.
“Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…” The mother’s pleas were becoming desperate now, but she stood her ground.
The man simply laughed at the woman’s pathetic attempt to save her son and shouted a spell. Green light came out of the tip of his wand and hit the woman square in the chest. She let out a terrifying scream before hitting the wood floor. Her lifeless eyes stared up at her only son, as he reached through the crib grabbing for his mother.
The dark man stepped closer to the crib. He turned his wand on to the small emerald eyes staring up at him. Green light washed through the room once more, but this time a white light mixed with it and overpowered the green. A deathly scream pierced the night air drowning out the crying of the small child.
Harry woke up in a cold sweat. He was shaking from head to toe as he rolled on to his side and tried to forget the nightmare he had just had. He was having it again. The same dream he had been having since visiting Godric’s Hollow. Only Harry knew it wasn’t a dream. It had really happened. His mother had died right in front of him trying to protect him, and for some reason he was forced to relive that moment every time he closed his eyes. That was one of many reasons why he hadn’t been sleeping these days.
Harry remembered the last time he had been able to get any real sleep. It had been the night he had visited Godric’s Hollow. The night he had spent with Ginny. A pang tore through his heart as he thought of her. He could only imagine the pain she was going through now. She probably thought he was dead. It had been over a month since his disappearance. He had wanted to tell her what had happened, but he knew he couldn’t. It was better this way, at least for now.
Harry sat up in bed and turned on the light. He knew that going back to sleep was pointless, so he decided to get an early start on his studies. He pulled on a t-shirt and headed for the only other piece of furniture in the small room. He sat down at the desk and opened a book he was using as his new journal, since his other one was back at Grimmauld Place and he couldn’t go back there to get it.
Harry caught a glimpse of himself smiling back at him from the desk. He cringed inwardly. It was an old photo of him at the Triwizard Tournament. Why did they have to use that picture? He glanced at the title of the newspaper Harry Potter: A Hero Missing?
Harry scoffed, “If they only knew…”
He pushed the newspaper from a week ago aside and began writing in his journal without another thought of it. Several hours and four pages worth of notes later, he put down his quill and stretched his sore muscles. He glanced at the clock. It read 4:58 A.M. He’d better hurry or he’d be late. Harry slammed his book shut and quickly slipped on his trainers near the bed. Halfway out the door, Harry remembered something and went back into the room.
“I can’t forget that,” he said as he grabbed his wand off the desk and headed out the door closing it behind him.
“No. No. No. Do it again! You have to get this right, Potter! How many times have I told you…”
“I know what you said, and I’m trying,” Harry yelled, as he pulled himself up from the dirty floor.
Snape crossed his arms and sneered down at the youth, “No, you’re not. If you were trying, you would have succeeded already.”
Harry gritted his teeth and hissed, “Fine, let’s do it again.”
Snape uncrossed his arms and stepped into his previous position, “Good. Let’s start from the beginning.”
Snape stood in front of Harry, and without saying a word, flicked his wand with a slight twist of his wrist. A red light erupted from the tip and came rushing at Harry. Harry stood his ground as the light came toward him. He gripped his wand tightly and braced himself. He was determined to get it right this time. “Protego,” he thought.
At first Harry didn’t think the spell had worked, but just as the red light was about to hit. The light bounced off the shield and hit a nearby wall.
“It’s about time,” Snape sneered, as he lowered his wand.
The grin on Harry’s face dimmed somewhat. He really hoped he didn’t have to put up with Snape much longer. The training was taking longer than expected. Harry knew he would do better if he didn’t have to put up with Snape’s snide remarks everyday, but he was here for a reason. It was the reason that kept him from walking out.
Harry remembered back to the day everything changed. When his whole world had been turned upside down within a matter of a few short hours. It had all started with his visit to the Hog’s Head over a month ago. Harry remembered what had happened there as if it was yesterday.
He remembered entering into the dark bar and looking around for any signs of a trap or his old professor. A careful look revealed only three people in the room, which included the bartender and two patrons. There was no sign of Snape.
The two patrons were occupying different tables. One was an old woman who was singing softly to herself, as she took a shot of fire whiskey. The other was leaning forward on the table in front of him snoring loudly. His face concealed by an arm. If it was a trap, reinforcements must be lurking somewhere else. Harry went to the bar and took a seat on a stool there. He could see the two patron’s reflections in a mirror behind the counter.
“What will it be, lad?” the bartender asked, coming up to Harry.
“Butterbeer please,” he said still eying the other two occupants carefully.
The bartender grabbed a container from under the counter and filled it to the brim. He then slid Harry the tall mug overflowing with gold liquid. Harry picked up the mug and took a long sip from it. He sighed contently as the warm liquid went down his throat. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation.
Harry felt something push past him. He looked up quickly to see who it was, but no one was there. Harry turned back to his drink and saw a piece of folded paper sitting near his mug. He again looked up scanning the room, but only saw the two people from before. The old woman was still singing to herself and the man was sprawled out on the table. Harry glanced up to ask the bartender where the note had come from, but he had disappeared into a back room. Who could have dropped off the letter? Harry shrugged and opened it.
Meet me upstairs.
He turned the parchment, over hoping there was more, but there wasn’t. He took another sip from his mug and slipped off the barstool. Harry took another quick look around the room. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he headed for a set of stairs near the back wall.
Once he was half way up the stairs, Harry stopped and pulled out his wand. He slowly crept the rest of the way up and stood outside a door that was slightly cracked open. He paused and took a deep breath. He then pushed the door the rest of the way open, and peered into the dark room. A figure was standing near the fireplace.
“It’s about time you showed. I was beginning to think you’d never figure out what my message meant. Are you going to come in, or just stand there all day?” the figure sneered.
Harry immediately recognized the voice as Snape’s. Hot anger boiled up inside at the sight of his old professor. The memory of the last time he had seen Snape was still fresh in his mind. Harry lifted his wand higher and pointed it at the other man, “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
“You couldn’t kill me if you wanted. You lack the proper skills and discipline,” Snape admonished.
“We’ll see about that,” Harry growled.
“As much as I’d like to see you fail miserably at attempting to kill me, that’s not why I asked you to come here.”
“I don’t care why you’re here. I came here for one reason and one reason only.”
“You should stop before you embarrass yourself, Potter,” Snape smirked, as he turned to face Harry.
“And I think you’re scared. Why else would you keep stalling?”
“I’m trying to get through your thick imbecile skull that I’m not here to fight you. If I did, you’d already be dead.”
“You wish,” Harry snorted.
“I knew this was a waste of time. What Dumbledore saw in you is beyond me.”
“Don’t speak that name to me!” Harry yelled angrily.
“Whether you believe it or not Potter, I’m just as upset about the Headmaster’s death as you. He was one of the few decent men I’ve known,” Snape replied softly.
“LIAR!” Harry was now trembling with rage.
“Believe what you will. I invited you here to give you some information, not reminisce about things that can’t be changed,” Snape said coolly.
“And what could you possibly say that I would want to hear?”
“A lot. Dumbledore was a very wise man. He knew that if I killed him, the Dark Lord would start to trust me again, well as much as a man like him can trust anyone.
Harry had heard enough, “Expelliarmus!”
The spell erupted from the end of Harry’s wand, but Snape was easily able to step to one side. It hit the far wall instead, and left a large black mark.
“Really, is that the best you can do? You haven’t learned anything Potter, have you?”
Harry ignored Snape’s remark and aimed again, “Stupefy!”
Again Snape stepped aside before the spell hit him. This time the spell hit a small table with a tea set. It was sent crashing to the floor.
Snape merely looked at the broken china, “I think Dumbledore seriously overestimated your talents. You’re going to take more work than he anticipated. I seriously don’t see you being ready in time.”
“Quit talking and fight me. You traitor!”
This seemed to strike a nerve in the other man, “I’m no traitor,” Snape threatened. He then pulled a wand from his robes, “Very well, but it won’t be much of a fight.”
Harry advanced forward, “Petrificus-“
Before Harry could finish, a spell came from the end of Snape’s wand and hit Harry’s legs. Harry found his legs frozen in place, but he could still move his arms. He pointed his wand and yelled, “Locomotor Mortis!”
Again, Snape’s spell reached Harry almost before Harry was done with his own incantation. Harry’s wand flew from his hand, as he was knocked into a chair. Both went crashing to the floor. Harry struggled to get up, but Snape was too fast. Before Harry knew it, he was completely paralyzed by a full body curse.
Harry tried to move, but he knew it was no use. Harry stared up at the ceiling helpless, as a greasy head hovered over him.
“I told you it wouldn’t be much of a fight. How you’ve managed to stay alive this long is beyond me. Must be pure dumb luck. Since you won’t listen to what I have to say and you’re so determined to kill me, I figure this would be the best way to get you to listen. But I’m afraid our little duel has caused a bit of a commotion. It won’t be long and someone will be coming up here to see what’s going on, and we can’t have that.”
Snape retrieved Harry’s wand. He then pulled a pocket watch from his robes and tapped it twice with his wand. Snape grabbed Harry’s arm.
Seconds later Harry felt a familiar pull at his navel. He felt himself falling, but his flight ended as suddenly as it started. He collided into something and could hear objects breaking all around him. Harry felt a sharp pain in his side. It grew around to his back and crept down his legs. His vision began to blur and darkness closed in on him until he knew no more.
“Potter. Wake up Potter.”
Harry slowly came out of a dreamless sleep and opened his eyes. He remembered what had happened and sat up abruptly, but was stopped by a sharp pain in his side. Harry cried out, as his hand went the source of the pain.
“Don’t move. You’ll only make it worse,” Snape snapped.
Harry licked his lips and asked, “What… what happened?”
“I used a Portkey to bring you here, but your landing was a little less than desirable. You ended up smashing the kitchen table and every dish on it. A piece of glass ended up in your side. I removed it and said a healing spell, but it will be a few days before it will heal completely. You should watch where you land next time.”
“Yeah, like I had a choice,” Harry grumbled. He laid his head back on a pillow and looked around at the tiny bedroom, “Where am I?”
“Don’t worry Potter. No one knows you’re here,” Snape assured.
“No one… Ron, Hermione, I was suppose to meet them. What time is it?” Harry asked excitedly. He tried to get up, but again was stopped by the pain.
Snape shot him a warning look, “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve been here the better part of the night. I’m sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger know your not coming and went back home.”
“They’re probably worried about me. I should send them an owl or something to let them know where I am.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“And why not? You can’t hold me against my will,” Harry’s said, his voice rising slightly.
“Like I would want to be around you on purpose. If you would allow me to continue our conversation from earlier, you might understand,” Snape sneered.
“Yeah, like anything you say will be the truth,” Harry snorted.
“Fine. Don’t listen to me, but I’m sure you’ll listen to what Dumbledore has to say.”
“What are you talking about?” Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Snape quickly turned and left the room without saying a word. Several minutes later he came back with a large object in his hands. Harry recognized the item.
“Where did you get that!” Harry yelled. He felt anger swell up inside him when he saw the item in Snape’s possession.
Snape set the object near the bed, “See for yourself.”
Harry looked at Snape trying to figure out what was going on. Nothing was making sense. What was Snape doing with Dumbledore’s Pensive? And why was he here? Where was here?
Snape suddenly whirled and walked toward the door. Before exiting, he turned around like he was going to say something, but he must of changed his mind because he turned and closed the door.
Harry sat staring at the door, his mind racing. If Snape was bad, then why wasn’t he in Voldemort’s hands right now? Maybe Snape was going to turn him over to Voldemort, and it was just a matter of Voldemort getting the message so he could collect Harry. But that didn’t explain why Snape had just handed Harry Dumbledore’s Pensive.
Harry looked down at the pensive, and saw something he hadn’t notice before. A letter with his name on it was sitting on the edge of the basin. Harry slowly got out of bed and carefully bent down to pick the letter up. He recognized the handwriting as Dumbledore’s. Harry quickly opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment. He started reading.
Dear Harry,
If you’re reading this note, then I have passed on to another great adventure and you now have my Pensive in your possession. The Pensive is now yours. Do with it what you will. You may even find answers to some of your questions inside. The past can sometimes be helpful in finding the future, but to dwell too heavily on the past can do more harm than good. Remember that, as you walk the path of memories I have laid out for you.
I know my passing has not been easy for you, but it was necessary. You could not properly fulfill your destiny until it had happened. I know you may not understand this or want to accept it, but you must move past it and continue what we started together. As you do so, let your heart guide you to the truth and you will find what you seek. I know that you have what it takes to do this. I’ve already seen glimpses of it shine through you. Just remember to be true to yourself and not to be afraid to put your trust in others, even in those you may not like. Most of the journey you’re about to take, you will have to do alone, but not all of it. Never forget what your greatest power is. It burns deep inside you, and it is the one thing Voldemort will never have or truly understand.
Albus Dumbledore
Harry finished reading the letter a mixture of feelings running through him. He went to the
Pensive and caressed it fondly. .He was thrilled and heartbroken to have such a possession given to him. It was not glowing so he knew there weren’t any memories inside. He then noticed a case, which held the vials of individual memories. He opened the case and saw it was full with of tiny vials. Each vial was number starting with one and counting up to twenty-four. He guessed that this was the order he was to view them. Harry pulled out the first vial and poured it into the empty Pensive. The familiar silver light filled the bowl and Harry leaned forward. He was pulled into the whirling mass of light and found himself standing in Dumbledore’s office.
Harry turned and saw Dumbledore sitting at his desk writing. He felt relief and sadness to see his Headmaster again. Harry walked up and stood behind the old man trying to see what he was writing. He was shocked to see it was the beginning of the letter he had just read moments before. Harry watched quietly wondering why Dumbledore had chosen this memory to see first. He didn’t have to wait long. Dumbledore soon finished the letter and slipped it into his top desk drawer. He then grabbed a traveling cloak and walked to the window. He looked out onto the grounds below. Fawkes came through the window and settled on the window ledge.
“Ah, hello old friend. We may very well get lucky tonight. Thanks to you of course.”
Fawkes rubbed his head affectionately on the old man’s outstretched hand and then flew to his perch. Suddenly there was loud banging on the door, but the person did not wait for the Headmaster to acknowledge. The door swung open and Harry saw himself enter the room.
A small smile played on Dumbledore’s lips as he calmly said, “Enter.” He continued to gaze out the window.
Harry watched as he saw his past self come barreling into the room. It then dawned on the real Harry what memory he was seeing. It was the night Dumbledore died. It was just before the two of them had left for the cave. A lump found its way into his throat.
“Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me.”
His other self looked confused, “Come… with you…?”
“Only if you wish it, of course.”
“If I…” Then a look of recognition dawned on the boy’s face, “You’ve found one? You’ve found a Horcrux?”
“I believe so.”
Harry could no longer watch. He knew what was going to happen next. A turmoil of pain and anger went through him. If only he could warn them not to go. If only he could somehow let them know that the Horcrux was a fake, that if they went it would result in Dumbledore’s death. Harry’s heart sank as he realized he couldn’t do anything but stand and watch history repeat itself. But it wasn’t history it was just a memory. A very painful one at that, but if this was Dumbledore’s memory then how did it get extracted? He didn’t have time. Did he? And why would this vial be labeled as number one? Why should he relive this memory at all? Nothing made sense. He already knew what was happening. He had lived this memory with Dumbledore.
“AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!”
Harry turned back to the scene unfolding before him, as he heard his other voice yelling.
“Harry, please listen to me. Professor Snape made a terrible-“
His other self interrupted Dumbledore, “Don’t tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!”
“Please, let me finish.”
The other Harry nodded and Dumbledore continued, “Professor Snape made a terrible mistake. He was still in Lord Voldemort’s employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney’s prophecy. Naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard, for it concerned his master most deeply. But he did not know- he had no possible way of knowing- which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onward, or that the parents he would destroy in his murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew, that they were your mother and father-“
A hollow laugh came from his other self.
“He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven’t you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?”
Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “You have no idea the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he turned-”
“But he’s a very good Occlumens, isn’t he, sir?”
The other Harry’s voice shook with barley controlled emotion, “And isn’t Voldemort convinced that Snape’s on his side, even now? Professor… how can you be sure Snape’s on our side?”
Dumbledore was silent for a moment and then spoke, “I am sure. I trust Severus Snape completely.”
Harry felt like a hot knife had gone through him. How could Dumbledore trust Snape so blindly? If only he knew that the very man he trusted so completely would be the one to murder him. Hate like no other started to boil up inside him. He began to tremble with rage. Snape would pay for what he did. Harry would make sure of this. He didn’t know why Snape had brought him to wherever he was. He didn’t know why Snape had possession of Dumbledore’s Pensive. He didn’t care.
Suddenly the room around him was quiet. Harry realized the conversation between him and Dumbledore had ended and Dumbledore was alone in the room. His other self must have gone to get his Invisibility Cloak before heading off to the cave.
Dumbledore moved from the window and went to a cabinet. He pulled a small glass vial from a box and put his wand to his head. A long silver thread came from his temple. Harry felt himself being transported back to his room.
Harry didn’t want to waste any more time. He swung into action and glanced quickly around the room for any sight of his wand, of course it wasn’t there. No surprise there. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need a wand. Snape would pay one way or another.
Harry rushed towards the bedroom door, but his foot caught on something and he went crashing to the floor. Harry saw stars as a surge of pain shot through his injured side. The pain made Harry cry out. His hand went to his side. He pulled his hand away and looked down to see it covered in blood. Whatever Snape had done to fix him he had just undone. The thought of Snape gave Harry a cold steady resolve and he pulled himself up to his knees.
That’s when he saw the vials scattered across the room. They had rolled in every direction. Panic gripped Harry. He couldn’t lose his only connection he had with his mentor and friend. A quick inspection showed them all to be intact. He sighed with relief. Dumbledore must have put an unbreakable spell on them.
Harry quickly started to gather the vials and put them back in the case he had tripped over. A few minutes later he had most of the vials in their rightful place. He picked up the last one, number three. He started to place it in the box when he noticed with horror that he could see a silvery mist coming from around the seal of the corked bottle. Harry quickly opened the vial and placed the silvery substance inside the Pensive before it had a chance to escape.
“That was close,” Harry said out loud.
He was about to get up when he saw a familiar greasy head inside the pensive. It was Snape. Curiosity made Harry lean in to get a closer look. Before he knew what was happening he was being pulled into another memory.
This time he found himself in a place he did not recognize. He saw Dumbledore sitting in a living room with Snape. Their hands were joined. A man Harry did not recognize stood over the two men with his wand pointed at the clasped hands.
Dumbledore began to speak, “Will you Severus Snape, watch over Harry Potter as he attempts to fulfill his destiny?”
“I will,” Snape replied.
A tongue of red fire came from the wand and circled its way around the hands like a red-hot wire.
“And will you, to the best of your ability teach and guide him to learn what he needs to face his future.”
“I will.”
A second tongue of brilliant fire shot from the wand and intertwined with the first one, making a glowing chain of fire.
“And, should it prove necessary and if the time comes you will do everything in your power to protect Harry, even if it means sacrifice of myself or yourself?”
This time there was a slight hesitation from Snape, but he continued, “I will.”
A third and final flame came from the wand and intertwined with the others binding itself around the clasped hands like a fiery snake.
“I was wondering how he was going to convince you of my allegiance.”
Startled Harry whirled around and saw a second Snape. He knew this was the real one.
“Why? Why did you do it?” Harry replied, still in complete shock of what he had just witnessed.
“I had my reasons. We need to go. Your training needs to begin immediately, if we ever hope to have you ready in time.”
For once Harry didn’t argue as he followed Snape out of the memory. He wasn’t sure if he could believe what he’d just witnessed. Snape hated him. Why would he do such a thing? Why would he take a magical vow that couldn’t be broken to protect him, of all people? It just didn’t make sense.
Once out of the memory Harry turned to Snape, “Was that real? Did it really happen?”
“Memories don’t lie,” Snape replied.
“But… but Dumbledore…”
“He knew what he was doing when he asked me to make the vow and to kill him.”
Harry balked at Snape’s audacity to think Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him, “No he didn’t! I was there!”
“Then you remember only what you want, because he did,” Snape replied quietly.
Harry thought back to that night. He did remember Dumbledore begging Snape to help him. Had he misunderstood? It did seem out of character to hear his Headmaster begging for his life. Maybe Snape was right. Maybe he was asking…
“NO! I WON’T BELIEVE IT! YOU KILLED HIM!”
“At his request,” Snape simply replied.
“IT’S STILL MURDER!”
“I will not explain myself any further to you. I did what was necessary, as should you. Believe what you want Potter, but I am here to help you. I’m not happy about it, but I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”
Harry stood glaring at Snape. His anger toward his former Professor started to dissipate. It was replaced by confusion and uncertainty. He didn’t know what to think, or who to trust. It was just too much to take in. Harry sat on his bed and winched with pain as he did so. He looked down at his side. He had forgotten he had opened the wound back up.
Snape noticed Harry’s bloody shirt. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry’s side, and began mumbling under his breath. Harry felt a coolness go through him and the pain stopped.
“I still don’t trust or like you,” Harry sighed too tired to fight anymore.
“The feeling is mutual,” Snape smirked.
That was the beginning of Harry and Snape’s shaky alliance. They each had their own reasons for the strange truce. Harry wasn’t exactly sure what Snape’s was, but he knew it was important if he was willing to make such a vow concerning someone he obviously hated. Harry decided if Snape could put his differences aside, then so could he. It was the least he could do for Dumbledore, who had sacrificed so much for him. Since then the two of them have endured each other’s presence with a controlled animosity.
Snape immediately began Harry’s intense training the very next day. Five weeks of isolation and endless lessons occupied all of Harry’s time and thoughts. Harry still didn’t understand why he couldn’t at least tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny where he was. But Snape was insistent that it remain this way for the time being for the safety of them both. Harry compiled, but he wasn’t happy about it.
“Now that you finally managed to do a spell nonverbally, maybe we can advance to something more challenging.” Snape sneered.
“Fine with me,” Harry replied, coming back to the present.
Snape narrowed his eyes, “You really should take this training more seriously.”
“I am taking it seriously.”
“Really, so you understand what is at stake here?”
“Yes, I do,” Harry looked the other man straight in the eyes.
“Then I shouldn’t have to explain to you that this training is the most important thing for you to be doing. You should be putting all your energy and concentration in it. How well you train will determine how successful you will be in defeating the Dark Lord, if you even can.”
“I can and I will,” Harry answered a determined look on his face.
Snape smirked, “That remains to be seen. The only way you will defeat him is if you meet him on his level.”
“What is that suppose to mean?”
“No mercy, Potter. Show him no mercy.”