Helen Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

A/N: Well, now we know why you don’t teach people to much too quickly, they tend to get ideas. Guess we will be seeing what Helen has planned next and no, I haven’t forgotten about Ronald.

Chapter 6
Revelations and Revelry

She now had an explanation how Albus got around the school so fast. The Head’s office had its own hub of secret passages. The revolving staircase could also go down, further than the gargoyle entrance. She would have stopped the stairs but it seemed they never stopped and she decided it would be more suspicious if they suddenly quieted. He didn’t keep the door to his office locked, probably figuring the gargoyle was enough protection, which made it easy for her to get passed the portal and into his office. She set the book on his desk before turning to the cabinet that held the silver bowl she was interested in. The pensive sat where it always was, the shimmering surface waiting for a memory to be placed within. She moved it to one of the tables and set it down then returned to the vials that were carefully placed on the shelves. They were labeled with names and dates, some with short explanations. She found one labeled HP-TR with a date a few weeks before her parents death and decided to give it a try. Taking the vial she spilled its contents into the pensive then plunged her face into the swirling liquid.

The room at the inn hadn’t been maintained very well, whoever the proprietor was they obviously had better things to do. The woman sitting across from Albus Dumbledore was strange indeed. She had thick glasses and shawls upon shawls. Her wrists were covered in bangles that jangled as she moved her arms. Albus looked bored as he listened to her weave yet another strange prediction. He was about to leave when she suddenly froze, her voice became gravelly and the woman who had introduced herself as Sybill Trelawney was absent from the room.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord Will be born as the seventh month dies…”

Helen pulled her head out and settled onto one of the armchairs. She closed her eyes and sighed, this was why her parents had died, some idiotic prophecy. The sad part, it made sense. Sooner or later someone was going to come along that could stop him. Dumbledore could fight him but he couldn’t finish the deal for some reason. Whatever that reason was didn’t really matter, what mattered to her in this very moment was that Tom Riddle had come for her and her parents got in the way.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. I asked Severus to let me tell you, I could see you getting more curious as each day went by and I knew it was a matter of time before you found a way.”

“Dad has his own ideas of what my childhood should look like. They are quaint, but not entirely realistic. How did he find out?”

“I assume you mean Tom. I should probably let your dad tell you about that.”

She nodded absently, “Conceded. So this is why you are training me, so that I can kill Tom Riddle?”

“Not exactly. You do have to face him in the end, I am training you so that you are better prepared to do so. I don’t like this idea that one of you has to die.”

“You don’t like killing. Well, I can’t say I much like the idea either. But nothing says that I have to kill him, just Lord Voldemort.”

“What do you mean?” he asked intrigued.

“Lord Voldemort has to die, Tom Riddle may not have to. Either way though, I will do what I have to.”

“You are aware that he had your whole family killed.”

“Yes, all except my Aunt Petunia. Did you know I saw her once, horrid woman.”

“You should go talk to Severus.”

“I should, goodnight Headmaster.”

“Goodnight Helen.”

With her map and its ability to track everyone in the castle it wasn’t hard for her to find her dad. It was finally late enough that he was in his sitting room so she avoided Filch and made her way to the dungeons. Her dad was sitting in front of the fire, a wireless playing in the background and a book on his knee. His wand was pointed at the door but when his eyes found hers he lowered it.

“You should be in bed, in your dorm.”

“And you should have told me about the prophecy.”

His eyes widened for a split second before a veil settled over his face, “So Albus bent to your will.”

“No, I broke into his office and watched his memory. You should have told me. You should have been the one to break that to me, and you should be the one to tell me how He Who Is A Joke found out about it. Dad don’t even do what I know you’re thinking of doing. You have never lied to me and I will never forgive you if you start now.”

She watched him swallow hard before he stood and moved to the cabinet that was always locked. There were few things that he kept her out of, fewer that she hadn’t managed to access. He had told her about this one though, it held his supplies for his work for Dumbledore. He pulled a pensive from the cabinet and set it on the coffee table. He grabbed a vial and spilled its contents in before sitting across from it.

“Are you sure you wish to see this? Once you do we will be having a very long conversation.”

“Yes, I am sure. It’s time dad.”

He nodded once before they both plunged their head into the pensive. The Severus in the pensive was clean shaven, the goatee he now sported was gone. They followed the younger Snape down the path to Hogsmead, stopping behind bushes and buildings keeping an eye on a platinum blonde head in a black cloak that was moving through the village. The Hogshead was a place Helen had been a few times and recognized as their destination, she was very fond of Aberforth.

Albus had told Severus to keep an eye on his old friend, and it looked like he was rather interested in the hunt for a divination professor. Lucius stood stock still, probably bored out of his mind, as the mad woman went on and on with wild predictions of the future. Severus kept his distance, watching from a crack in the wall of one of the rooms for rent. He could see Lucius clearly and hear Albus’s conversation just as clearly. He actually felt sorry for the old man. Then the tone of voice changed and Severus suddenly found himself listening to words that chilled his blood, but so was Lucius. Severus stepped into the hallway making enough noise to be noticed. Lucius turned at once and as soon as he spotted Severus he dived out of a window in the hallway.

“Lucius told him?!?”

“He only heard part of the prophecy, but yes. Let’s leave.”

They pulled out of the pensive and Helen gave her dad a piercing look, “How could you be his friend? After what he caused?”

“I wasn’t for a while. Shortly after telling the Dark Lord though Lucius became disgusted with his behavior. As you know Lucius has a serious sense of propriety. He also didn’t appreciate the idea of killing children, fatherhood had an effect on him. He knew that I had left the Dark Lord’s service and started working for Dumbledore, he was rather desperate. Albus and I discussed it and decided that he would make a perfect spy. He was my first. He wanted Draco and Narcissa protected so we arranged a falling out, then he started to gather intelligence for me and new spies. In three months we managed to recruit six.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“No, it doesn’t. The night Lily and James died he came to me alarmed. The Dark Lord had decided that you were the one, and Lucius had pushed trying to stop him. He endured several rounds of Curcio before the scaly one left. He nearly died getting to me, he splintched himself so badly. He was the reason I got to the house in Godric’s Hollow so quickly that night.”

“What else haven’t you told me, dad?”

“Plenty, but nothing to do with this. I’m not always going to tell you everything Helen. As much as you would like me to. There are times when the situation and our involvement in that situation won’t allow me to. We will have to take these situations one at a time.”

“You say that like it makes things better. It doesn’t. I’m tired of not sleeping, I’m tired of the fear of closing my eyes, I’m just plain tired. I only get a few hours of sleep then I wake up in a cold sweat, visions of green light washing over me. I can’t remember what happened that night really, but I have vague glimpses in my dreams and I can’t stand them. This thing on my forehead randomly starts throbbing, it's all I can do to pay attention during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Its blinding.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean, is it just that class?”

“No,” she shook her head thinking, “no, it happens from time to time in other classes. But it never fails to happen in DADA.”

“Interesting. Well, I will have to look into that. Now, I want you in bed young lady. It's far too late to go back to your dorm so just go sleep in your room. I’ll come and wake you early so that you can get back up to Gryffindor.”

Helen nodded and walked sleepily toward her door, “I love you dad.”

“I love you too Helen. Now get some rest.”

She had woken up the next day before her dad and set out for the common room as soon as curfew was lifted. She spent the next week on auto pilot, classes and homework and quidditch practice. She was spending time in the dungeon with Ronald, exploring with Hermione, and visiting with Hagrid and her dad. As the term came to a close everyone was growing more and more excited to see their families and spend some time at home. But for Helen this was home. Because of the act of a madman this was her home. Rather than having a house in the country with her parents she lived in a school with her dad who had adopted her. She hated that she loved an idea rather than two people in the prime of their lives. She wished she could go and find Voldemort and alleviate these feelings inside her. She hated this burning rage inside of her, this need for violence and unthought action, it was a part of her and she knew that but she didn’t like it.

“You are going to be okay?” Hermione asked.

Helen nodded, “Yea, I’ll be fine. I am used to bumming around the castle by myself so this will be no different. Don’t worry luv, I’m just going to get into trouble and spend some time with dad. Go have fun with your parents and don’t forget to send me an owl.”

Hermione hugged her tight, “Have a good holiday and I’ll write.”

Snow was starting to fall on the Hogsmead train platform and Helen waved as the train pulled away. She felt dad’s arm fall around her shoulders and found herself wrapped in the warmth of pitch black wool. When she was little she had found it uncomfortable, the darkness, the wool, but Severus had changed to a lined cloak and the darkness no longer bothered her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let him lead her into the village.

“How would you like to spend solstice at Nana’s?”

It took a bit of work to extract herself from the voluminous folds of heavy black but when she did she looked at him shocked, “You’re serious?”

“Quite, my dear grandmother has been quite descriptive of what she will do to me if I don’t bring you round this year.”

Helen couldn’t help but to giggle. Abigale Snape was a muggle woman nearing her nineties who had a temper like a boxer and the creativity of an artist. They didn’t get to see her very often as she had taken to spending her twilight years, as she often called them, aboard cruise ships. The thought of spending a day with Nana Snape and her cooking was tantamount to a wish come true.

“Can I go the day before and help her get everything ready?”

“Not only can you go, but I think we both will. Now come, we have potions to brew. I expect you to have your share done before we leave.”

“You know dad, we are supposed to be on vacation.”

“And birds are supposed to fly, so explain chickens to me.”

The car was a 1950 Hillman Minx, an elegant classic that Severus had had restored after his father’s death. For his purposes it was more about having a reliable auto that didn’t look as if it would fall apart at any moment than its resale value, but the old car turned heads as they made their way down country roads to Nana Snape’s house. Helen used to laugh because it was literally over the river and through the woods to get there. The two door family sedan crunched across the gravel drive as they pulled onto it and made their way to the house. If Severus’s father hadn’t pissed away his money gambling and drinking they would have lived in something like this. After all, the Lady Snape had a charming country home that befit her title. The three story stone building sat in the middle of the tended gardens with its fountain covered for winter. The few plants, mostly evergreens, left exposed to the elements downplayed the sand colored stone of the house.

Helen only had eyes for the front doors and the grand old dame herself. Abigale Snape stood on the steps of her home with her gunmetal grey hair curled perfectly under a small black hat. She was wearing a grey skirt and matching blazer. As soon as the car came to a stop Helen bolted for the old woman and her waiting arms.

“How’s my sprout? That grandson of mine isn’t making an ass of himself, is he?”

“No Nana, he’s been behaving himself. Well, as much as he ever does.”

Abigale laughed, “That’s my Severus. It’s too bad his father was a horse’s ass. Shall we watch Benny Hill tonight?”

“I haven’t had a better offer nanna, and I doubt I ever will.”

“Well, come along sprout, we have biscuits to make.”

Severus shook his head, “Yes, it's wonderful to see you as well gran…I’ve missed you to…”

Abigale drew the tall man into her arms and squeezed him, “Yes Severus, it is good to see you as well. Now, come along. My granddaughter and I have things to do. How is Albus, still puttering around that old castle pretending that he isn’t involved in the larger world?”

“I think there is less pretending these days. He has already started to recall the Order and I have gone to work again.”

“Well, I know you won’t tell me anything else. You will be careful I trust.”

The way she said it he knew it was an order more than a wish and it was one he was only too happy to follow. He watched Helen dash to the kitchen and knew he had to be careful about what she overheard. While he had promised to be honest with her there was no point in giving her anything to question that would require him to test the limits of those questions. He was simply thankful that his work right now required little time and little risk. Beyond a few drinks in some dank bars and back alley meetings his time was spent pouring over possible targets for the Dark Lord and his followers and ways to increase security around them. He had been the one to see the philosopher’s stone for what it was, a free ticket to the party for the Dark Lord.

He leaned against the counter and watched his daughter work. He was thankful that his gran was a Wiccan. There would be none of this silliness about Christmas or any of the other strange celebrations that took place this time of year. That was one of the many sticking points that Voldemort used to launch his campaign, the influx of muggle traditions into the wizarding world. He saw muggleborns as the reason behind this and stirred his followers prejudices. Muggles and their magical children are the reason for the fall of wizarding tradition. Half-bloods are barely better with a foot in two worlds. Severus rolled his eyes, there was nothing true about that. If someone was to be blamed it was the church and the pressure they put on the world as a whole to believe as they did. The church was brilliant in that way, changing holy days to overlap with older holidays and the purges did much to change the face of England to what it was today. Severus would quietly admit to himself that if the target had been the ones that hunted witches and wizards he would have been inclined to follow Lord Voldemort. But to believe that all the ills of the wizarding world were the young people who whole heartedly embraced it was folly.

He grabbed a fresh biscuit from the cooling tray and popped the confection in his mouth. The cinnamon and sugar awoke his tastebuds and brought a smile to his face, muggles didn’t have everything wrong. If things continued the way they were maybe he could suggest a worlds religion class, a way to teach young wizards that the wizarding world had its own traditions. He didn’t have an issue with muggle traditions, what he wanted to see was wizarding traditions being honored alongside the newer traditions.

“You are thinking too much and eating all the biscuits dad. Maybe you can slow down one of those?”

He looked to the cooling tray and the biscuit in his hand, he had eaten at least ten, “Very well, what would you suggest?”

“I think you should make some biscuits. Nanna has candied cherries.”

Severus smiled at his daughter and grabbed the jar, “Very well, I will make your favorite.”

Helen finished placing the last of the cutlery on the table. The old silver was shining for the solstice meal. The yule log was on the fire, it’s merry light dancing around the rooms as the wishes placed in the fire burnt away, the boar was on the table with a mountain of sides and Helen was splendid in a green velvet gown trimmed in silver. Abigale finally came in and placed a carving knife in front of Severus. He went to work carving the meat as Abigale poured the wine.

Once they were all served Abigale raised her glass, “To the return of the sun.”

Severus returned the gesture, “To the sun and new growth.”

Helen grinned, “To bikini season!”

Abigale chucked, “Cheeky little squirt. But yes, I will drink to the return of warmth enough to wear lighter clothes.”

“We have not made proper plans for the summer yet,” Severus reminded. “The greenhouses are coming along now, so we don’t have to travel as much to gather.”

Helen wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or not. As his business had grown, he had purchased a large parcel of land in America where he could build hundreds of greenhouses with specialized atmospheres and soils to grow thousands of ingredients for sale across the wizarding world. Years of gathering rare ingredients, seeds, and even eggs and young animals meant they now had the ability to supply many of the components that potioneers required. Abigale had helped him financially and was his silent partner in all of this, but Helen was his right hand. She had been instrumental in the collection of his startup supplies. The thought of the farm being up and running was exciting to her. She enjoyed traveling the world, but some of the places they had to trudge through were far from ideal. Helen had seen atrocities that still haunted her sleep. But there were plenty of places around the world that she still wanted to see and plenty of places she still wanted to take a holiday. She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the beach and the water, and there were beaches that she had yet to visit.

“We still haven’t gathered from one area,” she poked.

Abigale gave Severus a pointed look, “What is she talking about?”

Severus sighed and knew that he had been cornered, finally, “We have not gone to the Pacific islands yet. Specifically, Hawaii and several of the other chains.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? I am not funding a half-assed effort. Besides, my girl wants beaches and warmth, so let her go surf and swim.”

“Yes gran, I will make the arrangements.”

“Now squirt, tell me about these classes of yours, are they going well?”

Helen shrugged, “Dad hasn’t blown up on me yet, so I assume I am doing at least as well as expected.”

“She is doing very well gran. She has some surprises coming when classes resume,” he held his hand up to stop Helen before she started, “and I am not telling. Albus swore me to secrecy. You and Miss Granger are in for quite the challenge though.”

Abigale perked up, “You’ve made friends then?”

Helen laughed, “It was bound to happen sooner or later nanna. You would like Hermione, she’s smart and quick on her feet. She kind of reminds me of you actually.”

She couldn’t help but think of her grandmother’s library. She loved books, possibly more than Grandpa Snape, and had converted the huge wine cellar into her personal library. The room was climate controlled with huge humidity and temperature control units as well as two generators and a bank of batteries to run it all just in case. Helen was sure that was where Severus’s love of books had come from. Tomorrow she fully planned to go down and make use of the couches to read one of the thousands of muggle books down there.

“And what about your professors, how are they?”

Helen sighed, “It's weird, nanna. They’re family but I’m not really allowed to interact with them outside of the classroom. I miss them but they are right in front of me.”

“Silly girl. It’s a boarding school, you never go home. Just pop by during office hours and have a conversation.”

Helen stared at Abigale for a three count then her wide eyes went to Severus’s, “Can I do that?”

Severus laughed, “Office hours are specifically for people to stop by a professors’ office. You could even stop by mine, so long as I am not with someone else.”

“You know, Severus,” Abigale couldn’t help but laugh, “for such a bright young woman she isn’t that smart.”

Dear Helen,

My parents are driving me mad with questions about school. Some of it must be nice, having your dad there. You go on break and don’t have to spend all of your time rehashing everything that happened during the term. But I have to admit, it is nice to see them. I got your letter, it sounds like you had fun visiting with your nana. I’m glad you got out of the castle for a few days at any rate.

My parents want me to invite you and your dad to get together. They would like to meet you. I understand if you don’t have time, your dad needs to get ready for classes after all. Let me know by owl if you can. If not, I will see you when I get back to school.

Love,

Hermione

Helen looked at the tables full of cauldrons, they were working on the stock for the school and orders for a few clients, so all the desks were full. Severus had taught her to work multiple potions at once, it was like cooking, timing was important. She was responsible for the four cauldrons on the table in front of her and her dad was working on the other nineteen tables. It was interesting to watch him work. He went from table to table preparing ingredients and dumping them into each cauldron. They would get the required number of stirs before he was onto the next one. She wondered how long it took him to get to the point where he could work on this many potions at one time. Besides being impressive it also saved a great deal of time. A twelve hour brewing cycle allowed him to complete days’ worth of work in a single go.

He left Helen to some of the more time consuming brews. She didn’t have the practice he did with multitasking. But she could handle four of the more difficult potions. She had the time she needed to focus on each step for each potion. The work didn’t require much thought, in truth she had plenty of time to think while she did this. Which allowed her to calculate how long it would take them to complete the brewing they were required to complete before the new term started.

“Dad, we are going to finish in what, three days? That gives us six before term starts.”

Severus nodded as he added ingredients to two of his brews, “I had planned to slow down a bit, but yes, if we continue at our current rate we will be finished in three days. Why, do you have plans?”

“Well, that depends.” She held up the letter Hermione had sent her, “Mister and Missus Granger would like to meet us. I was thinking, we need to go and see about some new books, why don’t we do lunch while we are there?”

“Very well, but we need to get the potions finished first. Which means some extra hours for you since I have class prep to do as well.”

She knew what that meant. He had to prepare ingredients, bushels of ingredients. It was mind numbing work. Certain things he just wouldn’t allow students to do, and for good reason. Normally she would be doing some of that, but from the way he was talking it sounded like she would continue to brew while he worked. She was more than okay with that.

Every spell was about energy. Moving it, changing it, or directing it. That was a truth of most things in life. It took a certain number of calories to move your arms, to stand, or to run. Most first years barely had the energy to cast lumos. But it was more than just that. Helen was discovering that it was also about willpower. You needed to feel, want, need, and picture the effects of the spell. Spell work was an art, the movement of the wand tantamount to the sweep of a paintbrush. The energy of the spell the color of the paint spreading across the canvas of the world.

The more Helen studied the more she began to understand about magic and it’s makeup. They didn’t discuss that during their classes. The feeling of spells, the taste of them. Dumbledore had brought it up though. They started in first year, crafting spell through words, but when you listened to the professors lecture on them they talked about the intent of the spell, how it worked, how it should be cast, and how it should feel. They practiced until they caught that feeling, until they could move that energy the way they meant to. It was all a lesson to ready them for later years. She had seen her dad cast spells with a simple wave of his wand, no words, no ‘silly incantations’. As the spells became second nature, as feeling them became more normal, vocalization was no longer necessary for the mind to craft the spell.

Dumbledore’s lessons were causing her to take a look at every spell she was learning. They were like Berty Bott’s. Each one had its own unique feeling, flavor, and impetus. Classes were a perfect motivator. You wanted a good grade, you had a need to preform and impress your professor, and thus you provided a motivation for the spell. She and Hermione were already working toward that goal. Moving elemental magic couldn’t be done with words, and so they had to learn to feel their way through it. It was going to make sixth year far easier not having to learn to cast nonverbally.

But the willpower, that was a key she hadn’t foreseen. While you could cast a spell by the brute force of your own energy most people cast them by relying on the world around them, the need and want that created will would power a spell far easier than her own limited supply of energy. Something told her that was a secret she shouldn’t know yet. But much of the magic she was working with was well beyond her level and more over they were well outside her energy level. But she needed them to work, she want them to work. So the world around her supplemented her energy. Which kind of explained how a 150 year old school teacher could continue to wield such power. He had a deep connection to the world.

She left her dad’s quarters and made her way through the school. There were still a few students here, but not many. It made the halls a very quiet space. Helen found it creepy, the way the light created shadows, the shadows that seemed to hide things from view in the brightness. She shook herself out of those thoughts, it was just the quiet getting to her.

She stepped up to the gargoyle and smiled, “Hello…you know, I have never asked your name.”

“I don’t have one. Do you seek the Headmaster?”

“I do, password chocolate frogs.”

The gargoyle stepped aside, and she mounted the stairs. The stairs revolved and she leaned against the central pillar as she rode up them. It occurred to her that someone had really gone overboard with the amount of magic layered into this school. Everything from the ceiling in the great hall to the revolving staircases was magical, as if they could forget who they were. She understood some of it. The changing stairways made the castle hard to move through and the secret passages allowed defenders to move around freely. But why a revolving staircase?

She decided she would never get a satisfactory answer without talking to the designers so she just knocked on the door. When Dumbledore called enter she made her way to the perch and smiled at the bird, Fawkes was nearing a burning, but that didn’t make him any less beautiful. Her and Fawkes had known each other for a long time now and she was very fond of him.

“Hello Helen, to what do I owe this visit?”

“You knew this was coming Uncle Albus.”

“I did? I’m afraid at my age I sometimes forget appointments if I fail to write them down.”

Helen rolled her eyes and fell into one of the waiting chairs, “You know what I am talking about. You knew that sooner or later I would solve the puzzle, at least part of it.”

Albus smiled, “Perhaps you should give me a clue as to what you are talking about.”

“Will power. That is how you always beat Moldyface. Your connection to the world around you is stronger and thus the will behind your spell allows you to draw more power from the world.”

He looked impressed, “You are correct, sort of. Each person has a connection to the world around them. Tom has a problem when it comes to his connection. He loves no one, no one truly loves him…well, except for maybe Bellatrix Lestrange. He trusts no one, will allow no one close, and keeps nothing. He has no ties to this world. So, when he casts a spell, they are purely based on his own power. While he is powerful, no one is that powerful. I have many friends, both close and not. I love people and there are those that have chosen to return that affection. I have a home here, and another in Godric’s Hollow. In short, I have a deep connection to this world. That is always the trap for the dark lords.”

“They keep everyone at a distance out of fear of betrayal,” she said softly. “But he manages to fight you, and quite well from the stories I have heard.”

Albus shrugged, “Well, part of that is myth and hyperbole, but you are correct. He draws power through the dark mark. Didn’t you ever wonder why he brands his followers in such a visible way? They are more than just a means of communication and transportation. They are his link to the world. His followers love, and have friends, and homes, and property. They are connected. He doesn’t need to let them close. Moreover, why brand every follower and not just his lieutenants? Because the more he draws to his ranks the stronger he gets, in both numbers and his ability to draw strength.”

“How did dad sever his link?”

Albus looked like he wasn’t going to answer but thought better of it, “Death is required to take the mark. It’s a living brand, so you must take a life to give it life. Something equally as important is needed to break that bond. You must give a life, your own. The mark is a bastardization of the marks of Anubis and Asclepius. When you die, if your sacrifice is deemed worthy Anubis returns your soul from the underworld and Asclepius heals your body. Severus gave his life to save a young muggle girl…and Lucius who refused to kill her.”

She leaned back heavily in the chair, her mind was already racing. Her dad had died. He had given his life so that others could survive, and it not only freed him but allowed him to return to the mortal realm. Helen swore softly, he had the blessing of gods from two pantheons. That was powerful magic.

“I will pretend I did not hear that particular word. But I agree with the sentiment. The mark changes from that of Apophis and Set to the true mark of Anubis and Asclepius. The old magics are the best sometimes. If you look at his mark you will notice the skull and snake have both changed to match their new affiliation. When Voldemort finally dies it may disappear, or it may change completely. But either way, the first step for your father was to cut his ties. This is why I don’t question his loyalty. If the gods can see his worth, then who am I to question it.

“He came to me because of his mother,” Albus held his hand up to forestall the question he could see forming, “I won’t answer so don’t ask. But until he severed his link, I wasn’t completely sure I could trust him. I had considered an unbreakable vow, but in the end that would be little better than the dark mark.”

“I’m going to go… I’m… Uncle, is dad okay?”

“Yes, he is fine. He was only dead for a few hours. But he has been checked over extremely closely by Madam Pomfrey. Actually, he is healthier now than he was before. Now, run along. I can see that your train is about to run off the tracks if you don’t get some space, so let the boiler get hot.”

Helen shook her head and left the office. He was a strange man, but she supposed that at his age he was allowed all the eccentricity he wished. Something told her that she would have another nightmare to look forward to. She couldn’t say she was excited.

Night had fallen several hours ago, and she should have been back in their quarters, but she wasn’t ready to face that. With only a handful of classes most of the castle sat unused. Many of the professors used multiple rooms so they wouldn’t have to keep rearranging things between classes. They had space, and using it was a welcome change. Her father was searching for her, and she was hopping from room to room using the fireplaces. Thankfully the floo network still worked in the unused rooms and she knew enough that every lectern was likely to have a supply of floo powder handy.

She stepped from the latest fireplace and made her way out into the hall. There was a room that she had never seen before, and she was nothing if not curious. She opened the door, twilight streamed through the windows illuminating the dust floating through the air. At one time this had been a dueling chamber. Probably used by the defense department to allow them to teach proper dueling techniques. She spotted something that didn’t belong in the long narrow room, a single mirror stood in its center. It was about six feet tall and gilded, with the words ‘Erised stra ehru oy tube cafru oyt on woshi. Helen shook her head, her dad was forever having her read upside down and backwards, and he loved a good code. The words, I show not your face but your heart’s desire’ were easy enough for her to spot. So, it was a magic mirror. What a strange place to hide a magic mirror.

None of her spells showed any danger and her senses told her it was safe so she stepped in front of it. Her breath caught in her throat as the fog that was around her cleared and her parents stepped forward. A boy that favored her father and a girl that looked like a combination of the two were with them. Then they were all on a beach, the bright sun shining out of the mirror. Next Helen was graduating and her parents were hugging her proudly. Their faces changed from scene to scene. As she watched them grow older with each moment of life. Her wedding, dancing with her father, laughing while her mother helped her dress. The birth of her child, her proud parents glowing over their daughter and granddaughter. Exploring the wonders of the world, hand in hand with her parents. Supporting her mother as her father faded from the world…watching her mother grow dim…standing in Godric’s Hollow over their graves. Then back to the beginning. Summers with her parents, growing with her siblings, time as a family.

She shook her head and stepped back from the mirror. Her heart’s desire indeed. She stepped back in and this time her dad was there with them as they celebrated the holidays. They all wore funny paper hats as they combined their holidays. She settled on the floor, unable to tear her eyes away from the mirror. One image after another, one scene after another… one hope after another. She could feel the tears streaming down her face as she got the clearest view of the future she had lost. The future a madman had stolen from her. She wished it was real. With all her heart she wished it was real, but she knew it wasn’t. Her dad was a dark brooding man who loved her to distraction, and wasn’t her birth father. She had no living mother, only the embrace of a memory that was left in her heart. She could still feel her mother’s love.

The mirror changed again, but this time she was in the nursery with her mother, cradled in her arms. She was singing softly, her voice off-key but beautiful all the same. She drifted off and her mother laid her down in her crib to rest, then she was awakened by loud noise, yelling. Her mother rushed into the room, and he was there. Helen wanted to know what had happened that night, how her mother had died. He stepped into the room, bald and ugly and she almost punched the mirror. Her mother begged for him to stop, no sound, but she could read lips well enough. The bastard laughed. He had the nerve to laugh in her mother’s face as she begged for her daughter’s life. Then the flash of green and her mother stepped into the path. Her face broke in a smile as their eyes locked and then the curse hit baby Helen. But a glow surrounded her, bright and sunshine yellow, for only the briefest moment before the spell washed back at its caster and set his body flying. It fell away like ash on the wind, a hollow scream echoing through the room. The child cried, a raw red cut on her forehead.

Severus found her curled in a ball shaking. He hated that damn mirror. It didn’t show him anything anymore. Perhaps something in his heart had died all those years ago, or maybe he was just too worried about someone else to be concerned with his own desires. Whatever it was anything that showed you what was in your heart was dangerous, especially for a girl who’s hearts greatest desire was to know. But what had it told her, and how many secrets had been laid bare.

He scooped her up into his arms and the death grip she had him in let him know that nothing was well. There wasn’t a thing he could do for her now. She knew too much, and she couldn’t forget. Albus needed to move this damn thing, and he needed to do so today. At least Helen wasn’t likely to return here. She had her answers, and they hurt. But he had no experience to help him help her.

He placed her in her bed and waved his wand. Her pajamas took the place of her day clothes, and he tucked her in, “What did you do, little one?”

Her eyes looked hollow as she almost stared through him, “The truth. I saw how they died, over and over again. It started and even when I looked away it wouldn’t stop playing behind my eyes.”

Severus nodded, “Take the memory out and put it in the pensive. It will allow you distance while you process.”

“It showed me your death as well.”

“I didn’t die,” he growled. “Albus loves to tell people that. When he told me that he had informed you I nearly hit the old man. I was merely knocked unconscious.”

“You can lie to me all you want, I saw it dad. Twelve Death Eaters cast Curcio on you for ten minutes solid. You lay on the ground, your eyes open, not breathing.”

“I was breathing, just very shallowly. But don’t worry about that either way. I am here now. Close your eyes.”

She did as instructed and felt his mind enter hers. She could feel him feeding her thoughts calm, tickling memories of them and the good times. He helped her to layer memories over the trauma, helped her to feel calm, safe, and loved. Her breathing deepened and she could feel sleep coming on. She saw her mother again, but this time she was young and playing on the swings with dad. Sparkles floated behind them as they laughed their way through the air. Helen finally fell asleep, a smile playing about the corners of her lips.

A/N: All things Babylon 5 belong to the Great Maker and I make no money from their use. (Now that I have cast the cover my ass spell, let's move on)