Amelia Bones sat in her bureau, stunned in disbelieve. In her hands she still held The Quibbler with a death grip. Around her were scattered different kinds of papers. Some of it was of the Black-case she was working on but others were about the magical murder of the Riddle family in Little Hangleton. She had searched the archives for the name 'Riddle' after she read the papers and she still couldn't believe what she had found.
Tom Marvolo Riddle. Son of Merope Gaunt, squib daughter of Marvolo Gaunt, the last heir of the Gaunt lordship. Son of Tom Riddle, Muggle aristocrat. The one who 'found out' that Rubeus Hagird was responsible for the killing of a girl on school grounds.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, whose father and grandparents were mysteriously killed just a year later by the killing curse. Tom Marvolo Riddle, who's uncle was blamed for the murder of the Riddles even if there never had been more evidence than the odd confession the uncle gave before he was sentenced to Azkaban.
Coincidence?
Amelia did not believe in coincidence.
Like she was sure that it was no coincidence that the topic Oliver Twist had chosen was Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort. Her gaze returned to the article. It was a challenge to the Dark Lord and it was at the same time a way to stop people calling him that ridiculous hyphenated name they had come up with.
You-Know-Who might imply fear - but calling a person 'Riddle' definitely didn't. What a genius way to make people lose some of the fear they had of the Dark Lord and at the same time annoying said Dark Lord - if he was still around, that is. Amelia was quite sure that the answer to that question, even if it was not stated like that in the newspaper, was a clear 'yes'. Or why else write an article just to bait a Dark Lord?
Well, Amelia was sure she could aid in gaining some information for another interesting article like that. And with that thought Amelia packed the information about Tom Riddle and some other things about the ministry and Dumbledore she had gathered in a neat package before adding it to the stack of letters she intended to send. Then she returned to her work in the Black-case, not even bothering to look at the boldly titled package on top of her letters. And if someone read 'Oliver Twist' scribbled on it, they had to be delusional. After all Amelia Bones after all would never, ever think about sending a letter to Twist to aid him in his… twisting. Never. Except…
Augusta Longbottom was reading The Quibbler at the same time as Amelia Bones. She had the newspaper sprawled all over her desk, her satisfaction evident in her face. A nice article. A very nice one - and it somehow felt like justice to spit the man whose followers tortured her precious child in the face with those words, even if it weren't hers but her Head of House's. But then, she was family and as such had the right to feel pride for her family. And it felt good to see her family finally avenging what had been done to its members!
What had been done to her precious baby boy, to the child she had hoped for for decades and that she had lost when he had just started to take a step back from his carrier to have a family.
Finally she looked up and in her visitor's eyes.
"How did he react?" she asked coolly.
"He definitely wasn't pleased," the man in front of her sighed while his fingers weaved through his slightly greying red locks. "I cannot believe that I was always too blind before to see that he definitely isn't pleased as much as he pretends to be."
Augusta just shrugged.
"That's Albus Dumbledore for you, Arthur," she answered while she frowned at the unkempt appearance of the man in front of her. Her own clothes were in predestine condition. Her stiff green robe and her tightly bound grey bun showing her status as the Dowager Longbottom. "You should do something about your appearance, Arthur. Your clothes and hair won't do when your family takes its place among the other houses in the Wizengamot."
Arthur Weasley's eyes widened.
"I don't believe my family will ever…"
"Of course it will. Your second born is the Prewett heir and you are the Head of House Weasley, one of the minor families of our Grand Family. You will get a place in the Wizengamot, so you should start acting like it."
Arthur just snorted.
"I have no idea how to act lordly, Augusta."
Augusta scrutinized the man in front of her, then her gaze returned to the article. She still wanted to burst into laughter after she had shown the article to Arthur Weasley yesterday morning when the paper came out. The man's eyes had gotten huge and he had started to splutter that he never ever expected someone to dare to do such a thing! But the best part had been when she had revealed that it had been a crew of their own head of house. The poor man had nearly suffocated before he had been able to get in another breath in his lungs. He simply had forgotten to breathe after that revelation.
"Well, then there is no way. I will tell you. You, your wife and your sons and daughter. There is no way that a part of my family doesn't know how to act properly with others of their standing."
Arthur spluttered and tried to object.
"Do you want to shame our Head? A Head as brilliant as him?" she asked the spluttering man while pointing at the newspaper in front of her. The Weasley Head followed her finger to the paper with his gaze and shook his head.
"Then it's settled," she said. "Your lessons will begin as soon as possible…"
But not all the reactions to Twist's article were as positive as Augusta Longbottoms. So while she started poor Arthur Weasley on lessons in etiquette, another man was withering in pain on the floor of his own manor. In his hands he clutched a letter and next to his head lay a newspaper he had brought the Dark Lord after it had been published in the Witch's Weekly.
"Crucio!"
Again pain shot through his body and Lucius Malfoy dearly regretted sharing the article with the Dark Lord. But if he hadn't it would have been a lot more painful than it was now - that was something Lucius Malfoy had learned when he had served the Dark Lord in the first war. Bad news had always consequences, if they were your fault or not did not matter. If you were the messager, you suffered - it was as simple as that.
"How dares that brat to imply I, the great Lord Voldemort, are afraid of death! How dares that… that unruly child to imply I am no lord! I am the Lord Slytherin, the most powerful lord in Britain!", the Dark Lord hissed at that moment while he strode up and down the room, sometimes stopping to either curse Lucius or Peter Pettigrew who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and as such also had to endure the wrath of their lord.
"Crucio!"
Lucius would have never thought that he felt ever thankful towards the sniffling rat but at the moment he could kiss the rat - simply because Pettigrew was there and because of that shared the burden of the Dark Lord's wrath. On the other hand - no. He definitely wouldn't kiss the rat even now. The danger of being infected with some ominous Muggle-illness was far too great if he did that.
"This brat! I will show him! I will teach him!" the Dark Lord ranted. "I will…"
Lucius stopped listening again and instead looked down to the letter he clutched in his hands. The letter had nothing to do with the article Twist had written. It was a letter addressed to the Head of the Malfoy family. The letter itself consisted of heavy parchment and Lucius Malfoy's name and social position printed boldly on it in green letters - the colour of the letters indicating that it was an invitation of some sort.
It was the invitation to join a family. A Grand Family.
Lucius closed his eyes and tried to remember the words of the invite while the Dark Lord still ranted next to him. Maybe if he concentrated on something different he would lose the fear he held for the raving lunatic who strode up and down the room just some inches away from Lucius' head.
To the Head of the House Malfoy and his Heir,
Children of the House of Malfoy, you have lived in honor of your ancestors. You have lived sly; you have lived true to your ideals. You have followed the way of your ancestors. I declare you kin of a beloved daughter of my House. As such I will cherish you and aid you in your time of need. You are granted entrance in my family.
Answer my call, kin of my House, and return to your rightful place.
Hold on, I will take you home this Saturday at midnight.
I swear on my soul and magic you will be safe until you return.
The Head of the Family
In the past Lucius Malfoy would have never considered an invite like that. Joining a Grand Family simply meant less independent politically. But now his perspective had changed. Without the Malfoire-family holdings he soon would be unable to pay the things the Dark Lord wanted him to pay. The Dark Lord wouldn't be happy when he found out and Lucius could clearly see death in the near future. And he didn't want to die.
One option was to tie you to a Grand Family. He would gain access to the family holdings of the Grand Family and he would be able to return to his previous life-style with those founds - all positive aspects of a Grand Family. To Lucius' regret he would have to consider the power of his new head of the house over him if he truly decided to join. There were rules that might be stated to be able to join the family - and Lucius wasn't sure if it was worth to follow this family to get some money and some certain political allies instead of following his own ideals at the end. But then, he had lost his freedom to do so since the Head of Malfoire had come and taken over the responsibilities that Lucius had done before. Lucius had felt horrible when he followed his head's wishes for the first time and instead of voting for an anti-werewolf-law he vote against it. Still, he had done as he had been told. It was after all far better then being cast out of the family…
In that moment another Cruciatus curse hit Lucius and all his thoughts flew out of the window. The only thing left was pain. Absolute agonizing pain.
And one thought: "At least the Head of a Grand Family is not allowed to hurt his subjects…" Maybe the thought of joining was worth considering.
Meanwhile Albus Dumbledore was fuming. He had been fuming since yesterday morning when the paper had been released and he had seen that a student had dared to uncover one of the secrets he had held since fifty years.
Tom Marvolo Riddle had been his little dirty secret - the one child he had not been able to safe. That someone had dared to step up and uncover that fact did definitely not sit well with the Headmaster.
And then Arthur Weasley had happened.
Oh, Albus Dumbledore despised the nice man at the moment. The meeting of the Order of the Phoenix had gotten along nicely until Arthur Bloody Weasley had brought up the article in The Quibbler and had ask him if he knew what parts of the article were true and which weren't.
And Albus had to tell the whole Order - why couldn't that idiotic man wait with his question until after the gathering?! - that there was no lie in the article. And because of the questions of the others Albus had finally to admit that Oliver Twist until now had never lied in his articles. Every fact mentioned in the articles were true and if you took your time you could look them up - even now after the Minister had closed the archives for the public.
Oh, how Albus Dumbledore wished to uncover the identity of Twist - just so that he could kill that boy for bringing important information like that in the open! The boy would destroy everything if Albus couldn't stop him!
Until now Harry had been too preoccupied with the new Defence professor - and this year Albus praised that woman just for existing and stopping the Boy-Who-Lived to stick his nose in things like those articles - and with school in general.
Of course Albus had heard about the fight Harry had had with Ron and Hermione and he wasn't too pleased that neither of them told him the truth of what had happened between them when he asked. Hermione Granger had said something about Harry being his typical teenage self again, but Ron Weasley had just stared at him in loathing as if their fall-out with Harry was somehow Albus' fault. The boy had not said a word to him ever since.
And then there were Arthur and Molly. Instead of speaking with their son like he asked them to do, Arthur told him to stop sticking his nose into this fight. It had nothing to do with him and so he had no right to noise around in it. Arthur had never ever said 'no' to him before…
In that moment his door opened and Moody stepped in.
"Alastor, my friend," he greeted the man.
The Ex-Auror just nodded his head at him.
"I know you are still watching Harry closely. Have you found out what brought on his fall-out with his best friends?"
Moody snorted.
"You know that I doubt they are his best friends, Albus," Moody replied. "But to indulge your curiosity: the boy and his 'friends' had a fall-out because it seems that they were too noisy for the boy's comfort. Something about going to you instead of talking to him."
"Ah… well, that's unfortunate," Albus said sighing. "I guess it's definitely time that Harry has his first Occlumency lessons with Severus. He should do better as soon as Voldemort has not a grip as strong as now on the boy's mind."
Moody just snorted but said nothing. Albus of course knew that the Ex-Auror believed that Harry was an imposer but then, Albus was the only one who knew about the Horcrux in the boy's scar - so no wonder that Alastor came to the wrong conclusion.
"Was that all, Albus?" Moody asked instead.
Albus nodded.
"Of course, Alastor, my friend."
The Ex-Auror turned but just before he could leave the room, Albus decided to add another thing.
"Alastor!" the other man stopped and turned back to him. "Have you ever seen something that indicates the identity of Oliver Twist while you were spying in the castle?"
For a moment the Ex-Auror staid silent and contemplated his answer, then he shook his head no.
"I fear there never was any evidence about someone being Oliver Twist that I noticed, Albus," he said and then looked the Headmaster in the eye. "Was that all, Albus?" and with Albus' nod he left, leaving a still not wiser Headmaster in his wake.
As soon as the door closed behind Alastor Moody his expressionless mask fell from his face and he face-palmed. He had been chasing the faux Harry Potter all year, never realizing that the one difference he had never contemplated was Oliver Twist.
Not only Harry Potter had changed this year. Oliver Twist had started to exist - so 'Oliver Twist', or at least the person writing him, also had changed. He knew that Oliver Twist was a Hogwarts student - the lad had written it himself in the first ever letter he had written to Xenophilius Lovegood. But the lad had never written before this year…
"Before they started to slander Harry Potter, actually," Moody concluded still in disbelieve that he could have missed something so obvious.
The writer of the articles had accused the Daily Prophet of slandering after they had gone after Harry Potter. Then there had been Harry Potters trial and the quip at Sirius Black. Later on the missing trial of Sirius Black himself. And now Voldemort. Whoever the writer of the articles was they had to have some connection to Harry Potter - there was just one question in Alastor Moody's mind: was the connection to the real Harry Potter or the person impersonating him?!
Alastor Moody had a new clue to chase after…
Meanwhile Fudge was staring at the article, fuming.
Did this boy really thing he could question the Ministry and his word as the Minister? How dared the boy to question his word by stating that You-Know-Who might still be alive?! Alone to have the nerve to even state that it might be, was something Cornelius Fudge, Minister extraordinaire, would not tolerate. The reason for that was simply: if he tolerated it, the step to the idea that You-Know-Who was truly alive was far too… small to take.
So Fudge would not tolerate it.
Of course it wasn't the first time the boy had seen to it that the ministry looked completely incompetent - and Fudge would not tolerate these lies and accusations anymore.
No, Fudge would strangle the boy as soon as he got his hands on him! But that exactly was the problem. There was no way to get his hands on that boy. And Fudge hated it.
"Maybe you should approach Xenophilius Lovegood about Twist. He should know who the boy is and there sure are ways to pressure him to give in to our demands," Dolores Umbridge said. She was not truly in the minister's office but flooing Fudge just at that moment. Cornelius Fudge had used this to ask her for advice concerning Twist.
The answer to her words was a smile - a smile that promised problems to Xeno Lovegood.
"A very good idea, Dolores. I will instantly get things started," he stood up and closed the floo connection to Hogwarts. Instead he opened a different one.
"Auror Dwalis," he said in greeting. "Would you please step through? I need you to accompany me somewhere."
The Auror on the other end just inclined his head. "Sure thing, minister," he said while stepping through. Galleons exchanged its hands and not ten minutes later Cornelius Fudge was on the way to a war against a twisting Hogwarts-student.
While Fudge and the other people all were very emerged in the article, Hermione Granger wasn't. When she read it after classes on the day it was released, she was still preoccupied with Harry's words. Not that she truly thought them through. She was quite sure that Harry was just a moody teen and that he would come around in time.
At least that was what she told herself and others when they asked. But deep inside her there was a tiny voice, telling her that she was delusioning herself and that Harry truly meant it.
But she had been right! The Firebold could have been dangerous! She had to go to a professor and take it away from Harry before something happened!
"But why didn't you tell him first?" the tiny voice asked her in Harry's voice. "Why did you go straight to the professor? Harry is your friend; you can talk to him…"
Like she could have talked to him before running to Dumbledore because Harry was behaving differently than she had expected. But had it truly been her right to judge Harry? Had it been her right to decide what was unusual for Harry and what wasn't?
"He forgot things he knew for years, things about me he never forgot before…" Hermione reasoned. But Harry had never been through what he had been through at the end of last year. Hadn't he a right to act different than she was used to after seeing Cedric die in front of him? Hadn't he a right to forget that she hated brussle sprouts when he might be traumatized after seeing Cedric die? After meeting the Dementors in the holidays?
But he was Harry - and Harry always bounced back.
"Always until now, yes," the tiny voice whispered. "But there is always a first time when he won't. Maybe he finally reached that point. Maybe your actions - your telling on him - will push him over the edge. Maybe he didn't bounce back this time and you pushed him away with your insisting demands that he tells you everything…"
With a frustrated huff Hermione threw The Quibbler against the wall.
"Oh, wow," a voice stated behind her. She turned. Fred - or was it George? "And I thought you would like the article Twist wrote and not throw it against the wall…"
Hermione blinked. Then her thoughts returned to the present and she blushed. "I liked the article, mostly. But I cannot believe Twist actually used the word 'mudblood'! That's not a word a proper journalist should use! It's like… it's like… I don't know!"
George - or was it Fred? - just blinked while his brother laughed at her.
"You're right. It was definitely a word you don't see in a newspaper normally," Fred said.
"I guess he did it to provoke the Dark Lord Tommy-boy…"
"Or the Dead Monkeys who follow and believe in him…"
"Or Malfoy. Maybe he wants to see the git faint in the middle of the Great Hall…"
"Oh, good one, brother of mine! I didn't think of that one!" the other twin said - Hermione had long since given up trying which one was speaking at the moment. "But maybe he didn't want to take on Malfoy but Snape. I heard he nearly choked on his pumpkin juice when he read the article."
"Or he wanted to see if Umbitch blows up by solely reading the m-word used to describe her lover…"
"Ew, Forge! This image! This image!" the other twin cried and started to claw at his eyes. Hermione scrunched up her nose in distaste.
"You didn't just say that, did you?" she asked while bile rose in her throat.
"Why? Don't you too think they fit? Umbitch with all her pink and good old snake-faced Tommy-boy," the twin who definitely had to have some kind of brain damage stated with a faked disbelieving look in her direction. "I bet they would get on like a house on fire."
"Sometimes I wonder if Bill or Charlie let you drop one time too often, Forge," the other twin stated.
"No, Gred," 'Forge' said grinning. "They just forget to drop you as often as they dropped me. But don't worry. We can fix that."
That was for Hermione the clue to take her leave. She definitely didn't want to get into whatever the twins would do now…
She never saw Ron lurking in one of the shadows, staring out of the window, The Quibbler in his hands and his eyes hardened with the decision he had finally made. Ron had listened to Harry when the boy had told them of. Yes, Ron was a hard-headed bastard sometimes. Yes, Ron could be a jealous prat. But furthermost Ron had still one character trait that would always guide him in the end. Like it would do this time around. Like it had done in the past.
Ron was loyal.
He was a git.
He was a jealous prat.
He was a hard-headed bastard.
But he was a loyal one.
And he finally understood that it was time to take his head out of his arse and wise up. After all, Tom Riddle was back - and Harry would need everyone to get rid of this monster again. Even a jealous idiot like Ron.
Interestingly Severus Snape was one of those persons that were not at all concerned about the consequences of Twist's article. He had read it, nearly spat his juice on it when he saw the cunning that had driven the writer and then simply moved on to other things.
The consequences of the article instead were something Severus Snape definitely couldn't ignore as simply as the article itself. And so it came that he was striding with billowing robes to the Headmaster's office to report at midnight of that eventful day after he had been summoned just a few hours ago by the Dark Lord.
He spoke the password to the gargoyle and rode the stairs up to the well known office of the Headmaster, filled with all those useless trinkets that Albus Dumbledore was so fond of.
The Headmaster was still awake and waiting for him.
"Severus," he greeted the man and gestured to a chair for Severus to sit on. Severus just sneered at the chair and stopped in front of the Headmaster's desk, standing.
"The Dark Lord has upped his schedule," he said stiffly. The Headmaster just sighed.
"He plans to raid Azkaban tomorrow night."
The answer was another tired sigh.
"So he feels provoked by the article of Oliver Twist," Dumbledore said tiredly. "That's bad news for our side. If he ups the schedule too far it might be that he will conquer Great Britain long before we are ready to react."
"But it also will give him less time to plan, Headmaster," Severus replied stiffly. "I am sure that you have enough people to stop this raid tomorrow."
"I cannot stop him tomorrow, Severus," Albus Dumbledore said tiredly. "The world needs to know that he is back and sadly this will be the best way to make them believe."
"If we do nothing the Dark Lord will be able to get his forces back. His most trusted are in Azkaban! And Fudge will just aid him. This man is scared enough of the Dark Lord to ignore a Dark Mark and claim that nothing happened! He will do exactly the same if the Dark Lord breaks his most trusted out of Az…"
"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted the heated rant of his potion master and spy. "We cannot react to this. We don't have the means to get into Azkaban to stop him…"
Severus Snape said nothing after that. He just nodded stiffly and bowed.
"I am sure you know what is best," he said coolly. "If you excuse me. I should turn in for the night now."
Albus Dumbledore just smiled his grandfatherly smile at the stiff potion's master.
"Of course, my boy," he said smiling gently. "Have a good night's rest."
Severus Snape just inclined his head and turned around to leave the Headmaster's office, his back stiff with silent resentment towards the Headmaster's words.
And tomorrow, while the world would crumble, Severus would also have his first Occlumency lesson with the Potter brat. There was no way to ruin an evening better for Severus Snape than the Dark Lord on the loose again, coupled with teaching the Potter brat Occlumency…
Surprisingly it had taken Harry's friends two weeks and two days - the exact two days The Quibbler had been released and had turned the magical world upside down - until they finally decided to apologize to Harry and it was Ron - Harry was definitely surprised on that one - who started it.
"Harry," Ron said that afternoon, hesitatingly and sat down next to Harry who was working on his Transfiguration essay in a shielded corner of the Gryffindor common room at that point of time. Later on Harry would have his first Occlumency lesson and he definitely wanted to be done with his essay in time to go to his 'Potion's remedy lessons'.
So Harry just looked up shortly before turning again to his essay and saying softly. "Yes, Ron?"
"The toad - I mean Umbridge - she's still giving you detention, isn't she?"
This seemed to be the start of a longer conversation. Harry sighed inwardly but finally shrugged and put his quill down. He had had his last detention with Umbridge just a day ago - and today he had gotten another two weeks, starting tomorrow for 'his cheek'. Harry had been silent the whole time her class lasted before he got the detention.
"You know she has no right to do that," Ron continued. "I mean, you are polite in her class and you don't cross her at all. She has nothing to base her detention on and you know it."
Harry shrugged again.
"I know. But if I go against her because of the detentions she is giving me she will just use my antagonizing her to give me even more detention," Harry answered, at that point of time not really sure what to think of his best friend and the odd conversation they were having.
"But she's doing something illegal!" Ron cried at that moment. "And don't tell me it's nothing! I have seen you rubbing your hand at odd times. I have seen the words engraved in them! You cannot let her continue to-"
"I won't," Harry said. "But this-" he showed Ron his hand with the engraved words on it. "Can be covered up by the ministry if I don't do this right. I need a catalyst to even have a chance to get her. Something big - and don't tell me something like this is easy to find!"
Ron opened his mouth, most likely to retort, but the only thing he finally said was: "Bloody hell! You really think that the ministry or the teachers won't do anything if-"
"I went to McGonagall," Harry said. "I tried to tell her. She won't listen." And it was the truth. He had gone to her - not because he needed her but because he was sure that if he didn't go to her, no one would. He knew very well that with his political power there were a lot of people even here in school that looked up at him. If he didn't go to the teachers, no one would because if he could bear it, everyone could.
So Harry went.
Harry went the day after his first detention but the only thing McGonagall had told him was to 'keep his head down'. She wouldn't even listen to him when he told her he had done nothing to antagonize the ministry toad - not that he called her that, mind you - and she even wouldn't look at his hand as if she had been afraid to see that his claims were more than words.
That was the moment Harry had fully seen how far the school was from the ideals it had been built on.
"She… she wouldn't listen?" Ron repeated, disbelieve coloring his voice. Harry just smiled bitterly at him.
"Welcome to my world, Ron," he said while he continued writing his essay.
"But… but… but your hand! I saw your hand! There is no way she couldn't have seen-"
"She didn't even look up to see, Ron. Was that all you wanted?"
Ron gawked at him for another moment or two, then he blurted out.
"No! I wanted to say 'sorry'!"
"Whatever for, Ron?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.
"For being stupid and for going to the Headmaster before even trying to talk to you," Ron said. "I know I am a jerk sometime and I know I often cannot see further than my nose but, Harry, please! I am truly sorry for my behavior the other day! I should have gone to you! I should have talked to you! I'm really, really sorry that I just followed Hermione to the Headmaster's office to tell him everything!"
This time Harry put his quill down and looked at Ron with a serious expression.
"So you think that now, after you have apologized, it will be all well again?" he asked the boy in front of him while scrutinizing him.
Ron squirmed on his seat.
"I… I don't know," he said, his voice oddly soft. "I think I cannot blame you if you want to continue being angry with me. Merlin knows, I would never forgive you for the stunt I pulled and I guess… I guess I have to be okay with it if you do the same. Still, I am sorry. Even if you can't forgive me I at least have to say it. The only other thing I have to offer is to tell you that I try to never do that again."
Harry studied his best friends face.
The red-haired boy in front of him looked at him with sincerity in his eyes. Ron meant it. Truly meant it. And even if Harry was not the same Harry Ron had been friends with before the summer, Harry was still hesitating about refusing the boy's apology outright.
Finally he sighed.
"I accept your apology," he said to the red head. "But that doesn't mean our friendship is still like it was before. I won't trust you as easily as before and I'm not sure if I will ever trust you with a secret ever again. I am sorry."
And with that Harry turned back to his homework, unable to look at the red head in front of him.
"I understand that, Harry," Ron said finally after the silence stretched between them. "Thank you for forgiving me." And then the red head who normally did anything but homework, pulled out his essay for history of magic and started to write about goblin wars.
"You should add the Great Battle of the North Fields to the wars you're researching," Harry recommended after a few minutes. "There's a witness report somewhere in the library that shows the side of the goblins."
"Hu? What witness?" Ron asked dumbfounded. Harry just shrugged.
"Prince Salvazsahar Pendragon, son of Arthur Pendragon," he said. "The prince fought on the side of the goblins in that war, so it definitely broadens your perspective on the goblin wars."
Ron blinked once, then twice. Finally he slowly nodded.
"Er… thanks, I guess," he said staring at Harry as if he was a foreign creature.
"You're welcome, I guess," Harry answered and returned to his essay. Half an hour later he finally finished, packed it away and then stood up.
"Where are you going?" Ron asked, then caught himself. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking, that is…"
"I have remedial potions with Snape," Harry said. Ron looked at him in disbelieve.
"You are acing every potion since the beginning of the year - so why by Merlin's soggy underpants are you having remedial potions?"
"And that is the question, Ron," Harry said, grinning. "Ask the Headmaster. He was after all the one who came up with this idiotic explanation - but then, maybe Snape never told him that I memorized the potion's book over the summer?"
And with that Harry left the room and went to the dungeons to meet the man, he planned to break one day.
" Legilimens!"
Harry was baffled. So these were the lessons Dumbledore wanted Harry to have?! No introduction, no theory - just 'Clear your mind' and 'Legilimens'?!
Harry was not impressed.
And maybe he would have been totally pissed-off if he wouldn't already know what there was to know about Occlumency and Legilimency. Maybe these Arts were some obscure branch of magic today - when Harry had been taught, it had been absolutely necessary.
And Harry still thought it was.
If he would have been a teacher he would have taught his students both Arts as soon as they entered in his care…
Of course he was a student now…
When his teacher stopped trying to read his mind, Harry turned his attention back to reality.
His teacher sneered.
"I told you to clear your mind, Potter!"
Well, Harry already had a clear mind - not that his teacher was able to tell - so he surely would not attempt something he had mastered already when he really had been fifteen.
But how could Snape know?
Harry was sure, that his Occlumency was of a totally different kind than the man had ever seen before. And maybe would never see again…
The normal art of Occlumency was closing of all of his memories, leaving the mind empty for every attempt to read. Harry thought nothing of this idea.
When you would clear your mind, so there was nothing to find anymore, everyone would get suspicious - and Harry could and would not have that. He needed to be able to play an unprotected, helpless teen too often in the past to just wipe his mind from everything someone would attempt to read. So he had used a different approach, the one his father had taught him.
The result had been that Harry had not attempted to close of all his memories; he had just packed layers of unimportant memories over the important ones while burying the important ones behind different layers of defences. Harry himself wasn't sure how many layers of defences he really had. He just had built another one when he had learned a new way to protect his mind.
His outer layers now - the unprotected part - were childhood memories. All stuff Snape would have expected in Harry's mind - well, not really expected, because the memories Harry had used were those of the old Harry, and not of a pampered prince…
But that did not matter. It just mattered, that it were Harry's memories - and just enough to be believable. So there was nothing of the original Harry's memories before his fourth birthday and after that there just were some half remembered ones.
The only absolutely clear memories were those that had happened in the last six to seven years - just like it would be in every other mind that had not the uncanny ability to remember everything that had ever happened in his life.
A memory the original Harry would have had…
But pulling the wool over Snape's eyes was something that started to bore the new Harry to death. They were doing this mind-raping since twenty minutes. Harry wished they were finished. He hated sitting there and watching Snape shouting Legilimens at him, while he not even had to try to brush him of. His teacher was gliding off of his shields as if Harry's mind was glass and his teacher's attempt to read it water sprinkled on it.
Maybe…
No! He was Harry now!
But maybe…
He was Harry!
But maybe he could… just one glimpse… and he was so bored… so…
Maybe he should have his own fun while his teacher was feasting on his hatred to Harry's father and Harry himself.
But he shouldn't… the original Harry wouldn't…
But he wasn't the original one!
" Legilimens!"
There his teacher was again. Entering his mind, searching for his weaknesses…
But this time, it was different.
This time, Harry struck.
With the agility of a serpent he wound himself along the magic his teacher was using in the mind of the other. There was no escape from him. Greater men had fallen into his trap - and that was no surprise. Harry might be a good Occlumens, but he was a genius Legilimens.
Not even Dumbledore's or Voldemort's shields were a match for him, if he really tried - and even if the man's shields in front of him were strong enough to keep both of the old men out of his mind, he had nothing to defend himself from Harry…
And Harry wanted to know if his teacher's uncommon beginning of the lesson was out of pure hatred or out of something else.
Harry knew that teaching like that would end in nothing, if his opponent was a mere, ignorant student. Normally his teacher had to introduce the subject and then start with teaching Legilimency, not directly Occlumency. There was no way that a student would be able to learn Occlumency first. Legilimency would show him his teacher's defences so that he was able to build his own after them…
But without…
Harry did not follow his thoughts further, instead scrutinizing the defences his teacher had built in his mind.
"Impressive" Harry thought while gliding through the defences as if they weren't there. "Nearly impossible to breach."
Not that Harry had to. His knowledge of magic and the blood-magic he practiced let him conceal his own present in the flow of magic that was leaving his teacher's mind - something that even Dumbledore and Voldemort never had thought of.
"Very impressive indeed."
His teacher's approach was to delude the other mind into thinking that it was reading him while in reality it was bound in a box and fed with the memories and feelings Snape wanted them to see. Harry was sure that even Dumbledore would be trapped in this highly secure prison cell.
Of course, Harry wasn't. He had bypassed all the defences while being concealed in the man's own magic, looking now at them from the inside.
After he had mentally anatomized the shields of his teacher he returned his attention to the thoughts of his teacher.
They were an utter chaos - nothing a normal Legilimens's thoughts would be. They were dancing though the older man's mind, laced with guilt, fear and bitterness. There was dislike, bound to Harry's appearance, bound to Harry's father - but this was not the main feelings directed at him.
Sadness - as if Harry was something his teacher had lost a long time ago.
Bitterness - also bound to Harry's appearance, but this time more to his mother's aspects.
Guilt and fear…
Fear for Harry, fear of Tom Riddle… and somehow fear of Dumbledore and his scheming.
All swirling through his teacher's mind which had lost half an hour ago the cool efficiency that clearing the mind would bring normally…
"I have to teach him Legilimency first," a thought echoed through the mind of the man and Harry watched the memory playing through the feelings of the other one. "It is always done like that."
"But we don't have time to begin with Legilimency," another voice answered - Albus Dumbledore's, Harry would recognize this voice everywhere. "The boy will be able to handle it. He has shed the Imperius - he will be able to learn Occlumency without Legilimency first."
"One thing has nothing to do with the other…"
"So you would risk teaching him Legilimency while being under Voldemort's eyes? Don't you think that Voldemort would kill you when he finds out from the boy's mind - and believe me, he will. The boy is far too much under his control at the moment to not find out about that. And who would then be there to watch over the boy? Sirius? Remus? Would you like Lily's son's security solely in their hands?"
His teacher had nothing replied, but Harry could feel guilt and fear growing stronger.
Harry stared at the memory, storing it away in his own mind.
Then he decided to follow the strings attached to Snape's guilt and fear and watched where they lead to.
Childhood memories of his teacher swamped Harry's mind. He saw the parents arguing, saw the father drinking. He saw the cruelty and the fear that penetrated the Snape household. And he saw Lily - the only light in Snape's early years.
Lily, who was the source of Snape's guilt.
He felt the love bound to the red haired girl, the genuine awe Snape had felt for her. She had been perfect in his teacher's eyes - not perfect in 'she had no flaws' but perfect in 'she was everything he needed to be happy'.
Not that Snape ever understood that it had been his dabbling in the Dark Arts that drove Lily away in the end and not Potter.
And then Harry stumbled over the memory of Snape begging the old goat of a Headmaster for Lily's life - vowing the man to do anything for him as long as Lily was kept safe.
He stumbled over this memory and all that correlated with it. The prophecy - and wasn't that some interesting discovery? Of course, Harry had found out meanwhile about the shift in the ministry to keep something safe - but he had not found out until now that it was a prophecy about him and Tom Riddle…
And Dumbledore had used Snape's actions of running to Tom Riddle with what he heard to guilt-trip the younger wizard.
"Manipulating bastard," Harry thought while drawing back, returning to his own mind. "Old slippery manipulating bastard!"
But there was nothing he could do now - except for one thing.
While leaving he placed a single, simple rune-spell in his teacher's mind. This spell was something that maybe would be considered dark today - it had been considered dark when Morgana LeFay herself used it, but it would do its purpose…
Harry let the other man go, returning to his own mind and then waited until his teacher drew back from his mind. He scrutinized his teacher.
The older man seemed fine, so the spell Harry had used had integrated itself in his teacher's defences without any problems.
Snape instead huffed at Harry.
"Try again, Potter!" he hissed. " Legilimens !"
This time Harry opened one of his defences and added another three memories to those he had gathered in his protection. With a subtle nudge Harry shoved his teacher into the first memory.
Lily's death.
Harry knew he was cruel, but he also knew that he had to be cruel to reach his teacher.
The rune-spell Harry had placed reacted instantly, telling Harry that Snape definitely did not take well to see the night of Lily's murder. Still, when Snape tried to pull out, Harry held him in place. Harry held him in place until the memory had played out, then he shoved Snape into the next - an even older one.
" If it's Severus like Dumbledore told us, then I believe that he is genuine in his change of heart," Lily said. James was carrying baby Harry who was playing with a stuff dog.
Harry could feel Snape startle when he heard Lily defending him. Instead of trying to pull away from the memory, Snape emerged in it and Harry let him. It was far easier to keep someone in a memory if this person wanted to be there.
" Lily," James said with a sigh. Snape sneered at the man.
" No, James! I know you hated Severus but I was friends with him! I know that he dabbled in the Dark Arts! I know he chose the wrong crowd! But he was my friend since I was eight - even if you don't like him, at least accept that I know him better than anybody else!"
Harry could feel the surprise and the self-hatred in Snape. Not that Harry could blame him. It was the first time for Snape hearing the real reason why Lily left him.
" No, Lily, You knew him better than anybody else," James corrected her. "He changed long ago!"
But Lily shook her head.
" Somewhere, deep inside he was always the same sweet boy I met so long ago, James. People might change - but there is still a core that won't change whatever you do. And Severus was always good at his core."
This time the guilt Snape felt was even more pronounced than it had been before.
" Lily…"
" No, James! I know it! I… I… I need to believe it! I was never a bad judge of character - are you telling me now I am?"
" Well, you don't like Peter…"
" That has nothing to do with that, James!"
Harry then ripped his teacher from this memory to stuff him into the next, a memory that had been open to Snape all along - the revealing of Peter Pettigrew being the traitor in the original Harry's third year.
Fury tasted like iron on Harry's tongue when the rune he had placed in Snape's mind reacted to the memory of the traitorous rat.
Harry knew that the rat wouldn't survive the next encounter with Severus Snape if Snape had any means to kill the rat at his disposal at that time. It seemed as if until now the rat and Severus had not met in Voldemort's service.
Harry didn't mind that Snape might kill the rat. Of course, the rat would make it easier for Sirius to get his freedom - but Sirius' freedom was one of the lesser parts in Harry's plans and there were other ways.
He let the memory play out and threw Snape in the last one he had taken out of his protection.
Lily was standing next to the crib, rocking Harry.
The baby looked at her with huge eyes, innocent and green - so green.
" Shh," she whispered. "Sleep my precious child. Sleep, my little angel."
Baby Harry squealed.
" Mummy loves you, daddy loves you," she said, like she had told Harry shortly before Voldemort reached Harry's room. "Don't forget. Whatever will happen, don't forget, mummy loves you, daddy loves you. You are my precious baby boy."
She looked up and out in the night.
Her grip tightened.
" Never forget. Even if mummy has to die for you to keep you safe," one of her hands let go of little Harry and touched the walls, marred with blood and runes. "Mummy will keep you safe. Even if daddy will have to die for you, daddy will keep you safe. Whatever will happen - as long as I'm alive I will do anything, anything to protect you!"
And with that Harry threw Snape back into the cruel memory of Lily's death.
" Mummy loves you, daddy loves you."
" Whatever will happen - as long as I'm alive I will do anything, anything to protect you!"
It was like he had dosed Snape in ice water.
For a moment Snape's magic and essence froze in place, staring at the scene of Lily dying again like a deer frozen in headlight.
Then Snape stared to struggle against Harry's hold.
Snape's magic was all over the room, uncontrolled and ready to defend. Harry could feel the breakdown that was to come.
It had been too much. Too much guilt was clouding Snape's mind, too much hurt. This time it wasn't just guilt about killing Lily, it was the guilt about letting her down. About treating Harry like he had treated him when Harry had been first and for all Lily's son.
Not Potter's.
Lily's.
Harry let him go and Snape retreated as fast as he could from Harry's mind - a flight, but a gentle one because the first time since the start of their lesson, Snape did everything to avoid it, to hurt Harry.
Harry looked up at his teacher but the man avoided his eyes.
"Go" he sneered instead - his voice, as steady as he would have wished it, trembling because of the things he had seen. Harry felt a little guilty now after seeing the potion's master struggling with playing unaffected. The man in front of him was nothing but a child, chained by his grieve and guilt for something he had just a little part into doing. "Same time next week - and practice clearing your mind every night before bed."
Harry nodded and turned to leave, but at the door he stopped again.
He could not leave like that…
Severus Snape couldn't even think clearly anymore. His thoughts were a mess, his emotions were all over the place.
It couldn't be true. The boy… the boy had been far too young to remember things like that!
But it was true.
He had seen the memories.
Potter had no Occlumency shields, no way to keep Severus out! And even if he would have had, you couldn't create memories like that without leaving at least a hunch that something was wrong. Tempering with a memory was possible - but not as long as the memory was still inside your head.
So Severus did the only thing he could do: he tried to remove Potter from his present before his fragile grasp on his emotions slipped. Severus knew that if Potter was still there when he broke down, he would lose every respect the boy ever had for him - not that the boy ever had a lot of it for him…
"Go," he rasped out, while trying to sound as normal as he could. Luckily the boy was a Gryffindor - he shouldn't know that something was amiss at all with his thick head and egocentric mind. "Same time next week - and practice clearing your mind every night before bed."
The boy nodded, but instead of leaving stopped in front of the door again.
"You know, the Headmaster has no right to guilt-trip you like he does, Professor" he said without turning around to the teacher. Severus stiffened while hoping against hope that his bodily reaction was going to be unnoticed. "You weren't the one at fault for my mother's death. You might have played a part in it, but in the end I blame Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore for her demise - and you should do it, too."
It was like another shock to Severus' system.
A guilt absolution.
Once, Severus would have interpreted Lily's son's words as arrogance, now he could hear Lily's voice in his ears. "Somewhere, deep inside he was always the same sweet boy I met so long ago, James. People might change - but there is still a core that won't change whatever you do. And Severus was always good at his core."
" You weren't the one at fault for my mother's death."
Those words were not arrogance. Those words were Lily, talking to him through her son from beyond the grave.
"You have no idea what you are talking about, Lily's child!" Severus hissed, lashing out at the absolution that was presented at him. An absolution he so dearly wanted, but one he didn't deserve. Not from Lily's son.
"I killed your mother!" he hissed, hot tears misting his eyes, but not spilling - not yet. "The Headmaster did everything to protect her and I…"
"Albus Dumbledore did nothing to protect my family," the boy interrupted, also hissing. Lily's son turned around and this time Severus was not fast enough to escape the death green eyes of the boy. Fire was dancing in them - fire sparked by fury.
"Dumbledore," the boy hissed, his deathly eyes capturing Severus' black ones, holding them hostage. "Dumbledore did nothing for anyone! If he really would have cared like he pretends to do he wouldn't have just watched Riddle - he would have stopped him! If Dumbledore really would have cared he wouldn't have hidden away when Grindelwald tried to take over the world, but would have stopped him long before their epic battle in 1945, when Grindelwald was at the height of his power! If he would have cared he would have found the means to end this coming war before it even started! He suspected for decades what Tom Riddle had done. He knew for years that he was right! And what did he do? He sat there, watching - watching a child struggle to fight off a man, decades older than it! He had thirteen years of peace - time enough to find out if he was right, time enough to do everything in his power to stop Tom Riddle! But again, he did nothing ! You…" Lily's son's finger was aiming at him as if the boy wanted to pile him with it.
"You went through a war. You might have been young and foolish at that time but you know war! Tell me, Head of House Slytherin - when did you join the war?"
Severus stared at Lily's boy in front of him. It took a few moments but when the seconds of silence ticked by, Severus understood that the boy wanted a genuine answer to his question.
So Severus gave him the answer he wanted.
"When I was eighteen," he whispered harshly. His Occlumency was working over time to keep his emotions in check - but to everyone who couldn't read the slight glimmering of his eyes, nothing would seem to be wrong.
"Eighteen - and just out of Hogwarts," the boy said and the knowledge and age that suddenly displayed in his eyes nearly unsettled the potion's master. "Albus Dumbledore was sixty-three when he finally decided to end a war that had lasted for at least a decade and that was at its high for the previous four years ! More though, Albus Dumbledore knew that Gellert Grindelwald planned to overthrow the world decades earlier - he knew it since he met Grindelwald when he was not even fully out of Hogwarts! He should have told someone when he found out that Gellert Grindelwald decided to go through with his plan! Instead he did nothing. He knew and did nothing!"
Severus stared emotionlessly at Lily's child, but his mind was racing with the information given to him just seconds ago.
"Tell me, Professor, how long did it take until you knew that the side you had joined was the wrong one - and don't come with you joined Dumbledore's side in 1979 when the prophecy was made. You might have dabbled into the Dark Arts, but you aren't a cruel man. So, how long until you knew you made a mistake?"
How did the boy know about the prophecy?
How did the boy know about Severus' change of heart?
Severus wanted to tell Lily's boy that he was wrong and that Severus had not understood the truth until the Dark Lord had target Lily. But that would have been a lie. As ensnared in the Dark Arts as Severus had been, he had known he had made a mistake after the first raid he had ever accompanied.
Before he could even think about answering, the boy's eyes lit up and Severus knew that Lily's child knew - he didn't know how, but the boy's eyes showed the truth.
"It was far earlier, wasn't it?" the boy said.
"Even if it was - it does not matter!" Severus answered sneering.
The answer was bitter smile.
"It does matter," the boy said. "You saw Tom Riddle's lies and even if you were unable to do something against him, you knew what you did was wrong ! Albus Dumbledore tells everyone that he was the first one to look behind the mask of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tell me, if he truly did - and he did, believe me - why didn't he do something about it? Instead of trying to change the way the boy was on, he settled on watching. He watched. He watched while Tom Marvolo Riddle killed a girl on school ground. He watched while Tom Marvolo Riddle murdered his own father. He watched while the new dark lord in the making dabbled in the Dark Arts - he always watched, doing nothing!"
"He fought against the Dark Lord!" Severus argued. His emotions were all over the place and at the same time tightly controlled. He couldn't bear to hear what he was hearing but his Slytherin mind told him to listen. But still, the Headmaster had been the one who had rescued Severus and who had given him a task to atone for his sins. The Headmaster had always fought in the war - there was no way he had damned the world by knowing about the new threat that Voldemort was, and not reacting, had he?
"He always did everything he could to stop the Dark Lord," the words sounded empty, but Severus had to say them anyway.
"Like he did something when my father and his friends bullied you?"
The portraits that listened and reported to the headmaster.
The wards that told him about the happenings on the school grounds.
Lily's child didn't mention any of them, but they were there and Severus knew of them, like every other Head of House did. They had to have been there as well when Severus had been a student. Not the child's words but true nevertheless.
Suddenly Severus' world had cracks all over. Albus Dumbledore hadn't known about the Marauders and their doings, had he?
An unbidden memory returned to him when he thought about it. He saw himself, dishelmed and frightened after his near-encounter with an enraged werewolf and he saw Albus Dumbledore, standing in front of him and instead of punishing Potter and his cronies, rewarding Potter, dismissing Black and telling him, the victim, that he wasn't allowed to speak about it to anyone if he didn't want to leave Hogwarts for good.
But that was a one time occurrence - an honest mistake on Albus Dumbledore's part, wasn't it?
"Did he do something about your father and his treatment towards you - especially after your mother died?" Lily's child asked. "And don't delude yourself that he didn't know - there are basic diagnostic charms every nurse or healer casts before treating a patient. Those diagnostic charms don't miss things like that."
Severus' clenched his fists. He knew of the charms. But they had started to use them after his time, hadn't they? There was no way they had known and done nothing! No one knew! No one had ever known - no one except for Lily…
But the child knew ! Somehow this boy, Lily's boy, knew about Severus' treatment at the hands of his father.
"Tell me, did he ever give you a way out after you came to him, pleading for my mother's life? Did he ever give you the choice to quit?"
Dumbledore had needed a spy, had needed him…
"He needed me where I was! And I had to atone for my sins!" this time Severus had to voice his thoughts. He couldn't keep quiet when the child tried to destroy the image he had built himself of the man who had taken him back even after he had done the unforgivable.
"What sins?!" Lily's child said. "When you joined, you were an eighteen-year-old, lost and disillusioned teen! Tell me, why did you join Tom Riddle? Was it because of his ideals?"
Severus sneered.
"Was it because of his charm?"
Severus sneered again.
"No! You were an angry teen who wanted nothing but being acknowledged for himself once in his life!" this time Severus couldn't sneer. How did Lily's child know? "You wanted someone to see you for you - and Tom Riddle promised you that. He promised you revenge against those who tormented you, he promised to see you for you! Of course his promises were nothing but lies - but you didn't know because you were a child! Children make mistakes and it is the job of their elders to forgive them and to show them the way! Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, let you down! No, instead of forgiving you he decided to use your guilt to trap you as a chess piece in his sick little game!"
"He did it to keep everyone safe - your parents included, boy!" Severus argued, his frustration and grieve were turning his eyes red while he desperately tried to stop the tears from spilling. He was the bat of the dungeon, the man without feelings, the nightmare of every Gryffindor. He didn't cry like a child - he hadn't cried since the day Lily left him for good. "It was his right! I made a mistake and I paid for it! I knew I made a mistake just days after I took the Dark Mark!"
"Yes, you made a mistake!" Lily's child interrupted him heatedly. "A single mistake and you are paying for it ever since! You knew you made the wrong choice just days after you made it, like every sane person with your background in the Muggle world would have known! You, not like the purebloods, knew that Tom Riddle did the wrong thing because you had experience in the Muggle world. You knew the good and the bad of both worlds - different than those purebloods in his service that feared what they didn't know."
"Really?" Severus sneered. "If I truly was so perfect - why did I stay true to the Dark Lord for nearly a year before betraying him?"
"Of course you didn't tell anyone," the boy replied snorting. "No sane Slytherin would have endangered his own life without a reason. It's the epitome of a Slytherin to be able to twist and to lie until no one knows the truth anymore, until he can deceive anyone - even the false Heir of Salazar Slytherin."
Severus sneered at Lily's child.
"You have no idea what it means to be a Slytherin, Lily's boy!" he hissed. "You have no idea what sins I committed in the name of the Dark Lord, what deeds I did to escape his wrath!"
The answer was an unsettling smile.
"Tell me, Professor, did you kill for him?" the boy asked softly, while returning to the middle of the room - nearing Severus until the potion's master was sure that the boy could see the red rim of his eyes, until he was sure that the boy could see the tears that tried to spill.
"How… how dare you… !"
"Ah, so you never killed," Lily's child said. "Then tell me, did you torture for him?"
Severus flinched.
And those green, green eyes were watching him, exposing all his secrets…
"How often?" the boy's voice was soft.
Severus tried to look away but those eyes held his gaze, captured it.
"So not really often - but you still feel guilty for it."
"I don't feel guilty!" Severus denied. The answer was a soft, warm smile.
"That's alright," Lily's child said. "I stopped feeling guilty for those I killed a long time ago - a Crucio is nothing against what I have done."
This time the potion's master sneered at Lily's boy.
"I am quite sure that you never killed, Lily's child," he hissed. "The Headmaster would have never allowed it!"
The child just looked at him. Then the boy shrugged.
"I'm quite sure that the first time I killed at least a body, even if it wasn't a person, was when I was just a fifteen months old child."
Severus sneered.
"Quit your arrogance, Potter!" he said. "Whatever happened that night, I'm sure you were the one who did the least!"
"Ah, but the ritual my mother used to protect me was taught and created by me - so wouldn't it have been my kill, how indirectly it had been at that time?" Potter said.
"What are you babbling about, Potter?" Snape hissed. "Are you delusional now?"
The answer was a predatory smile.
"Severus Snape, Head of House Slytherin," Potter said instead. "Why do you blame yourself when it was Dumbledore who stomped on my mother's sacrifice?"
Severus sneered.
"The Headmaster would never…"
"Petunia Evans," the boy interrupted him and Severus' sneer vanished when he remembered the awful girl who had always belittered Lily. Every other thought was swept away when he looked down at Lily's child.
"Why are you mentioning this vile woman?" he hissed.
"She didn't change from the time you knew her, you know?" the boy said. "Imagine what it was like, growing up in her loving care…"
Dark, little spaces and frying pans made their way in Severus' mind - memories he had seen in Lily's child's mind but had not paid attention to. He had not been interested in what he saw, he had just been interested in ending this cursed lesson as fast as possible.
Now he remembered them and shuddered inwardly.
His eyes were unconsciously searching those green, green eyes in front of him. His magic spiked and a not controlled Legilimency probe just added to what he already knew.
He didn't even think when he touched the child's chin, raising the boy's head to be able to look better in Lily's eyes.
"Who was the imbecile who put you there?" he hissed.
The boy smiled - but the smile clearly didn't reach those green, green eyes.
"Albus Dumbledore."
And Severus' world shattered fully.
Glasses with ingredients exploded. His desk was nothing but dust. His magic was raging against the castle walls and the moaning door.
Severus did not know if he should rage, cry or grieve. His emotions were all over the place when his Occlumency shields finally shattered under the last disheartening revelation.
He knew, the Headmaster meant to do the right thing.
He knew the Headmaster was good.
But it was too much.
Severus had fought in a war since he was old enough to leave school. The Headmaster, the great leader of the light, instead had opted to stand by and watch while others struggled.
Severus had lied for that man, spied for that man - all to keep Lily safe.
But Lily had died in the care of Albus Dumbledore.
Severus had gone to Azkaban for three months for this man. He had stayed true to his mask for this man - all to keep Lily's child safe.
And Albus Dumbledore had taken said child and placed it in the care of that one person Severus never had the chance to protect it from: its own aunt - a woman Severus had never thought of as the guardian of Lily's child.
In that moment one of his shelves gave in to the pressure and crashed before it was malmed into dust by Severus' magic.
Soft hands enveloped him, softly stroking his back in soothing circles. And the first tear fell from his eyes.
He was the bat of the dungeon, the man without feelings, the nightmare of every Gryffindor. He didn't cry like a child - he hadn't cried since the day Lily left him for good!
But then the soothing hand again circled his back and the next tear spilled. Severus' hands searched something to hold on, to rely on. Soft, black fabric was what he found. The fabric of the boy's robe.
He was the bat of the dungeon - again a tear leaked from his eyes.
He was the man without feelings - his fingers tightened their grip on Lily's child's robes.
He was the nightmare of every Gryffindor - and with a final soothing circle on his back his shoulders sacked and he began to sob his heart out. Until now, he had never allowed himself to grieve for Lily and for everything he lost. Until now, he had simply shut away his emotions and had instead relied on his hatred for Gryffindors and Potters especially to be able to continue his day.
He had been crushed by his fears and had struggled under the burden placed on his - at that time - far too young shoulders. He had never time to grow up because he had been shackled to the place of his darkest past - and at the same time he had been forced to grow up far too quickly.
And now he was sobbing on the shoulders of Lily's child. Relying on the strength of Lily's child. His hands fisted even more when again guilt crept into his consciousness. He shouldn't rely on a helpless teen in his distress. He was the adult, the boy the child.
It was another soothing circle that destroyed these thoughts again. It was the calm, shielding feeling of the boy's magic that made him rely on the child and it were those green, green eyes that destroyed the last bits of his resistance when he finally broke down in the arms of his student, unable to take the cruelty of the world any longer.
When Severus Snape awoke the next morning, he was lying on his couch in his quarters. On the table next to him was the well known letter he had gotten some days previously. Severus stared at it.
When did he put it there? He was sure he had placed it on his desk in his office the last time he had it in his hands.
The letter was open, displaying the invitation it contained.
To the Heir of the House Prince,
Child of the House of Prince, you have lived in honor of your ancestors. You have lived sly; you have lived cunning; you have lived true to your ideals. You have followed the way of your ancestors. I declare you the child of the beloved heir of my House. As such I will cherish you and aid you in your time of need. I will redeem your claim and return you to your rightful place. You are subject to my House and I will take you in as mine.
I invite you back in my family.
Answer my call, heir of my House, and return to your rightful place.
Hold on, I will take you home this Saturday at midnight.
I swear on my soul and magic you will be safe until you return.
The Head of the Family
Had Potter read it?
Then Severus shook his head to clear his mind. Potter couldn't have read it. Severus might not remember how he found his way into his quarters last night but Potter definitely hadn't been in here with him.
And the Occlumency lesson definitely hadn't taken place like he remembered it. There was no way he would break down in the arms of a student!
Sadly a certain part of Severus' mind - the Slytherin part - told him that he was delusioning himself and that it had happened. But it couldn't have. Potter… Potter hadn't been Potter yesterday. Especially not at the end.
So maybe the end hadn't happened but had been added as dreams to the lessons. Wishful thinking and all that. Sadly being an Occlumens made convincing himself that he had dreamed the end of the lesson impossible. An Occlumens always had a well sorted mind - to confuse a dream with reality definitely would destroy said sorting…
So there was just one thing Severus Snape could do now.
He had to regain his dignity.
Gryffindor House of Hogwarts would wish to be never born at the end of the following day.