Chapter 11
Lily Potter's Diary
January 12, 1981
My life is a nightmare. James and Sirius don't even bother to try to hide their relationship anymore, unless Remus or Peter are around. I've taken to listening at doorways before walking into a room, just to avoid getting an eyeful of things I'd rather not see.
I never thought that I would be so cowardly, but there's nothing I can do to retaliate against James if he decides to do something against me; the Family Magic won't allow me to do anything to harm the Head. He, however, could easily decide to dispose of me, or lock me away. I can't do anything that will risk Harry being taken away from me. I'll endure anything I have to in order to stay with and protect my son.
I've retreated into my own little world, just to give myself hope. I imagine that I listened when Severus tried to apologise in fifth year (something I've genuinely regretted for a long time - curse my pride and stubbornness), and we continued in the way I'd hoped our relationship was heading before that horrible day. I imagine that our wedding was small and intimate rather than the circus James insisted on; and we had a cottage on the moors with a little orchard and vegetable garden, and maybe a greenhouse for Sev's potions ingredients. In my dream, Harry is his, and he loves us both dearly. I imagine that James and Sirius, hell, maybe even Dumbledore (I don't trust that he didn't have something to do with all this, though I have no evidence) kidnapped us, and Harry and I are just waiting for Severus to come rescue his family.
I know that I'm fooling myself, but my fantasies are the only thing keeping me sane right now…
Severus stared into the fire pensively, the copied diary resting on his lap. He wasn't sure how to feel. The idea of his Lily sitting in the nursery with an infant Harry while thinking these things left him… He wasn't sure. Bitter? Wistful? Angry? All of the above, and a few more for good measure, perhaps.
How was he supposed to react? It was obvious that this was the part that Potter had intended him to read, but why? The boy already had an adopted father, and didn't seem to be wanting Severus to fill that role. Just what was the boy's game?
Standing, he pulled a robe over his pants and linen shirt. He needed to walk while he thought about this.
Connor was bouncing in excitement as he waited for his Sir.
He'd been asleep the last few times Harry had visited, but he'd been told that this visit was specifically to spend time with him, no work allowed. He'd had a nap earlier in the day, and was now wide awake so that he'd be ready to do some stargazing, just like he and Sir used to do sometimes before Harry had to go away to school.
Seeing the older boy appear, he threw himself into Sir's arms, smiling widely.
"You're here!" He crowed, dancing around and pulling on Harry's captured hand.
"I am," Harry agreed with a tolerant smile, green eyes softening at his boy's exuberance.
"I had a nap today, and I ate all my dinner, and I did all my homework like Alex said I had to, and Sergei let me off training for the day so I wouldn't be too tired tonight, and Shot played checkers with me, and I drew you a picture, see?" Connor brandished a piece of paper in Harry's face, then whisked it away again before he could actually get a look at it. "And I've been practicing my piano every day for at least an hour, even when I'm really tired! And I've been spending time with the Ghosts and Nestlings and helping Elise with her dancing, because she hates that, and I've been spending some time with Lizzie in the garage, she's nearly finished rebuilding the engine of her car, how cool is that?"
Connor continued to babble away, bouncing around Harry as he walked them out to the back lawn.
The elves had maintained the lawn with their usual attention to detail, the grass perfectly manicured and the flowers delicately scenting the night air. There weren't as many as usual, given that it was approaching winter, but what few were blooming were beautiful to see.
The boy beamed when Harry cast a warming charm on him, making sure to bundle him up in a warm jacket and blanket before they settled on the rug spread on the lawn.
Connor settled with his head next to his Sir, their feet in opposite directions. Sighing happily, he listened as the older boy began pointing out constellations, and told him stories about each of them. Sir always told the best stories.
Harry was sitting in the Great Hall, picking disinterestedly at some scrambled eggs and toast. His sleep deprivation and near constant use of potions to keep himself alert and functioning was playing havoc with his appetite. Sighing, he left his fork on the plate and discretely pulled the vial of diluted venom from his pocket, dropping the required dose into his goblet of water. He watched as Draco did the same, sipping at the cool liquid.
"What was that?" Zabini - Blaise, Harry corrected himself - asked.
"What was what?" Draco blinked.
Blaise gave him a withering look.
"The potion you just put in your goblet. Harry had some too. What is it?"
Harry shrugged, and forked a small bite of eggs into his mouth.
"It's an immune booster my Healer wanted me to take. Someone tried to poison me before I came here, and it did some damage. My Healer suggested Draco take some too, since it wouldn't hurt, and it might help if someone tried to poison me again since Draco's so close to me all the time, you know?"
Blaise narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head.
"Is it likely that people around you will be hurt?"
Harry could see the other Slytherins listening closely, even as they pretended they weren't.
"Not likely, no, but it's possible. On my own, my fame makes me a target in this world, but in the muggle world people try to use me to get to my father. He's really paranoid, and super protective of me, so things like immune boosters are pretty much par for the course. Including Draco is just his way of showing he cares."
He could see the others processing this, and adjusting their mental notes and plans accordingly. Before anyone could question him further, the morning post began flooding into the hall with a flurry of feathers and hooting.
He was surprised when he saw Minerva swoop down towards him, landing lightly on his shoulder. Glaring around the table she gave a haughty hoot and stuck out her leg imperiously.
Draco offered her a full rasher of bacon while Harry untied the letter and slipped it into the inner breast pocket of his robes. Pulling his hand back quickly when she snapped the meat from his fingers, the blond edged away slightly. He'd been trying to win her affections, or at least tolerance since first being introduced to her, but she was unusually stubborn in her dislike of pretty much everybody.
"Dude, what's up with your owl?" Blaise eyed her warily. "It's gorgeous, but it looks like it's about to give me detention or something."
Harry shrugged his free shoulder casually.
"Like all owls, she's a flying pillow of seething hatred; she's just more obvious about it. As for looking like she'll give you detention, that's why her name is Minerva McGonagowl." He smirked when several upper years choked, or snorted into their goblets.
A muffled cough behind him let him know that Professor Snape had passed by, just in time to hear his comment. Oops.
"Mr Potter," the Potions Master drawled, "please come and see me after your classes today."
Harry nodded respectfully.
"Do I need to bring anything with me, Sir?"
"No, I merely wished to follow up on our last discussion."
"I see," Harry nodded, green eyes observing the dour Professor carefully. "I'll be there about fifteen minutes after classes end. Is that acceptable?"
Receiving a curt nod, Harry turned back to his breakfast, mind racing as he tried to plan ahead for as many potential outcomes as possible. This should prove to be interesting.
Harry was walking down the hall after Charms, heading back to the dorms to drop off his bag before going to see Snape as requested.
He'd begged off study group, claiming that he didn't know how long the meeting would take, but encouraged the others to meet and work together regardless. He'd been surprised when Neville had stepped up, rounding up the other Gryffindor's and ushering them to the library ahead of the Slytherins. Though given that Weasley and Finnigan had been in fine form today, it might have been his way of getting Hermione and Dean away from them before the muggleborn girl snapped and slugged the redhead in the face. Judging by her stormy expression, it might have been closer than anyone had realised.
Seeing the more interesting of the Weasley children ahead of him, he quickened his pace, and called out.
"Weasley's! Might I have a moment of your time?"
The twins turned to look at him, identical smirks sliding across their faces.
"Well, if it isn't-"
"The ickle Potter! What-"
"Can we do for-"
"One so illustrious as-"
"Yourself?" They traded off, finishing together.
Harry rolled his eyes and grinned.
"Just for the record, that doesn't work on me; I can tell the two of you apart. But there was a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about, if you have a minute?"
"Nobody can-"
"Tell us apart." The twins scoffed.
"Not even our own mother."
Harry pointed at the twin on his left.
"You're Fred," and the twin on his right, "and you're George."
The twins blinked in surprise, then bent at the waist to lean uncomfortably close to Harry's face, examining him with fascination.
"How can you tell?" They demanded in unison.
Harry raised an eyebrow and flicked them both in the forehead, causing them to rear back.
"Sorry, but you were sucking the oxygen right out of my personal space. Anyway, it's easy to tell you apart if you actually take the time to look; not even identical twins are ever really identical. But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you noticed the way your youngest brother has been acting towards Hermione, Neville, and Dean? Not to mention Draco and Blaise."
The twins nodded, dropping the playful air.
"We have. We've also seen and heard-"
"What he's been doing to you. We've-"
"Got to say, you have more-"
"Patience than we would in-"
"Your situation."
Harry nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment.
"I understand that this might be putting you in a difficult position, but I thought it only fair to warn you that he's crossing dangerous lines. His comments and actions caused Hermione to be nearly killed by a troll, and he's come dangerously close to causing insult to four Ancient and Noble Houses, and that's not even factoring in that Hermione is under the protection of House Longbottom. I understand that he's only eleven, but if he doesn't pull his head in, he's going to end up disgracing your family name, and that will affect the rest of you. I've seen your older brother call him on it when he overhears something, but I was hoping that if you were to support Percy in that it might be enough to get through to Ron? And where he goes, Finnigan will follow."
The twins frowned, glancing at each other.
"There really isn't-"
"Much we can do-"
"But we'll try. You-"
"Said you have a couple-"
"Of things you wanted-"
"To talk about? What-"
"Else was there?"
Harry glanced at his watch, he was cutting it close.
"I have a study group, I'm sure you've heard Ron ranting about it; I'd like to invite you to join us. Cedric Diggory has said he might join us too, but I think he's reluctant since there isn't anyone closer to his age in the group. That said, I checked your rankings and saw that you were both struggling a little with Herbology. Neville's a genius at that, and could probably help you if you're willing. We all help each other, and study ahead, as well as any supplementary topics that catch our interest."
The twins considered him thoughtfully.
"You checked our rankings?" They asked.
"Sounds like-"
"You're scouting-"
"Us for something!"
Harry blinked, blasé.
"I am."
Leaving the dumbfounded twins staring after him, Harry made his way down the hallway and into the dungeons. He'd already determined that the twins wouldn't fall for his usual manipulations, much like Blaise wouldn't. In both cases, he'd need to be more direct. Still, he could work with that; having intelligent minions might be a little more work, but at least they were capable of independent action when it was needed. It was just a matter of winning their loyalty, and then keeping it.
Another glance at his watch had him turning towards Snape's office, rather than the dorms. He hadn't factored a conversation with the twins into his time estimate, and he didn't want to be late.
Knocking on the door, he waited until he heard the invitation to enter, and opened the door. Stepping through, he nodded a greeting to the older man.
"Did you want the door open or closed for this conversation?" He asked politely.
"Closed, if you please, Mr Potter." Snape said. "This is a highly private conversation and I'd rather not risk it being overheard."
Nodding, Harry quietly shut the door and walked over to the desk.
Harry slowly drew his wand, making sure to not point it anywhere near the suddenly tense man opposite.
"May I cast a few privacy charms? I find it never hurts to be careful."
Snape nodded in agreement, and cast a few of his own once Harry was finished.
He waited until Snape invited him to sit, and settled himself regally in the chair, hands folded comfortably over his stomach. He waited.
Snape studied the boy for a long moment.
"Tea?"
Harry smiled and nodded.
"Yes, please." He watched as Snape summoned an elf, then poured the tea once the little creature had returned with a tray almost bigger than it was. Like most elves, it had over catered, adding scones and clotted cream, a little pot of strawberry jam, a plate of assorted biscuits, and some little triangle sandwiches with the crusts removed. Harry couldn't tell what the fillings were, but it looked like an assortment of cucumber, egg salad, and salmon.
"How do you like it?"
"Black, one sugar, thank you."
Harry took the offered tea cup, along with the plate that Snape had filled with a sampling of the treats. He placed the plate on the front edge of the desk and sipped his tea. He let the silence draw out, both men sipping their drinks while they observed each other.
Eventually Snape realised that Harry wasn't going to be drawn, and sighed, setting his cup and saucer down.
"I read the diary," he began. "I'm not entirely certain what you hoped to achieve."
Harry shrugged, nibbling on a sandwich.
"In all honesty, not much. I'd been looking for a reason for your animosity towards me, with a mind to either mitigate or eradicate the cause. I'd heard that you were on a similar intellectual level to me, and I was hoping to find a way for us to be conversant, even if being friends wasn't a possibility. Your comment about my eyes led me to believe I might find the source of friction between us in my mother's journals. While I'm still unsure of what the problem is exactly, I thought you might find the contents of that journal interesting. And so, here we are." He sipped his tea.
Snape chewed his own sandwich slowly, considering the boy's words.
"The problem is your resemblance to your father. James Potter was a bully of the worst sort, along with his group of friends. They called themselves The Marauders." He sneered, remembering.
"Ah," Harry nodded. "I see. I gathered from Lily's journals that the two of you were rather close at one point, but something happened - I don't know the details - that caused a falling out. Your almost girlfriend taking up with your bully would understandably cause some friction, especially when you're confronted with the spawn of that union. Doubly so, considering the resemblance to the unpleasant side of that relationship."
"Quite," Snape murmured.
Silence fell once more, broken only by an offer and acceptance of a tea refill.
"Professor," Harry mused, "may I be blunt?"
Snape nodded.
"My father researched all of the staff at Hogwarts thoroughly before I ever set foot on the grounds. I was given a brief overview of the main players here, and your name was brought to my attention as more than a fellow super brain." He smirked at Snape's huff at the description. "It seems to me that you're trapped here, with your talents wasted. I can only assume that it has something to do with the prophecy and your former service to the Dark Lord. Oh, don't look so surprised. The former was written out in full in Lily's diary, and the latter is not as well buried as you might hope, if one knows where to look. For the record, I don't care." He paused to sip his tea and let Snape process the shock of having his secrets discussed so openly. "I theorize that you were pressed into working at Hogwarts at Dumbledore's request, supposedly to position you so that if the Dark Lord returns, you'll be perfectly placed to spy? I'll leave out who you're spying for, since again, I really don't care. You could work for either or both, it doesn't make a difference. Am I right?" He waited until Snape grudgingly nodded, then smiled, his teeth glinting in the dim light. "How would you like to be free of all that?"
Snape eyed the boy warily.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Firstly, regardless of any other offers I make, I would like to extend a formal apology as Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, for the actions of James Potter against Severus Snape, then Heir, now Head of the Noble House of Prince. As compensation, House Potter will offer private funding for potions research for the duration of Severus Snape's lifetime, to a value of fifty thousand Galleons per annum."
Snape found himself gaping, and quickly snapped his mouth shut. Even the Minister of Magic only made twenty thousand Galleons per annum. Well, before bribes, at least.
"House Prince accepts your apology and offer of compensation." He bowed his head slightly, feeling lighter than he had in years. His treatment at the hands of Potter had been a large source of bitterness and anger for him for a long time, and to finally have his suffering acknowledged… He took a deep breath, allowing the magics of the Potter and Prince families to sooth the hurts that had festered for so long. The formal apology offered from a Head of House, and the acceptance of such, wouldn't allow for any anger over that issue to linger. It was quite literally over and done with, provided Potter kept to the terms of the compensation. A compensation which was beyond generous, if he was being honest.
"What did you mean by any other offers? What more could you possibly offer?"
"Would you like a way out from under Dumbledore's thumb, and possibly the Dark Lord's as well?"
Severus blinked. In all of his wildest imaginings, he'd never anticipated something like that.
"Explain."
"I can set up a new identity for you. Papers, history, appropriate qualifications, and bank accounts. I can also arrange for any additional training you might like your new identity to have, as well as any physical adjustments to help conceal your identity. If you want, that can be the end of it. Alternatively, you, or your new identity, can work for me."
Severus choked on his scone, coughing roughly.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? For a moment I thought you offered me a job."
Harry smiled serenely.
"Why in Merlins name would you offer me a job? And doing what?"
"I assume you're familiar with the names Alexander Charleston, Sergei Petrikov, and Marcel Blanca?"
"Yes?" Snape responded, feeling a little faint.
"They work for me. As for what you would be doing, that's entirely up to you. I have a large network, I'm sure we can find something that interests you. It's in no way mandatory, I might add. You're in no way obligated to join my network, though I think you'd enjoy many of the benefits."
"Nobody offers something like this without expecting something in exchange, and I don't mean the job offer. What do you want?"
Harry grinned. "I knew I'd like you once we got all that awkward teenage trauma out of the way. The Potter family will sponsor your new future, either directly or through another name if you don't wish to be associated. We will fund you, support you, provide you with everything you could ever need to do what you do best; develop new potions and spells. And all I want in exchange is one percent of the royalties, for as long as you are accepting our patronage. Obviously, should you choose to leave our sponsorship behind, we will retain the one percent of any royalties you earned on potions or spells while under it, just not anything you develop after that. I think that's more than reasonable, don't you?"
A pregnant silence fell, while Snape tried to wrap his mind around the offer, and find any loopholes in it that might be used to trap him the way Dumbledore had. He couldn't find any.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Why would Petrikov and Charleston work for you? Or Blanca, for that matter? What do you have them doing?"
Harry smiled enigmatically.
"Ah, but that would be telling," he put his cup down, and stood, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. Pulling out a business card, he placed it face down on the desk, exactly halfway between them. "If you decide you're interested in the job, the contact details are on the card. If you decide you only want help escaping the various pinning thumbs, owl me a Thornapple flower. I'll have someone contact you to negotiate details."
"Datura stramonium?" Snape smirked. "How apt."
Harry smirked back.
"I thought so."
Grabbing a handful of leftover biscuits, he dispelled the privacy charms with a flick of his wand, winked, and strolled from the room as if he hadn't just turned a man's world upside down.
It wasn't until ten minutes later than Snape realised that he'd never even gotten around to the real reason he'd asked Harry to come see him.
Harry portkeyed into the open stone courtyard at Sanctuary and took a deep breath of the cool air. As much as he liked Fortress, Sanctuary was home. The black and white river stones crunched and clinked underfoot as he made his way inside, the wards and defences built into them licking at his magic and retreating once they recognised him. Narcissa had put in some basic security, but Alex and Sergei had turned the stonework into a death-trap for anyone not authorised.
Warthog prowled beside him, silent for once. She could feel his tension, and recognised that now was not the time for quips and snark. Tonight, Vahan was all business.
Shot and his Hounds were sitting at the dining table, the men watching Shot devour yet another sugar loaded concoction that would send anyone else into a diabetic coma. Harry glanced at it and wrinkled his nose, electing to get straight to business.
Waving a piece of parchment, he walked into his office, his people following him obediently.
"I got your letter," he sat in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk. "How bad is it?"
Alex grimaced.
"Not as bad as it could be, but worse than we'd like. This new cell of Acolytes seems to be more effective than the last. Whoever is organising them has gotten some good intel, and knows what to do with it."
"Who're they targeting this time?"
"Still you. It would appear that if one cell fails, the next picks up where they left off. They nearly got their hands on Bobby and his gang, but Dudley of all people managed to do them enough damage for the rest to get away. He landed himself in hospital in the process, but luckily some kindly passer-by types called an ambulance and the police before the Acolytes could disappear with him. They got away, but they didn't get anyone to torture for info. We've already taken care of the police reports, and paid the appropriate people to get Dudley the best care possible. He has a private room, and we've arranged for guards to stay with him around the clock; discretely, of course. Bobby has recommended that once he's finished with any physio he needs and is back in form that he be elevated to 2IC. Apparently he's knuckled down and is showing more brains that we thought the brawn contained."
Harry waved a hand dismissively.
"I don't care about that. I assigned you two to look after all those little details, and I trust you to do your jobs. What do we know about this Acolyte cell? Shot?"
Shot paused to swallow a mouthful of her drink, and set it aside. Pulling out a folder, she handed it over, the Hounds pulling out their own copies that she'd given them earlier.
"I managed to track a location through CCTV, which was not easy. I finally pinned them down entering Godstone, Surrey. A bit more digging got us a location; they aren't holing up in a church this time, but a small farm on the outskirts of town. This lot seem a bit more cultish than the ones we've encountered before, but overall I'd rank them as more of a threat. I don't have confirmed numbers, there aren't any cameras with enough proximity, and these guys aren't really advertising their presence. They're almost entirely off the grid, which is problematic. The only way we'll confirm numbers is to get eyes on. I'll keep trying, but I've pretty much tapped out until I get some names to hunt down." She fell silent, chewing her lip as she flicked through her folder again.
"So what you're telling me is that we have a location but no names, numbers, or usable intel unless we put someone in?" Harry's face was tight, displeasure radiating from every pore. "Do we have anyone in the area? I can't imagine sending strangers into a small parish immediately after a failed attempt at my network is particularly subtle. If they're smart they'll be in with the locals, if they aren't locals themselves."
Alex shifted thoughtfully.
"They're only muggles. We haven't found a single shred of evidence towards any wizarding connections, so it's unlikely they'd have wards or the like. We could send in someone from the wizarding side? A disillusionment spell and a property mapping charm and we'll have an accurate floorplan too. It's skirting a bit close to the laws about Muggle Hunting, but as long as when we go after them we don't use even an unlocking charm we should be fine."
Harry pursed his lips, sitting back in his chair while he thought. Tapping his fingers on the armrest, he stared at the door behind Alex's back.
"Do it. But afterwards I want whoever you use obliviated of the mission. I'm reluctant to allow too much crossover, but needs must. Do not do it yourselves," he levelled a look at his surprised Hounds. "You're both too valuable to risk, and who knows if they have some sort of security system we haven't encountered before. Until we can confirm more, use someone disposable, and do it immediately. They'll probably make another move in the very near future and I want to have everything in place. Shot, start working your magic and see if you can find hints of any inactive cells before they become an issue. This organisation is beginning to annoy me and I want the entire thing torn to pieces."
The Hounds nodded, each silently touched at being valued so highly by the icy boy.
"Anything else urgent?" Harry asked, stifling a yawn.
All three adults frowned, it wasn't like Vahan to show such weakness, even in front of them.
"Are you alright, Sir?" Alex asked.
Harry sighed and rolled his shoulders and neck.
"I'm fine. I just need a way to squeeze more hours out of each day so I can get some more sleep. Living supported by potions isn't ideal."
The adults frowned again, realising just how much Harry had on his plate, even with the Hounds and golems managing the bulk of the network and related paperwork.
"Perhaps you should take some time off, and just focus on school?" Shot offered tentatively.
Harry grinned ruefully.
"If only I could. I'm doing the bare minimum as it is, but I have to find a way to manage my time better before the potions overuse kills me. Or Marcel does, when he finds out about it," he smirked.
Sergei grunted.
"I've got some contacts that might be able to get something to help. I'll see what I can do."
Harry nodded, slumped in his chair, eyes blinking slowly.
Alex stood, and decisively scooped the exhausted boy into his arms.
"Sorry, Sir, but you can't sleep here. Just relax and I'll get you back to Hogwarts. We'll take care of this, you just relax and focus on school for now."
His only answer was a soft snore.