Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Onward into the Breach	By : QueenB Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8401 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in anyway, shape or form. The rights of such belong solely to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money or accrue any monetary benefit on this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
The sea was rushing against rock somewhere nearby but Severus paid no attention to their surroundings. Harry sagged against him and he staggered under the boy’s enlarged frame.
“Harry, relax. I’ve got you. Rest a moment.”
Even with Fenrir’s face, Severus could see the exhaustion and pain that gripped him. “No…we…” Harry swallowed. “We should join the others.”
“I think we should wait until our disguises wear off, don’t you? They might be alarmed to see two known Death Eaters strolling up to their gates,” Snape said dryly.
“I know that. But Ron and Hermione must be worried and Dobby’ll be frantic. We can’t keep them waiting for almost an hour, wondering what’s happened to us. We’ll just have to tell them who we are before they hex us.”
“Very well. Get behind me. We can’t have you getting knocked unconscious, not in your weakened state.”
“I’m fine,” Harry said with a huff. “Besides, how’re you supposed to be a shield? You’re almost three feet shorter than I am now!”
Severus opened his mouth to retort and then scowled. Harry was right again. It was getting to be an aggravating habit.
They walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Bill opened it and went white with rage. “You! You son of a bitch!” he growled.
Shit, he should have expected this. Bill couldn’t be too happy to see the creature that had wrecked his face. Harry threw up his hands. “Bill, it’s me! Harry! I was at your – !”
Bill’s wand was out before the first word. “AVA-”
Harry tackled him, pinning Bill under his massive weight before the man could finish the deadly curse. “Listen to me! The twins were able to open up their joke shop because of the 1,000 Galleons I gave them after winning the Triwizard Tournament. Your mother Molly Weasley knits really hideous sweaters that she gives out every year as gifts.” He lowered his voice so Snape couldn’t hear. “And your dad calls her Mollywobbles.”
Bill’s scarred face twitched at that last statement before he visibly rallied himself. “Oh. You must be Harry, all right. Sorry about that. But you gave me a right turn. Uh, could you get off me now? You’re really heavy,” he wheezed.
“Sure. Sorry.” Harry scrambled to his feet. Lying atop Bill just now, listening to him growl in a voice grown gruff since his attack, had been kinda weird. Harry’s lower limbs were all tingly for some reason.
As he backed away, he added hastily, “By the way, the man behind me isn’t Peter Pettigrew. It’s Snape under Polyjuice. I hope Ron and Hermione managed to tell you all the circumstances about him.”
“Yeah, they may have mentioned it. Gotta tell you, Harry, it’s all really hard to swallow.” Bill stepped aside but not before giving the altered Snape a very critical stare. “Let me go and prepare the others. It’ll be an awful shock to them otherwise.”
“Thanks. How are you holding up?” he asked Snape.
“I suffered a slight burn when Lucius attacked me. I must wait until I change to deal with it, however. Otherwise, it might not be as effective.” Severus rotated his shoulder and grimaced. “I am annoyed at having been caught by such an unsophisticated attack. My shields are usually enough to guard against such injuries.”
“So what happened this time?” Harry asked curiously.
“I was in another person’s skin at the time. It interfered with my natural shields and I didn’t get a chance to erect them in time.”
“Oh.” Harry’s shoulders hunched. “I didn’t know Polyjuice had that effect on people. Sorry.”
Snape awkwardly patted Harry on the arm. It was distinctly odd to have to reach up to touch him. “Don’t blame yourself. You were in a tense situation and constrained by time. You couldn’t be expected to consider all the variables. You got us all out relatively unharmed and rescued all the captives. You did quite well, all things considered.”
Harry blinked and offered a wan smile. Somehow, it held hints of his normal charm in spite of gracing Fenrir’s face. “Thanks. It’s real bizarre this, you giving me a compliment.”
“You’re welcome.” Snape eyed Harry carefully. The man wasn’t as composed as he wished to appear. “Harry, what did you see when you were at Malfoy Manor?”
Harry shook his head and then winced, clearly regretting the motion. “This is something I need to discuss with the others. I don’t want to repeat myself.”
Bill popped out. “You can come in now.”
__________
Harry and Severus entered the living room to see Luna propped up in an overstuffed armchair, blankets tucked around her, while Hermione and Ron sat on the couch next to Dean. Ron still looked like Harry, which made the situation positively surreal.
In spite of Bill’s warning, they still tensed as Harry entered. He waved at them. “Hello again, ‘Mione. Ron. Hi, Dean.”
Dean relaxed but Hermione and Ron didn’t. “Tell me something…” Ron began.
“The first time we met, you had a rat called Scabbers who was always asleep. You tried to turn him butter yellow with a crap wand that had been handed down to you and had the unicorn core showing. We ate Chocolate Frogs and you wanted to know if I had Agrippa because you were collecting the trading cards. Hermione came in and thought that wasn’t much of a spell you were casting and then she took off to help Neville find his toad.”
“That’s all right, then.” Ron sighed. “It’s hard to believe we were all so young and caught up in stuff like card trading. Seems ages ago.”
“Quite, Mr. Weasley. Very commendable of you to double-check. We are living in perilous times.”
“Remember what Mad-Eye Moody always said: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Ron shouted at the same time as Harry.
“Actually, it was Bartemious Crouch, Jr. who said that,” Hermione corrected primly.
Ron rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Betting the real Mad-Eye said it often enough.”
A small shape darted from behind Luna and launched itself at Harry’s knees. “Harry Potter is safe! Dobby was so worried when he didn’t appear at the cottage. Dobby wanted to come back but Harry Potter’s friends would not let him!”
“It’s all right, Dobby.” Harry patted the rounded head awkwardly. Ron was holding back sniggers while Hermione shook her head at the house-elf’s blubbering.
Dean peered at the adoring house-elf. “‘Cor, is he always like that? Harry, I know you’ve got your fans but this is a bit much, isn’t it?”
Ron piped up. “Harry, did you get our wands back?”
He started guiltily. He’d almost forgotten about those. He pulled out the various lengths of wood and watched as the owners claimed their respective wands. Ron beamed and stroked his happily, glad to be reunited with it. Harry only wished his own was in good repair. No other wand had felt quite right since losing his holly and phoenix feather rod.
“Wait, here I go.” Ron shivered and his “Harry” transformation faded away, the familiar red hair and freckles reappearing. He shook his arms and grinned. “Blimey, feels good to be tall again.”
Harry looked at Luna who was watching the proceedings with her usual absentminded calm. He marveled how the girl could remain so serene after what she had undergone. For a Ravenclaw, she was pretty brave. “How are you, Luna?”
“I’m well, thank you. Bill sent an owl to my father letting him know I’m all right.”
“And Ollivander and Griphook?”
“The goblin suffered a little wear and tear, mostly to his legs. But goblins are tough. He’ll survive. It was touch and go with Ollivander there for a bit. He’s not young and he got the worst of it, poor bloke,” Bill said, shaking his head.
“Why were you there anyway, Luna?” Hermione asked curiously.
“My father was printing the truth about Harry when all the other papers were claiming he was Dumbledore’s murderer. The Death Eaters want Harry seen as public enemy number one so no one will side with him or help him. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was really upset about the news from The Quibbler and thought that kidnapping me would silence my father. Do you know if that worked? I’m afraid I haven’t seen a copy of The Quibbler since I was locked up.”
“We haven’t been actually getting newspapers either, Luna, what with being on the run and all,” Harry pointed out.
“‘Allo, everyone!” The lilting voice came from behind them and they all looked up to see Fleur Weasley née Delacour come wafting in.
Severus stared at the sight of the ethereal blonde woman. Harry had mentioned Fleur’s name back in Malfoy Manor but he’d been too upset at the unplanned rescue to pay close attention.
Here was another puzzle. In his world, Fleur Delacour had married Charlie Weasley. What could have affected the shift in her affections in this world? Had the deaths of Harry’s parents altered the threads of other people’s fates so much?
Radiating married serenity, she was carrying a tray covered with a teapot, cups and saucers filled with cakes, biscuits and other delicacies. His stomach rumbled and he was forcefully reminded that he hadn’t eaten since their hasty and not altogether satisfying breakfast. Perhaps her marriage to Bill didn’t matter so much if she came bearing such thoughtful gifts. Shaking off the siren-like effects of her veela ancestry, Severus moved towards the food.
The lovely blonde Frenchwoman laid down the tray. “‘Elp yourselves, all!” She peered uncertainly at Harry. “‘Arree? That is you, isn’t it? Would you like sometheeng more substantial? A rare steak, perhaps?”
“Uh, no. This will be fine, Mrs. Weasley.”
She gave a trilling laugh. “Oh, ‘Arree! Calling me that makes me feel old, like Bill’s mother. You’ve known me for ages now. We are good friends, you and I! Call me Fleur.”
“All right…Fleur.” Harry was getting a sappy dazed look on his face, easily matched by the ones on Ron and Dean’s. Only the other two females in the room seemed unaffected. Luna was engrossed in her tea while Hermione’s lips pinched together, the brown-eyed girl looking very aggrieved.
Severus started when Hermione poked him. “You’re drooling.”
“I most certainly am not,” he stiffened, affronted by the accusation. The sharp movement caused his shoulder to sting again. He had almost forgotten about his injury in the confusion of renewed acquaintances.
Severus dropped his coat, Transfiguring it once again into his own robes. It was awkward and painful removing his shirt to reach the affected limb and he hissed as the cloth abraded his injury. Harry caught the jar in his hand.
“Here, sir. Let me.” With clawed fingers, Harry fumbled at the salve lid.
“Harry, I can manage this myself. I am hardly incapacitated.”
“Well, I still want…oh…” There was an strange note in Harry’s voice. Then his form rippled as the Polyjuice wore off. Soon he was standing there in his own dear form once more.
That meant he would be following shortly. Quickly Transfiguring his clothing to suit his larger frame, he waited until the effects of the Polyjuice had faded. “Are you going to change your clothing back now?” he asked pointedly.
“Oh, right. Yeah.” He realized Harry was once more staring at him. There was a searching look in the Gryffindor’s eyes that disappeared when the teenager noticed he was staring back. Harry quickly re-Transfigured his clothes and the awkward moment passed.
The adolescent mutely beckoned Severus to sit down and rubbed the salve on his bare shoulder. The gesture gave Severus a tingling warmth that had nothing to do with the ointment. Perhaps it meant this Harry wasn’t entirely indifferent to him after all. Or perhaps the youth was simply becoming more comfortable with him.
While he was musing, hardly daring to hope, Harry began to speak, his voice subdued but loud enough to carry to the others in the room. “While we were being captured, I had more visions of You-Know-Who.”
“You did? Oh, Harry…”
“Hermione, don’t nag. He attacked Grindelwald and the old wizard told him he’d been expecting him to show up. But it wasn’t any use. He never had it.”
“Never had what? It’s that mysterious thingy he’s after again?” Ron asked.
“I guess so. Wish I knew what it was.” Harry finished with Severus’s shoulder and capped the jar again.
Luna chimed in. “He’s after the Elder Wand. It’s why poor Ollivander was being tortured. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was making demands on him about finding the unbeatable wand, the one that’s part of the Deathly Hallows.”
Hermione stared at her. “You know about that story?”
“Of course. Every witch and wizard knows. Except for poor Muggle-borns like you, I suppose,” Luna added musingly. Hermione glared but as usual Luna took no notice.
“What story does she mean, Miss Granger?” Severus queried, shrugging on his outer robes.
“It’s from The Tales of Beedle the Bard, a book that Dumbledore left me after he died. It’s silly nonsense, really.”
“You-Know-Who doesn’t think it’s silly and neither does my father,” Luna contradicted calmly. “He believes there are Deathly Hallows and the Elder Wand was part of them.”
Severus Snape’s childhood had not been like that of other children. Frivolities like fairy stories hadn’t been tolerated in his home. “I confess I don’t know what you mean. What story is this?”
Luna cocked her head. “You’ve never heard about it, Headmaster?”
“This is the first mention I’ve heard.”
Hermione recited the bare facts in her typically lecturing tone. “It’s called ‘The Three Brothers’. Three brothers meet Death and each one demanded something from him. One asked for a Wand that would makes its owner invincible in battle. Another asked for a Stone that could conjure up the dead. The third asked for a Cloak that would make him invisible so Death couldn’t find him. The first brother got murdered in his sleep and the wand was stolen. The second brother went mad because he conjured up his dead girlfriend but she was just a pale shade of the woman he knew and he killed himself. The third brother managed to hide from Death for years until he had lived his life to the fullest. Then he laid down his Cloak and let Death take him.”
“What charmeeng leetle fairy tales you English children ‘ave. Simplistic, nothing compared to the intricate subtleties of the French contes, but that is to be expected,” Fleur said, tossing back her fair-colored hair.
Severus considered this recital. “And the Dark Lord believes these artifacts exist?”
“Reckon he does. Although he seems mainly interested in the wand,” Harry said. “When Grindelwald said he’d never had it, You-Know-Who got mad and killed him, the same way he killed Gregorovitch.”
“So with Gregorovitch dead and Ollivander on the injured list, there’s no one to make new wands. The Wizarding world is well and truly skint,” Bill finished grimly.
“Not yet,” Harry murmured.
Bill’s eyes narrowed at the cryptic statement. “Do you have a plan, Harry? No one’s seen you for yonks, not since my wedding, and the rumors have been flying around like crazy. I never believed you killed Dumbledore. But we were all worried sick about you, scared that You-Know-Who might have captured you. What have you been up to all this while?”
Harry shook his head. “I can’t tell you, Bill. Believe me, I’ve been working on the You-Know-Who problem. But it’s something that has to be kept just among us four.”
Four? Severus looked to see Harry staring steadily at him and his heart soared. It was stupid to be so elated from such paltry words. But to know that Harry trusted him and included him amongst his allies made him insanely happy.
“Oh, come on, Harry,” Dean protested. “The whole Wizarding world wants to know where the Boy Who Lived is and what he’s doing. We’re your mates! You can tell us, can’t ya?”
Bill shook his head slowly. “No, he’s right, Dean. It’s on a need-to-know basis, yeah? It was like that when I was working for Gringotts. Everybody has his part to play and it’s best if not everyone is all bogged down with other people’s business. Keeps them from spilling too much if the enemy captures them.
“I’ve been helping from my end. Since our family has been known for years as Muggle sympathizers, we knew it was just a matter of time before we got targeted. We’ve been moving family members to safe houses. We even asked Aunt Muriel to put up some of us.”
“That couldn’t have sat too well with her,” Ron said. “She hasn’t liked us too much since the twins played a practical joke on her.”
“Whatever her personal feelings, we’re family,” Bill stated firmly. “Besides, she doesn’t like the way things are being run nowadays. She was glad to help. I get the feeling she’s just jumping for joy at putting one over You-Know-Who and his thugs.”
“I can help, too. When I get back to my father, we can move someplace safe and set up a new base of operations. The news from The Quibbler will give people hope again,” Luna added.
“Thank you, Luna, Bill. Thanks for the tea, Fleur.” Harry stood from the couch. “Now it’s time we started planning.”
__________
The wandmaker was still out cold in another room, heavily bandaged and sedated. The goblin, however, was wide awake. He eyed the Gryffindor trio and Severus inquiringly.
“You are a strange one, Harry Potter,” he stated, beady black eyes fixed on Harry. “You befriend house-elves. You save a goblin from another wizard’s clutches. You are friends with a werewolf.”
Harry stared. “How do you know about Remus Lupin?”
“Who is Remus Lupin? I refer to your scarred friend downstairs.”
“Bill isn’t a werewolf,” Ron said, frowning.
The goblin shrugged. “He bears the werewolf taint to me. So – what is it you wish of me?”
“We need to break into the bank at Gringotts,” Harry stated without preamble.
“Impossible,” Griphook flatly said, his tone brooking no denial.
Hermione said, “We have to do it. And I’m thinking having you with us will help.”
“You are asking me to compromise my ethics and abet you in stealing from the place of a goblin. Why would I do that?” the goblin hissed in anger.
“You quit working at Gringotts because they were demanding you do things not befitting your station. Remember?” Harry pointed out.
The goblin stared. “How are you privy to that information?”
“Never mind that. Gringotts is under false rule by You-Know-Who’s lackeys. You don’t owe them any loyalty. If you help us, you’ll be bringing down the bastards who’ve bollixed up the system in the first place.”
The goblin thought that over. Then he grumbled, “Nevertheless, it is impossible to steal anything from Gringotts.”
“That’s not true,” Harry contradicted. “Someone broke into a vault my first year at Hogwarts.”
The goblin’s ears twitched, perhaps in embarrassment. “That vault was empty. The thief could not have liberated any item from it. And, needless to say, security has been stepped up since then,” he said stiffly.
“We know about the obstacles,” Ron added. “The Thief’s Downfall, the dragon…”
“Then you know the venture is an impossible one. Only the owner can access his or her vault…”
“We have that covered,” Hermione interrupted.
“They must show their wands as identification.”
“Got that too. Anything else?” Harry asked impatiently.
Griphook shook its head in frustration. “You cannot even gain access to the vaults, not without proper authorization from a goblin and none will give it.”
“That’s where you come in,” Harry said. “So will you help us?”
“Why should I help you? We goblins do not concern ourselves with wizarding wars,” he sniffed in dismissal.
Ron glared at him. “We saved your life, you know. You owe us a life debt.”
The creature sneered. “A concept held among wizards. It holds no force for goblins.”
Severus spoke for the first time since entering the room. “We can offer the sword of Gryffindor.”
At last the goblin appeared interested. “You have the sword?” Griphook asked, greed causing its eyes to glow.
There was silence as the other stared at him. Then Ron exploded. “No! You can’t give the sword away! Dumbledore left it to Harry!”
“To do what, Mr. Weasley? I’m certain none of you know how to wield a sword in battle and I doubt very much whether any Death Eater will allow you close enough to lop off his head,” Severus retorted.
“But what would a goblin do with it?” Hermione asked, her eyes darting to Griphook.
“Especially a goblin who used to be a bank clerk,” Ron groused. “Not exactly a warrior, is he?”
Griphook glared, its black eyes becoming like stones. “It matters not. The sword belongs to goblins,” the creature stated, its gravelly voice becoming hoarser and sounding even more inhuman.
“It’s the sword of Gryffindor. It was given to Godric Gryffindor,” Harry argued.
“But not to keep,” Griphook retorted. “Godric Gryffindor is long dead and the sword should have passed back to the maker after his death. Goblin-made objects are precious and rare. We keep them for ourselves, no matter how humans may covet them. If you wish me to help you, the sword is my fee.”
The Gryffindors pleaded with Griphook but the goblin was adamant. No sword, no help. Finally, Harry reluctantly agreed to give up the sword in exchange for Griphook’s aid.
“Let me see the sword so I know our deal is a sound one,” the goblin demanded.
Pulling open his moleskin bag, Harry drew the sword from it. Griphook grinned, jagged teeth flashing from between fleshless lips. “Excellent! Let us shake hands on the bargain.” Harry extended his hand and the goblin grasped it in a punishingly strong hold. “After I have eaten, we will formulate a plan to trick those fools at Gringotts.”
__________
They withdrew from his room, Ron shooting Severus angry glares that he ignored. When he was sure they were out of earshot of the recuperating goblin, the redhead hissed, “Why’d you have to mention the sword? He didn’t even know we had it until you opened your mouth.”
“Because, unlike you, I understand how goblins think, Mr. Weasley. Goblins have a peculiar sense of ownership. Goblin made, goblin owned. They never simply give objects away. If they do, they think it belongs to the owner only until his or her death.
“However, most human beings treat these goblin-made objects like gifts or precious heirlooms to be passed on tot heir descendants or next of kin. They don’t understand that they must be returned. Goblins therefore look on wizards as being no better than thieves. Offering him the sword was dangling a prize in front of him that he couldn’t resist.”
“But Dumbledore left that sword to me,” Harry fretted. “I even had to dive into a frozen pond for it!”
“And the sword is the only thing we’ve got that can destroy Horcruxes,” Ron added.
“The sword is of little or no use to us, otherwise. Let Griphook have it. His services are far more useful than an unwieldy weapon. Besides, we didn’t say exactly when the goblin could have the sword,” he offered with a bland expression. “We can hold on to it long enough to destroy the remaining Horcruxes. Then he may claim it afterwards.”
Ron and Harry gaped at him. Then the redhead grinned. “Spoken like a true Slytherin, that. Glad you’re on our side, Snape.”
Hermione frowned, her disapproval clear. “I don’t like it. It’s too much like cheating. It’s no wonder goblins think wizards are thieves if that’s the way we act with them.”
“Hermione, please. It’s not like we’re going to keep the sword forever. Griphook can have it when the last Horcrux is trash,” Ron soothed.
“Right now we’ve got more important things to deal with, don’t we? Like robbing a certain bank,” Harry added.
__________
With Severus’s help and Griphook’s generous input, their plans to rob Gringotts were even more detailed than their run on the M.O.M. had been. Over the next four days, Severus grilled them ruthlessly so they each knew what parts they should play.
Easter holiday would not last forever. Soon Severus would be expected back at Hogwarts. Any delay in his appearance there would look deeply suspicious. So far he had not been implicated in the escape from the Malfoys. He had to make certain his part in overthrowing Voldermort remained undetected as always.
Harry stopped in with Ollivander when he’d awakened briefly. He then proceeded to ask the injured wandmaker several sharp questions, surprising in their complexity. Severus listened in silent approval as Harry sought to understand the connections between wands and their wizards.
“So Draco’s wand should work for me?” Harry murmured, twirling the hawthorn stick in his fingers.
“Indeed it will, young Harry,” Ollivander murmured. There was an unhealthy grayish tinge to his skin and he spoke more slowly than was usual. But his mind seemed clear enough.
Harry showed him the pieces of his broken wand. “Can you fix this?”
Ollivander looked at the shards. “This damage is far too extensive. Some of this is nothing more than splinters. What have you been doing with it?”
“There was an explosion and I barely escaped with my life. Hermione was able to keep the pieces of my wand. I was just hoping something could be done.”
The pale eyes peered fearfully at him. “Even if I was in better health, it’s impossible. There are some things that can’t be fixed. I am sorry, Harry.”
Ollivander sounded very afraid. Perhaps his experience at the hands of Voldemort had made him uneasy about enraging powerful wizards. Harry smiled feebly at him. “It’s alright, Mr. Ollivander. I guess Draco’s wand will have to do.”
His Harry would have been sorely aggrieved at the loss of his wand. This Harry merely tucked away the pieces and proceeded to work with Draco’s wand. It proved very amenable to his commands, performing more or less perfectly whatever spell Harry cast from it.
However, Miss Granger was having poor success with Bellatrix’s wand. She complained about her lack of progress until Harry pointed out that the wand was just for show, anyway. She was going to be performing with her own wand, if she needed to.
Severus thought this a fitting occasion to drill them all. There was little enough time to cram necessary knowledge into their skulls. He was determined to make the most of it.
He had Harry and his friends practicing defense against Dark magic on the beach. It was the ideal place, with plenty of space to maneuver and soft sand to land on if any of them were toppled by spells. Severus insisted they all learn wandless and wordless magic. He taught them spells to blind, to deafen, to bewilder, to crush bone and shatter eardrums. They learned to take on multiple assailants.
They each proved surprisingly adept students. Even Miss Lovegood demonstrated she was more than capable of learning extreme hexes and counter-measures to be made against them.
But the one who most astounded him was Harry. Even if he wasn’t in Slytherin, he proved to have enormous wells of strength, speed and cunning. He learned spells quickly, improvised on the fly and was swift to retaliate from increasingly vicious hexes and curses. Miss Granger was the smartest of them, to be sure. But Harry was the most skilled. Severus was quite impressed.
Harry beamed at his praise though he would give him quizzical looks at times. But the shaggy-haired Gryffindor had no problems with critique. He only listened patiently as Severus explained his mistakes and sought eagerly to correct them.
In spite of the grim reality underlying their practice, these were blissful hours for the Slytherin Potions master. It was closeness almost akin to intimacy with his beloved.
__________
It was strange how idyllic and peaceful this place was. Severus knew unfortunates were being herded into the Ministry, never to be seen again. Mudbloods and Harry-sympathizers were being attacked and likely killed in raids. Snatchers were roaming to pick up anyone considered a rebel. Terrible things were happening elsewhere.
But here it was as though they were on holiday. The fresh sea air, the peaceful surroundings and relative quiet were truly refreshing for all of them. Under Fleur’s ministrations, the harried trio slowly regained strength and some of their lost weight. Ron in particular was eager to take advantage of her generous supplies of meals.
“I’m sure ‘Ermione did the best she could. But the English really don’t know how to cook,” she said with a smile when he praised her food.
The only sour note was the constant beady-eyed vigilance from Griphook. They could not congregate anywhere for more than two minutes without his bony fingers appearing around a door and pushing himself in to the room to listen to them. The goblin disbelieved them about the bargain with the sword and made no bones about showing it.
One afternoon, after a quick lunch in the kitchen, Severus found himself alone with Harry for the first time since the daring rescue from the Malfoys. Harry sat slumped at the kitchen table, exhaustion clouding his eyes. In spite of his obvious tiredness, he was perusing a thick book that lay on the table.
“Harry, what is that?”
He grimaced. “It’s called The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore by none other than Rita Skeeter.”
“Rita Skeeter. I see.” Severus had perused some of her articles about Harry and they’d put him in a very vile mood. He had proven a true terror to loitering children after reading some of trash she’d written about the so-called Boy Who Lived. “I had no idea she’d taken up novel writing.”
“Yeah, well, she waited until after Dumbledore was dead before printing this stuff. Maybe she was worried about what he’d do to her if she’d ever tried it while he was alive.”
“Why would you even read anything that nasty creature wrote?”
Harry bit his lip. It was clear the subject was upsetting him. “It’s just – not all of it are lies. Did you know he had a brother called Aberforth and a sister called Ariana?”
“No. The Albus of my world didn’t discuss such personal topics with me.” Come to think of it, he’d never asked. While he was fond of the old man, he saw him as more of a mentor than a close friend.
“The book describes her as a Squib and that…Dumbledore was upset about that. He also teamed up with Grindelwald at one point. They were…friends.”
“Friends? That’s impossible, Harry. Surely that must be the most errant falsehood.” Severus had never heard such an invidious story against Albus and he could feel his face flushing with anger.
“No. They knew each other, all right. They’d had this idea of leading the Wizarding world together and using their powers to help mankind – or rule it. Just for its own good, of course,” Harry finished. His tone was laced with bitterness.
“Harry, this cannot be true.” He heard the denial in his voice, equal parts dismissal and condemnation.
“Isn’t it? There were pictures of them together. But something happened. They had a row or something and Dumbledore’s sister got killed. Then Dumbledore decided to turn his back on Grindelwald. I guess it explains some of the things he’s done throughout the years.”
“What things?”
“Hiring outcasts like Hagrid after he was banned from doing magic and a werewolf like Remus Lupin in school. He even hired Firenze to teach Divination after Trelawney was sacked.”
“Firenze?” Severus didn’t remember any such person.
“He’s a centaur. He’s an outcast, too. The other centaurs turned on him so Dumbledore gave him a job.”
“Indeed.” Severus’s mind whirled while he tried to make sense of this. The Dumbledore of this world struck him as being as kind and barmy as his own. But he clearly had a hidden agenda stemming from an unhappy past of which he knew nothing.
He glanced at the thick tome in front of the Gryffindor. He itched to read it himself but it was hardly a short read, given its size. Perhaps there would be time to read it in the foreseeable future…provided they all survived.
For the moment, his concern bent on Harry again. The youth needed a respite from his quest and Severus had the perfect idea.
“Harry, would you care to join me for a stroll on the beach?”
“What? Now?”
“Can you think of a better time? Let us take advantage of this rare moment of tranquility.”
Harry nodded, then graced him with a tentative smile. The youngster seemed to smile so seldom. It gave Severus a sense of achievement whenever he managed to coax one out of him.
__________
“You’re really not like the Snape I know. He’d never suggest a walk on the beach. Especially with me.”
Severus opened the front door and they descended to the sandy shore. He kept a keen eye on his surroundings, which meant looking at Harry as well. “I understand you and I aren’t exactly friends in this world.”
Harry sighed. “That’s an understatement. My dad and his mates treated you really bad when you were kids. My dad was particularly rotten to you, though I’m not sure why. So you hated him when he was alive. You hated him after he was dead, too. When I came along, you transferred your hatred on to me.” Harry grimaced and kicked at an inoffensive piece of driftwood.
“I can’t imagine why.”
“I think it’s because you saw my father every time you looked at me.”
“Truly? I’ve always felt you took after your mother,” Severus said softly. “You remind me of her, with your green eyes, your caring manner, the dimples that appear in your cheeks whenever you smile. You even inherited her ability with potions.”
Harry stared at Severus as if he’d never seen the man before. “Ooookay. Definitely not the Snape I remember. I’m pants at potions. He always said so. And he’d never talk about my…dimples.” A blush stained Harry’s cheeks. Even his ears seemed to light up.
He quickly resumed walking. “It’s so hard to believe: alternate universes, my mum and Dumbledore alive, you acting like you’ve grown a heart.”
“I’m sorry my counterpart was so vicious to you. At least now we have a chance to amend matters.” He stuck out his hand. “How do you do? I’m Severus Snape, Potions master extraordinaire. My friends call me…Severus.”
This time Harry let out a distinct laugh, his whole face lightening up, the emerald eyes brimming with humor. The tension and strain dropped away and for a bare moment he was revealed for the incredibly young man that he was.
“Oh, that felt good. Can’t remember the last time I laughed or felt like it.” He rubbed his eyes and clasped Severus’s hand. “Hello. I’m Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you.”
“The famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived? May I have your autograph?” Severus asked, while pressing his hand against his heart in mock excitement, which only set Harry off again.
When he was calm again, Severus mused, “Do you really set any credence in this talk of the Hallows, Harry?”
“I don’t know. Then again, once I didn’t believe in wizards or dragons either. Luna seems to think the Hallows are real.”
“A ringing endorsement for their validity,” Severus replied ironically. Miss Lovegood got fine grades on her tests. But her vagueness and insistence on invisible creatures no one else could see made Severus skeptical about her connection to the real world.
“Don’t knock Luna’s theories,” Harry warned. “She’s been right too often for me to dismiss her. She may be a little barmy but she’s not a complete nutter…like Bellatrix.”
An ugly tone crept into Harry’s voice. Severus had been hearing it every time he spoke of Narcissa’s sister. “What particular grudge do you have against Bellatrix, Harry?”
Harry picked up a small stone from the beach and skipped it into the ocean. He didn’t answer for several seconds. Then he spoke in a voice so low Severus had to strain to hear it. “She killed my godfather.”
He couldn’t have heard aright. “She did what?”
“She murdered Sirius Black. In my fifth year at Hogwarts.” He looked at Severus inquiringly. “Is Sirius…alive in your world?”
Severus nodded, still in shock. “Yes, he is. Bellatrix remains safely incarcerated in Azkaban. She has not been in any contact with Sirius since then.”
“Oh. That’s…good.” Harry picked up another pebble but didn’t throw it, only turned it over and over again in his fingers. Sadness stamped his features with severe creases in his forehead and around his lips. “Do you…how is… What is Sirius like with you?”
“He and I don’t get along as well as I did with your father. But he is very much alive and cohabitating quite cozily with Lupin.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “He’s with… Are you saying the two of them are – ?”
“Lovers? Ever since leaving Hogwarts. It was quite a shock to hear from Bellatrix that the Lupin of this world had married her niece Nymphadora Tonks. I had wondered what Black made of that. No one had informed me of his death in this realm. I suppose Albus didn’t see fit to mention it to me.”
He could see this information had left Harry stunned. “So two men getting together is not a big deal among wizards?” Harry asked at last with exaggerated unconcern.
“The Wizarding world is quite tolerant of such things, Harry. We do not suffer the bigotry of Muggles.” Such curiosity. Could Harry have more than casual interest in the subject? “Have you felt such leanings yourself, Harry?” he asked, striving for a lightness he was far from feeling.
“Me? No, never! I’m…I mean, what gave you that idea?”
Hmm, the man protested just a little too much. “You seemed curious about Sirius and Lupin just now. I thought, perhaps…”
“No thinking about that! I’m not gay! I’ve got a girlfriend – Ginny Weasley.”
His heart plummeted like a stone. “Ronald Weasley’s sister?”
Harry nodded vigorously, his hair flopping with the force of his enthusiasm. “That’s right. She’s been fond of me for years and we’ve been getting cozy since my sixth year. We’re going to get married as soon as all this mess with You-Know-Who is over.”
Severus said nothing, ice settling into his chest. So the Harry of this world meant to marry a redheaded witch just like his father before him. Well, why shouldn’t he? He knew nothing of this greasy Potion master’s feelings and they had been enemies for years.
But his Harry was completely and utterly attracted to men. He couldn’t have changed that much!
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he muttered between clenched teeth.
“You seem kinda… I don’t know. Your face has gone white.”
“I’m quite all right. I’m simply used to my dungeons. Sea air doesn’t quite agree with me.”
“So how come you wanted to go for a walk?”
“Well, I could hardly have suggested a trip to France, now could I?” he snarled.
“Guess not.” Harry peered at him closely. “You know, you sounded an awful lot like my Snape just now.”
How I wish I could be your Snape. There went his dream, now and forever. Severus struggled to get his features back under control. More than ever he couldn’t let Harry know of his foolish hopes.
They walked on farther before he trusted himself to speak coolly once more. “Harry, how long have you been having visions of the Dark Lord?”
If Harry was thrown by the abrupt change in subject, he didn’t show it. “Pretty much since my fourth year at Hogwarts. They’re not constant. Like I said, it’s only when he’s really emotional. I usually see him when he’s hurting people…or killing them,” he finished in an undertone. “This year, I’ve been getting them almost every day, on and off.”
Severus heard the unspoken thread of pain underlying that simple statement. “And this scar connects you,” he murmured. He reached out to rush back Harry’s bangs. This time the teenager didn’t pull away from his touch.
“Yes. I think…I might be one of the missing Horcruxes.”
Severus’s hand stilled. “What?”
“If You-Know-Who gave me part of his soul when he attacked me as a baby, then this scar makes me a Horcrux. That means I have to die. Hermione and Ron haven’t figured that out yet and they mustn’t find out. They’d go spare.”
Where had the boy come up with this nonsense? Severus’s calm vanished to be replaced by a now-familiar sensation of exasperation. “They needn’t know because it’s utter rubbish. This is fallacious reasoning on your part.”
“No. I spoke to Dumbledore about this. He said I had to be prepared to do what needs to be done. I realized yours ago that this scar connected You-Know-Who and me. I just didn’t get what it meant until recently.”
“Harry, you are not meant to die,” Severus snapped.
“Aren’t I? You heard the prophecy – Oh, wait. You probably didn’t. You didn’t betray my family. The other Snape did.”
Damn, it hurt hearing this again. More and more Severus was beginning to hate his counterpart. He couldn’t begin to conceive of what could have driven that Snape to betray his best friends, Lily and James. Even if he had cared naught for them, how could the other Snape have condemned an innocent baby to death?
“What…what was this prophecy you mentioned?” he questioned, swallowing against the sudden tightness in his throat.
“I only heard it once. It was kinda long and I don’t remember all the details. Something about the Dark Lord marking me as his equal and… Oh, yeah, either must die at the hand of the other. Neither can live while the other does. I guess that means if he dies, I die and vice versa. So the only way to finish him in the end is if I die.” Harry stopped and sat down on a rock. He appeared no more concerned by the conversation than if he’d been discussing the best spot to fish.
“Why would you tell me this when you haven’t even told your friends?” Severus demanded.
“Like I said, it would hurt them to know. They care about me even if I haven’t always appreciated them for it. I wanted someone to be able to tell them that I knew what was going to happen and that I wasn’t afraid. That I was happy to do this if it meant saving my friends and everybody I care about.”
Harry peered sideways at him before looking out to sea again. “You don’t care about me, not like that, so it won’t bother you as much.”
Bitter pain lanced through Severus. Harry truly thought he didn’t care about him? Well, how could he when Severus hadn’t confessed his true feelings?
He stared at the averted countenance. Harry had to be wrong. He couldn’t be under some ludicrous death sentence. Albus would have informed him about this.
No, the old bastard wouldn’t. This would be just the sort of intelligence the sly codger would hide, blast him. He had, after all, forbidden Severus to have any contact with Harry. If he’d had the adolescent’s welfare firmly in mind, he would have insisted the former Potions master help him avoid this fate.
What cruel joke was being played by the universe to shunt him into a world so racked with terror and lunacy? Here was his beloved Harry, marked for death by an inane prophecy that his other self had revealed to a maniacal Dark Lord, and Albus Dumbledore colluded in this plot against Harry’s life.
But he was here now. He didn’t hate Harry and he would not lose him the way James had been lost.
Perhaps this was why he had been sent here. His other self obviously didn’t give a tinker’s curse about this poor beleaguered Gryffindor speaking so calmly about his own impending death. That Severus would be all too happy to let Harry traipse to his doom. But he cared and he was going to be damned if he’d let his precious one die when he could prevent it.
He reached out, snagged that chin. He tilted the startled face up to his and bent down until his breath brushed Harry’s lips.
“You are not going to die, Harry. That Snape no longer exists. For the sake of James and Lily, I can do no less than shield their only son. I am here and I will protect you with all my body and soul. You have my word on that.”
The green eyes were enormous as the Gryffindor absorbed this vow. “Oh. Well, t-that’s good. I’m very grateful, sir.”
“Severus. If we are to be so intimately connected from now on, I prefer you to call me by my name.”
Harry’s gulp was audible. “That’s asking a bit much…”
“I really like the sea air. It helps keep away the Nargles,” came a serene voice from behind them.

TBC
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Onward into the Breach