Chapter One: Son

Harry opened his eyes. It was impossible to go to sleep. It would be bad enough if it was just the plane’s engines, but Dudley and Uncle Vernon were both snoring loudly. Aunt Petunia had earphones in and a sleep mask over her eyes – he couldn’t tell whether she was asleep or not.

This was the first time, he mused, the Dursleys had ever taken him on holiday with them. Shame they had to pick the summer following Voldemort’s return. The moment they arrived he would have to send an owl home to tell Dumbledore where he was – just in case.

Don’t be paranoid, he scolded himself. You’re turning into Moody. Voldemort has no idea you’re … He looked out of the window. In the middle of the ocean.

But it was always best to be safe.

Harry had first thought something was odd when Vernon squashed his trunk in with him instead of in the boot, as usual. Then he noticed that Dudley was clutching his full-to-bursting sports bag and Aunt Petunia had a cardboard box on her lap.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Vernon just grunted and climbed in the car. Petunia answered

“We’re going on holiday.”

“We?” Harry repeated, startled. “Me as well?”

“Yes. Now shut up, we don’t want to take a wrong turning.”

Harry had stayed silent, not sure what to think. A holiday with the Dursleys? Perhaps not as good as staying at the Weasleys’ for the summer, but it would hopefully be better than stuck in Privet Drive. And at least they seemed to have thought of taking him with them, instead of just dumping him on Mrs Figg. It was the thought that counted, right?

He sighed and leaned back in the plane seat. Something weird was going on, he could feel it. For a start, the Dursleys had always wanted to go to Majorca, and never anywhere else. But the plane was going to Greece. Secondly, he was pretty sure he didn’t have a passport. Vernon hadn’t let him see whatever it was he showed the guy at the airport. And thirdly, if they were only going on holiday, why did they have what seemed to be half the contents of Number Four with them? Harry had never been on holiday but he was pretty sure you didn’t usually take potted plants with you.

“Stella, wake up.”

The woman in the bed groaned and rolled over. Severus sighed. “Stella?” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the head. “I need to go.”

Stella opened one eye. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Albus says the Potter boy seems to have vanished. He wants me to help him find him.”

She sat up straight at that, brown tousled hair falling over her face.

“Harry’s vanished? How? When?”

“I don’t know,” Severus grumbled. “That’s what we need to find out. If the Dark Lord gets his hands on him -” He was broken off as Stella kissed him.

“I’m coming with you,” she said after they parted, standing shakily and feeling around for a dressing-gown.

“No you’re not. Stell. If he does have him, there could be a fight. I’m not letting you get involved in that.”

“Albus lets Minerva,” she said indignantly. “And you know how protective he is!”

“Minerva,” Severus replied, kissing Stella once one each cheek, “is not – to my knowledge – pregnant. (At her age, I doubt it.) And I’m sure if she was he wouldn’t. And I’m not letting you.”

Stella bristled. “I can still use a wand, thank you Severus! I am not completely inca – Mmph! Severus!”

“Not if you don’t have your wand,” he replied, waving it out of her reach.

“You are so childish sometimes, it’s a wonder you’re the father in this family.”

“Not yet,” Severus reminded her. “Until then, I’m keeping this.”

“Severus! Look, I know you don’t want anything to happen to me or the twins, but you’ve got to stop being so protective! I can look after myself and I want to help find Harry.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I care, that’s why. You’ve got your head so far up your -”

“Stella!”

“- you can’t see what a great kid he is,” she continued. “And talking of Harry, I have a bone to pick with you when you come back. When were you going to tell me you’re already a father? Albus mentioned it last night,” she added before Severus could open his mouth. “He mentioned that spell and explained it when I asked. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence. A long silence.

“HE SAID WHAT??”

“You didn’t bring Stella?” Albus asked, astonished. “I would have thought she would be here before you.”

Severus scowled. “She wanted to. But she’s not coming. Now, fill me in.”

Albus sighed. “The wards fell overnight. Harry hasn’t stepped in his house since last summer. We need to find out why, and where he is now.”

“And we’re doing that how?”

Albus steered him towards the Floo. “You first.”

Two minutes later the two wizards emerged, coughing, from Arabella Figg’s fireplace. Both declined the offer of chocolate cake and neither spoke on the short walk from her house to Privet Drive.

“Completely empty,” Severus declared, peering through a window. “Look, the basic furniture’s there but the other things – ornaments, plants, whatever, all those small insignificant things Muggles fill their houses with -”

“Severus, I don’t need a Muggle Studies lesson, I passed my NEWT with honours,” Albus said, a touch impatiently.

“- are gone. So what now?” Severus said, ignoring the last comment and stepping back, crushing the pansies.

Albus nodded at the woman across the road, pruning her hedges. “We ask the neighbours.”

“Give me a break,” Severus muttered.

“Excuse me!” Albus called, striding towards the Muggle. Severus groaned and followed reluctantly. “We’re looking for the Dursleys?”

“And their nephew,” Severus added. He might as well hurry this up.

Mrs Muggle looked them up and down curiously. “You’re too late, they did a runner yesterday. Said they were going to collect the boy from school and never left. They thought nobody noticed the suitcases.” She chuckled. “Idiots. I never liked them.”

“Why would they do a runner?” Albus asked.

“You mean you don’t know?” Severus wrinkled his nose as she took a drag from one of those horrible cigarette-things. “That boy of theirs got into trouble at school. Big trouble, this time.” She gleefully recounted the gossip. “Had a fight with this guy from the next neighbourhood. Knocked him out and ran for it. ‘Course, there were witnesses, and this guy got taken to ‘ospital. Next thing you know, the cops are knocking on that door -” she nodded at Number Four “- saying this guy’s dead. In a nice loud voice so we could all ‘ear. And their spoilt brat done for manslaughter. The trial’s supposed to be this week but they’ve obviously legged it.”

“Any idea where they might have gone?” Albus pressed.

She shrugged. “Not a clue. You can rule our Majorca though. They may be idiots but they’re not stupid enough to go to their favourite holiday place.”

Albus thanked her politely and they turned away.

“Well, that was really helpful,” Severus demonstrated his famous sarcasm. “Now what? If the wards are down -”

“- I know, we can’t use them to detect Harry’s whereabouts,” Albus sighed. He suddenly brightened. “But we can find out another way.”

“We can?”

Albus waited till the woman had her back turned then quickly opened the door of Number Four with his wand and they slipped inside. There was a telephone on the hall table. Albus picked up the receiver and started doing something to it with his wand.

“Hurry up,” Severus muttered. “For all we know the police could be here any minute.”

“I’m running through the numbers,” Albus replied. “Aha!”

“What?”

“This one’s to an airport … they’ve booked four tickets to Athens. Leaving last night.” He put down the phone.

“Perfect,” Severus muttered. He hated hot weather.

“You mean we’re not going back?”

“Clever,” Vernon growled. “Get out of my sight and help your aunt unpack.”

“But – but -” Harry stammered. “What about school?”

“There are plenty of good schools round here for Dudley to choose from, and I’m sure your kind has some other freaky place in this country somewhere -”

“I can’t just leave Hogwarts!”

“You already have! And don’t use that word in front of me again! When you’ve done your bit you can write to whoever is in charge of your schooling and sort it out yourself. I’m not signing any bloody bits of paper for you.”

Harry was speechless. The Dursleys had never liked him going to Hogwarts but after they had failed to stop him three summers running, he didn’t think they would actually do anything like this.

“But why -”

“Just do as you’re told, boy!”

Miles away, Severus was also thinking the same word.

“Why do we have to go the Muggle way, Albus?” he moaned. “Why do we even have to go at all?”

“To your first question,” Albus replied over the voice of the flight attendant, “we don’t want to attract unwanted attention.” Severus grumbled wordlessly. “And to your second …” he hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I have a gut feeling.”

“About what?”

“That something is wrong. Buckle up.”

Severus stopped moaning and did so.

The trip was long. Severus had never liked Muggle transport, but taking a Portkey was too risky and you couldn’t just Apparate to somewhere you had never been – you had to have a clear picture in your mind, or risk splinching. Severus had done that once as a teenager and had no wish to repeat the experience.

He managed to sleep for a while, but was jerked awake when the plane hit an air pocket. Slightly green, he had to breathe into a paper bag for a few minutes before he recovered. Folding it up and putting it in his pocket in case he needed it again, he spotted Albus staring out of the window, looking rather … unsure of himself.

“Albus?” he asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

“Severus … what if something’s happened to him?”

“What are you asking me for?” Severus was shocked at the tone of Albus’ voice. He never spoke like that.

“I … I’m worried,” Albus admitted. He was staring out of the window unseeingly. Severus could see his face reflected in the glass. “After last term … I swore to myself I wouldn’t let anything else happen to him.”

Severus was tempted to snort but it didn’t seem appropriate. “A pretty stupid thing to swear, if you ask me. How are you supposed to keep that promise?”

“I don’t know,” Albus said hollowly. “I just … I felt like I had failed him. After all I did to protect him he still managed to go through everything under Hogwarts’ roof and … I wanted to make myself think that there wouldn’t be any more. Because I don’t think I could take it otherwise.”

“Albus.” Severus was feeling uncomfortably out of his depth. The only person he had ever really spoken to about this sort of emotion was Stella. And they had only been together a year and a half. “He’ll be fine. In case you hadn’t noticed, Potter has a useful habit of getting himself out of difficult situations.” And into them, but this was not the best time to mention that.

“He has to fail at some point. He can’t keep escaping easily, Severus. One day -”

“- he will have to face the Dark Lord, and hopefully win,” Severus finished for him. “And then you will feel stupid for ever doubting him.”

“Severus, he’s just a child! Talented or not. He shouldn’t have to escape from these situations.”

“We don’t even know he is in a situation.”

“I told you, gut feeling. It’s never wrong.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“That’s what I was trying to say just now.”

“Albus, for goodness’ sake! I’m supposed to be the pessimist. You’re usually so bloody cheerful and optimistic it makes my senses hurt. What’s changed?”

Albus just shook his head. For a moment Severus thought he wasn’t going to reply. “It’s just …” Albus swallowed and Severus was stunned to see his usually bright eyes pained. “I lost a child once. I can’t lose another.”

Those two sentences would have made Severus go “Huh?”, but it wasn’t a very Severus thing to do. Instead, there was a long pause, before he said quietly, “What do you mean?”

Albus closed his eyes. After a moment he murmured, “Do you remember Emerald Brian? She started Hogwarts in your seventh year.”

Severus thought. “I remember the name. I can’t match a face though.”

“She ran away.” Albus heaved a sigh. “On her seventeenth. She didn’t even pack. Or say goodbye. She just left. We … Minerva and I … don’t even know for sure she’s still alive.” A tear managed to escape his eye.

“I … didn’t know,” Severus said awkwardly. After a moment he put a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “Sorry.” It seemed a stupid thing to say, but Albus accepted it.

“Thank you.”

Severus waited. Albus wiped his face with his sleeve and went back to staring out of the window.

“Albus.”

“Severus?”

“What I actually meant was … what do you mean by ‘another’?”

Albus sighed. “I’d have thought that was obvious.”

“You mean … the spell?”

The older wizard nodded. “You mean you never actually realised?”

“You mean that Potter has my DNA? Too right I never bloody realised. I had to find out from Stella this morning.” Severus cut himself off from the angry rant he wanted to throw at Albus – now didn’t seem a good time. “Why … why did she run away?”

“Because.” Albus seemed to debate answering before he said, “I wasn’t her father. Minerva was already pregnant when we married. I adopted her and we didn’t speak about it. Then she found out. And she hated me for it. She left.” He swallowed. “End of story.”

“You mean you didn’t tell her before she turned of age? That’s not like you, Albus. Why ever not?”

“The same reason I have never told Harry the truth.”

Back to Potter then. “Why’s that?”

Albus looked at him for the first time in minutes. “How do you tell someone they’re the child of the Dark Lord?”

The voices were strange, very strange. A different language, Harry realised. Of course – he was in Athens. Stupid. But where in Athens?

Harry opened one eye and wished he hadn’t. Wherever he was, it was bright white. He squeezed his eyes shut again for a few moments before trying again.

It was a hospital. Harry blinked. Was he hurt? He slowly sat up. There was a tube sticking out of his arm and a wire linking him to a machine measuring his pulse. He was suddenly struck by a dizzy spell and fell backwards on to the pillows. A nurse – at least, Harry assumed she was a nurse by the uniform – up the other end of the ward spotted him and made her way towards him with a clipboard.

“Um, hello,” Harry said weakly. “Uh, d’you speak English?”

The string of words that made no sense to him whatsoever answered his question: no. Harry frowned, trying to work out what she was saying by her facial expressions, but it seemed all she was doing was enquiring how he was feeling.

Harry put a hand to his forehead. “Not very good.” As he did so he realised there was a bandage on his hand. What was wrong with him? He didn’t remember. As well as feeling dizzy he also felt sick and he had an aching pain all over. “What’s wrong with me?”

The nurse just replied in Greek and made gestures, meaning she didn’t understand. Harry closed his eyes and groaned. Just his luck, the first time he’d been ill in the summer holidays, to be stuck in a foreign country. He couldn’t even ask where his relatives were.

Wait. Something was coming back to him. He’d been unpacking … in the bathroom? Oh, that was right – he was putting the towels on the rails for his aunt. There had been something in the bath … Harry strained his memory. A snake!

And not just any snake – a Runespoor. A three-headed magical snake. If he remembered his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, one of the Runespoor’s heads was extremely venomous.

Had it bitten him? Harry examined the bandage on his wrist before poking it and winced. Yes it had. Great.

Dear Professor Dumbledore –

I’m in trouble. I don’t know if you know yet but my family moved to Athens and have taken me with them. I’m in a (Muggle) hospital with a Runespoor bite and no-one can understand what I’m saying and I don’t know where my family are. Please help!

Harry Potter

The bite and the bandage was preventing Harry from being able to hold the biro properly – his hand was aching and the bulk meant he was holding the pen rather awkwardly. Harry hoped his handwriting would be legible. If not, he was in even bigger trouble.

As he wrote, Harry could feel the venom taking a hold on his him – as well as dizziness, he kept getting black spots and a sick feeling was rising in the back of his throat. He tried to remember all he could about Runespoors, but as they hadn’t covered them in Defence yet it was fruitless. Harry just hoped that he’d be able to fight it long enough for the letter to reach Dumbledore.

That was a point. Harry stopped writing. How was he supposed to get the letter to him? He didn’t even know where Hedwig was and he couldn’t just get out of bed and look for her. He didn’t even think he could get out of bed at all – his legs didn’t feel like they could hold him.

For the first time since the tournament, Harry felt real fear grip him. Was he going to die?

***

Severus’ feet hurt. He and Albus had been round and round the same neighbourhoods over and over again. Albus at least was driven by anxiety, but Severus, who thought they were wasting their time charging around after Potter when the boy was perfectly capable of looking after himself, was exhausted.

“Can – we – please – slow – down – or – stop – or – something?” he gasped, leaning against a lamp-post for support and clutching a stitch.

Albus shook his head. “Something is wrong, I can feel it. We can’t stop now.”

“Tell – you – what,” Severus wheezed. “You – find - Potter – and I …” he trailed off. “Isn’t – that – the – boy?”

Albus whirled round, obviously thinking he meant Harry, but Severus had spotted a round, blonde teenager largely resembling Dursley Sr sitting on a bench, a Greek phrase book clutched in his hands and a pained frown on his face.

“Severus,” Albus said warningly, “don’t -”

Dudley squealed as Severus took him by the scruff of the neck. He would have liked to have lifted the boy up into the air and shake him, but it would short of using magic it would probably take both him and Albus, who wasn’t really the shaking sort.

“Master Dursley, am I right?” Severus breathed dangerously.

“Severus, put him down!”

“N-n-no!” Dudley stammered.

People were staring. Severus quickly tipped the contents of a vial of Veritaserum down the boy’s throat.

“Your name?”

“D-Dudley.”

“Where’s your cousin?”

“I-I d-dunno – M-Mum and Dad t-took him somewhere.”

Severus shoved the antidote down him and dropped him. Dudley scrambled away from him and round the corner.

“You know what would have been more enjoyable?” Albus said wearily. “We walk past him making sure he hears us talking about wizards, and see him panic. That way would also mean he draws the attention, not us.”

“Albus, you Slytherin!”

“Well, it was almost my House. Speaking of houses, we need to follow him to his. Come on.”

It took an Alohomora, twenty minutes of circular interrogation and the Transfiguring of Dudley into every farm animal that came into Severus’ head (actually, there had been no need for any more Transfiguration after the first one, but Severus had enjoyed it too much) for Petunia to admit what had happened: Harry had been bitten by some kind of snake, passed out on the kitchen floor and Vernon wouldn’t take the boy to hospital unless Petunia agreed that they never see Harry again. Not wanting Harry to die (despite all the harsh treatment over the years – he was her sister’s son, after all), Petunia had let them leave him at a hospital a few miles away without giving the hospital staff any information about them.

“What hospital?” Albus asked patiently. Petunia was watching Dudley clucking on the kitchen floor.

“I wish you’d let me keep him a goat,” Severus grumbled as they left the house five minutes later, after dragging directions to the hospital from Petunia.

“I’m not saying Vernon didn’t deserve it, Severus, but all the legal matter aside, I have been a goat myself briefly and it is not an experience I would wish on anyone, even a man as – impolite – as him.”

“Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted. And I can at least sleep soundly tonight knowing those blasted Dursleys are going to be spending a long time trying to put their son right.”

Albus stopped and Severus walked into him. “What did you do to him? I thought you reversed the Transfiguration spell?”

“Almost.” Severus chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say the family won’t be short of eggs for a while.”

For a moment Albus’ moustache quivered and Severus thought he was trying to restrain himself from shouting at him, but was taken by surprise when Albus burst out laughing.

The wizards’ humorous mood didn’t last long. Severus hung back as they reached the hospital. So Potter had got a snake bite. Big deal. The Muggles could cure him, couldn’t they? But when he mentioned this to Albus, the older wizard shook his head.

“Maybe, but maybe not. And besides, the Dursleys have said they won’t have him back now. We need to take him back to Britain and work out what we’re going to do.”

“You mean what you’re going to do,” Severus muttered, but not so Albus could hear.

***

Greek seemed to be one of the many languages Albus had accumulated over the years, and after two minutes’ flirting with the receptionist he pushed Severus first towards the stairs. “Ward 22.”

It didn’t take long to find Harry. Each of the doors had a circle of glass near the top, and it took a glance through each one to tell if the boy was there or not. Severus spotted him through the third door.

“You go in. I’ll probably give him a heart attack.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Albus muttered and strode past Severus into the ward. The door swung back and hit Severus in the face. He cried out and massaged his nose, watching the headmaster.

Albus paused by Harry’s bed, before leaning over and resting a hand on his. The boy was asleep and very pale, with Muggle machines clustered round his bed. He stirred a little as Albus spoke softly to him, but didn’t wake.

Someone behind Severus spoke in Greek, and he turned to see what was presumably a doctor asking him something.

“I’m with him,” Severus stated clearly, pointing at Albus, who was picking up a piece of scrap paper from the bedside table. Feeling it would be a good idea to join him, Severus excused himself just as Albus beckoned to him, and he entered the ward.

“Look at this.” Albus’ face was white. Severus read his way through the scribbled note.

“That’s not good.”

“Not good?” Albus hissed. “Is that all you can say? Severus, that’s one of the most lethal poisons in existence. We have to get him home.”

“Albus.”

“What?”

“Not trying to be insensitive, but is there any point? I mean … no antidote for Runespoor venom has ever been found.”

“Then we’ll be the first to find one. Contact Poppy and warn her, I’ll get Harry out of here.”

There was a determined glint Severus had never seen before in Albus’ eyes. Feeling it was better not to argue, he did as he was told.

***

“I don’t believe it.” Minerva was pacing the dungeon. “I turn my back for five minutes and you lose him?”

“To be fair, my dear, his family took straight off with him once he was off the station. It’s not our fault. And anyway, he’s back now.”

“Oh yes, he’s back! With half a pint of venom in his bloodstream!”

“Minerva,” Severus said through gritted teeth, “if you want that half-pint of venom out his bloodstream then you’re going to have to stop shouting and let me concentrate!”

“Severus, you know as well as I do that there’s no anti -”

“Tell that to Albus.”

“No antidote has ever been found,” Albus said clearly to them both. “That does not mean there isn’t one.”

“But, Albus …” Minerva said carefully. “The chances …”

“I know they’re not good. But I have to try something.” Albus’ voice cracked and he turned away.

“Severus,” Minerva said quietly, “could you leave us for a moment?”

Severus sighed, saw the looks on their faces, nodded and left silently, closing the door softly behind him.

Minerva took a deep breath and addressed her husband.

“This is about Emmie, isn’t it?”

“No,” Albus replied quietly. “This is about Harry.”

“Albus. Look. I know you don’t want to lose Harry. Neither do I. But … you have to accept that there is a possibility – strong possibility – a probability – that we may not be able to save him.”

“I know.” Albus swallowed hard. “I just … I can’t let him go without trying everything possible. I can’t.” He looked down.

Minerva’s face softened. “Albus, you don’t have to hide from me.” She stepped round the cauldron and slid onto his lap, putting her arms around him. Albus closed his eyes and accepted the hug.

“I know I’m probably going to lose him. I’m just trying not to think about it. Because when I worry I can’t concentrate.”

A single tear ran down his face.

***

“How long does Runespoor venom take to become fatal?” Stella asked worriedly, staring down at the limp body in the bed.

“About ten days. But I don’t know when he got the bite. Damn, I knew there was something else we should have asked the Muggles.”

Stella smiled slightly at the self-deprecating tone. “Oh, Severus! You do care.”

He scowled. “I do not. I just don’t think he’ll be in much of a position to defeat the Dark Lord if he’s dead. He personally means nothing to me.”

Stella continued smiling. “Well, maybe that can change. Just give it time.” She paused. “And I don’t think you should be talking about the you-know-what around him.”

“Albus was going to tell him anyway.”

“And you know what he’s like. He’ll spend all year thinking it can wait a bit longer, and then Harry will find out by himself and be really mad.”

“This is assuming we can actually find an antidote in time to administer it.”

“I have faith in you and Albus. If anyone can cure Harry you two can. Now go away and get a move on.” Stella kissed him on the cheek. “Poppy and I will look after Harry.”

Severus muttered something about not being bothered about looking after the boy, but left the Hospital Wing, not missing the knowing look on Stella’s face and not being cheered up by it in the least.