When time stands still…

Black’s glare seemed to be intensifying with each second, but Severus didn’t back down. Never let your enemy glimpse your jugular, he told himself silently. Black seemed to be holding firmly to the same mantra.

He didn’t even look away as he asked, “What is he doing here, Remus?”

Severus cut Remus off before he could answer. “Even you should be able to understand that it would be extremely foolish to send your friend in here alone,” he drawled, ignoring the faint look of hurt in Remus’ brown eyes to raise his eyebrow in challenge at Black. Black scowled at him, before finally turning to Remus.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” he asked. It looked very much like Remus was trying not to glance at Severus.

“He stayed behind to anchor us,” he explained after a beat.

Severus watched Black’s reaction carefully. He needn’t have bothered.

“Harry told Dumbledore about his dreams then?” Black asked, his face set in a firm grimace of discomfort.

Remus’ mouth parted in surprise, while Severus’ expression didn’t change.

“What do you know of his nightmares?” he demanded. Black’s eyes flicked his way briefly.

“Harry’s been lost to Voldemort then?” he asked of Remus, his features having now lost all of their momentary happiness. His fingertips gripped into his palms as he waited for an answer.

”How did you know that?” Severus inquired coldly, his suspicions spiking as he narrowed his eyes at the Marauder. Black’s face snapped toward him; his curled fingers were held tautly at his sides now.

“This is none of your business, Snape,” he growled. “Harry doesn’t need your help.”

“Sirius-” Remus cautioned quietly, but Black shook his dark head quickly.

“Remus,” he interrupted, sounding almost desperate, “Dumbledore must have understood what was happening. I don’t know how he did it, but Voldemort been trying to steal Harry’s soul.”

“I know, Padfoot,” Remus said gently. “Severus and I came to bring him back.”

Sirius turned again sharply to Severus. “If Dumbledore sent you along because he thinks you can somehow reach Harry because of your Occlumency less-”

“Were you sending the dreams as a warning?” Severus interrupted smoothly, paying no heed to the way the other’s man’s eyelids were snapping.

“Yes,” Black bit out. “Or did you think I was simply trying to give Harry a good fright?” he asked sarcastically.

Severus’ left eyebrow arched. “That is precisely what he thought,” he agreed. Black’s face went a shade lighter as he stared at Severus. “He believes you blame him for your death, and therefore, were attempting to kill him as your revenge,” Severus added harshly, enjoying the way Black’s features were paling with each word.

“But…” the other man floundered, “…of course it wasn’t Harry’s fault. He mustn’t…” His mouth closed slowly as he apparently lost the ability to speak.

Remus put a hand on Black's shoulder, sparing a second to narrow his eyes in disapproval at Severus first. Severus ignored the vague impression that he should have felt guilty for the unnecessary comment. “You know how Harry blames himself for things, Padfoot,” Remus soothed.

“But I was trying to tell him what Voldemort had done,” he whispered. Remus patted his shoulder in a comforting manner; Severus pressed his lips together.

“What were you trying to warn Harry of?” Remus asked him, using the voice that irritated Severus so much. Black looked up at Remus, his light eyes haunted.

“I saw it,” he explained. “I saw them battle…saw him trying to tear Harry’s soul apart.”

“Voldemort took a piece of his soul with him, when he retrieved the piece of his own,” Severus cut in, finally understanding why Harry had cried out in such anguish when what was left of the icy claw had ripped itself from Harry’s storm in the void. And why Harry had continued to be so cold… Even Lily’s and James’ refusal to allow Harry entrance beyond the mist made sense now.

He hadn’t been whole.

“Harry’s been without a piece of his soul since he left the void? And you’ve somehow been in contact with him, Sirius?” Remus was asking in a pained voice, pulling Severus from his guilty musings.

“I could almost feel him…as though I was a part of him sometimes…”

Remus darted a glance toward Severus as Harry’s behavior over the past few days suddenly began to make sense to both of them. Severus’ jaw clenched around the angry accusation he wanted to hurl at Black. But he should have recognized what was happening. He’d driven his son away because he’d been too self-absorbed to understand. How many times had Harry mentioned Black in the past few days, speaking about him with such discomfort?

Severus shook his head angrily. “We are wasting time,” he snapped, at neither one of them in particular. Black’s eyes narrowed.

“Anxious to get back to your potions, Snivellus?” he growled. “How much you must resent Dumbledore for sending you in here to retrieve James’ son.”

Severus didn’t contradict him, though he could hear Remus’ breath drawn in quickly, and then held softly as he waited for him to explode, or perhaps gloat. But Severus didn’t need to gloat. And he couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk Harry on Black’s purported loyalty.

He was shocked however as he heard Remus’ low command, “Don’t call him that, Sirius.” Before Black’s neck could finish snapping back toward his friend, Remus said quietly, “We’re here for Harry.”

Severus watched as Black’s laryngeal prominence bobbed along his neck a few times, and then the Marauder was nodding jerkily. As though in an effort to prove to Remus that he was no longer the bully that Severus knew he would always be, Black turned back to Severus. He no longer scowled, but neither could Severus have said that he was smiling. He gave Severus the tiniest of nods before turning his attention fully to Remus.

“Harry isn’t here,” he said.

Severus only nodded. He, after all, had not expected to find his son waiting for them as they crossed through the veil.

“When Harry and Dumbledore banished Voldemort’s soul,” Black continued, and Remus’ brown eyes lit in surprise at his mistake, but Black didn’t notice as he went right on, “it came to rest in a place that I can only think is hell.” Black’s lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “Though,” he mused, “I don’t know how much worse it can possibly be than this.”

Remus’ brows shot up, obviously not yet caught up with the idea of Black’s enforced stay in this nothingness. Black, sensing his confusion, shrugged.

“I’ve been here since Bellatrix hit me with that spell. I’ve tried…wandered, for Merlin knows how long, in so many different spaces. But they won’t let me go any further…not even to where the likes of Voldemort are allowed to go.”

“You know how to find Voldemort?” Severus asked quickly, ignoring Black’s obvious bitterness, as well as the pain he could read all over the man’s face.

“Of course,” Black returned darkly.

“Then why are we still standing here?” Severus growled, chafing now to stop standing in this empty space. The desolation was clinging to him, just as it had when they’d battled Voldemort in the void. This place felt the same...

“It’s not that simple, Snape,” Black growled right back, his teeth baring so that he reminded Severus of that huge dog. That night near the Whomping Willow. A shiver of residual fear slunk up his back. Severus gritted his teeth and forced himself to remember where he was. He was not a wretched child any longer.

He was about to order Black to get on with it, but Remus interrupted again.

“What do we need to do, Sirius?” he asked, his voice once again soothing, grating more insistently against Severus’ temples.

Black dragged his stormy eyes back to Remus.

“We can’t get in,” he stressed again. Severus stepped forward, his impatience finally overflowing.

“We will get in,” he stated, knowing he would accept no other outcome.

“What the hell do you think you can do that I can’t?” Black demanded, and Severus almost smirked at the childish question.

He restrained himself though to answer calmly, “Lupin and I are bonded together while we remain in this place.” Black’s lip curled upward in disgust, and Severus was surprised that he felt a strong urge to backhand the other man for his unintended insult. He ignored his own unrecognizable feelings to continue placidly, “We will not fail.”

“There are three of us,” Remus added. He had shifted his body a little so that he stood closer to Severus, though he hadn’t completely turned his back.

Sirius grimaced even as he sighed in acceptance of what Remus was implying. “It isn’t as though we are going to simply walk into Voldemort’s lair,” he said with an irritated shake of his head; his dark hair danced in agitation around his shoulders. “There are no straight paths that will lead us to him,” he explained. It took all of Severus’ control not to grab the Marauder and throttle him until he ceased speaking in riddles.

“Do you have any useful information?” he scathed when he felt in sufficient control. Black’s jaw flexed repeatedly, but he didn’t look at Severus.

“Are you certain he’s not working for Voldemort?” Black asked through mashed teeth. Despite himself, Severus stiffened at the old accusation.

Remus closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Padfoot, Severus isn’t here to help Voldemort, and yes,” he stressed as Black opened his mouth to argue, “I am certain he is not working for Voldemort.” Black’s teeth did not separate; he folded his arms over his chest in silent refusal to believe. Remus gazed at Severus, silently asking permission to reveal his secrets. Severus turned away, not wanting to see Black’s delight in Voldemort’s revenge.

“Voldemort discovered he was spying for Dumbledore. He almost died from the torture,” he heard Remus saying quietly. “He’s never been on Voldemort’s side, Sirius,” he added, and Severus had to wonder at the pointed remark. But there was no response from Black, so Severus turned back around.

Black’s arms had fallen limply at his sides. His eyes raked over Severus. Still, he made no comment. With a sharp nod that seemed to be aimed nowhere, he finally turned on his heel and warned without turning his head, “Stay close.” Remus hesitated, his gaze darting swiftly between Severus and Black. Severus, with a terse nod of his head, solved the other man’s dilemma and Remus, with a look of regret, caught up with Black’s quick steps. Severus fell in behind them.

Severus watched the back of Black’s head, grateful that he would never have to see the man after this. He didn’t want to even have to think about old wounds. His chest was beginning to ache with the pain of Harry’s missing wisp. He needed to get his son back—nothing else mattered until he did.

--

Sirius’ heart jerked against his ribs as he turned away from Snape.

Tortured.

The word rang dully in his ears.

There must have been proof. Otherwise Remus wouldn’t have said it with such absolute authority. As though he’d seen at least some part of what had happened to the Slytherin. He wanted to ask Remus so many questions, but not like this. Not in front of Snape, who would never be silent through the many queries.

And whatever he wanted to know, the updates he would have liked to hear, none of it mattered now. Not while Harry was lost. He’d been trying to reach his godson, desperately, though he had no idea how he was even managing it at all.

“Harry can’t really believe I’d be angry with him—that I’d blame him,” Sirius said quietly, knowing that Snape would be able to hear. But he couldn’t not say it. The words made him feel ill and he needed to hear Remus tell him that of course Harry could never believe that about him.

“You know what a rough time he had of it at Hogwarts during the past year,” Remus told him, though he made no effort to dim his voice. It echoed loudly in the darkness. “When you…” Remus’ words became clogged with emotion, “…he was devastated…”

Sirius squeezed his fingers against his friend’s shoulder, knowing first-hand what it meant to lose a friend. “I hope I’ll have a chance to explain,” he said, his chest expanding with pain as he thought of the grief Harry must have experienced. “How long has it been?” he asked.

“Christmas holidays are only a few weeks away,” Remus answered.

It might have been long enough for Harry to have finished grieving for him then. If he hadn’t come back to haunt his nightmares…

Sirius glanced around as memories began to move in slow motion around him. He largely ignored them, though Regulus’ face seemed larger now than it usually did. He couldn’t figure out if his brother looked smug or regretful. Sirius told himself he didn’t really care.

“What’s happening?” Remus asked him sharply. Sirius glanced over at his friend. He was pale, his eyes darting wildly around him. Sirius stopped his quick pace; he heard Snape growl something obscene at him as his black robes brushed up against his back.

“They are your memories,” the great black bat of a man said to Remus and, for a second, Sirius almost thought Snape would not have chosen Remus’ slow death had he been offered it.

“Your life ‘flashing’ before your eyes,” Sirius told his friend, wondering what Remus had seen that had upset him so. “You all right?” he asked, hoping that Snape wouldn’t make a comment about Remus being weak. But Snape said nothing, and in fact, he was watching Remus carefully. Sirius pushed down the twinge of disquiet in his gut while Remus nodded.

“Not exactly all pleasant ones,” he murmured, sounding distant. Sirius nodded in understanding as his mother’s face swam in front of the vast expanse of darkness.

“Lupin!”

Remus started at the harsh word. Sirius turned to glare at Severus, but Severus didn’t even look angry as he waited for Remus to respond. Remus’ eyes were coming back into focus. He shook his head a little. Sirius, turning his back on Snape, took Remus’ elbow and nudged him forward again.

They walked in silence, seeming not to move forward at all, but the darkness surrounding them was becoming lighter, though it was no less muddy. The whispering voices no longer bothered Sirius, though he could hear Remus’ sharp breath of surprise, and even Snape’s breathing changed.

“…going…right,” a soft female voice was fading in and out. “…dad…find Voldemort... …Remus…until…have you….”

The answering silence was menacing.

Sirius’ dark eyebrows shot up. It sounded like Ginny Weasley, and she was clearly where ever Harry was. A pang dug at Sirius as he thought of James, wishing desperately that his friend could have been here to help them.

“Where are they?” he asked softly. Remus swallowed before he answered.

“In front of the veil, with Albus and Poppy.”

“And that’s Ginny…” Sirius murmured.

Remus nodded, smiling a little in affirmation of Sirius’ unasked question. Sirius almost smiled at the thought of his Harry…and his first girlfriend, until his gaze rested on Snape. His lips were mashed together so tightly, they were paling toward ivory. His stance so erect that Sirius would have thought he’d been turned to stone. And yet somehow, Sirius could find nothing but wretched agony in the stance. He found it difficult to draw his eyes from the empty black pools.

“What is this?” Remus asked quietly,

“I was able to reach Harry sometimes in here. I think it was usually when he was weakest. When Voldemort was trying to pull him away. When he was sleeping, it was easier…but that only happened twice.”

“Poppy gave him a dream suppressive,” Remus told him, his eyes inexplicably glued to Snape, who by now had begun moving again.

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Sirius called to him, though he wasn’t going to admit that he wouldn’t need to. Snape’s black robes didn’t pause in their oddly slow-motion flapping. And not giving him a chance to argue anymore, though he found he didn’t much care to, Remus had grabbed his arm and was tugging him after Snape.

--

Remus searched for something comforting to say to Severus, though he knew he wouldn’t say anything at all. Not after the promise he’d made to Severus, though he didn’t particularly enjoy Severus’ cutting remarks; they made him feel too much like they’d stepped back months in time. He knew it was only a show for Sirius, but that made it no easier to accept.

And he’d argued with Severus for quite awhile as they’d waited for Albus to lead them to the Ministry. About Sirius. Even though Severus had not really believed that they would find Sirius intact. But Severus wouldn’t be swayed on this point regardless. He didn’t trust that Sirius would be willing to help them if he knew the truth.

“Can you tell me with absolute certainty that Black will not turn against Harry if he learns that he has been my son along?” Severus had asked.

He had nodded in finality as soon as Remus paused. Remus had wanted to tell him, of course Sirius would never renounce his relationship with Harry, but in truth, he couldn’t be certain. Not when Sirius had loved James so much, and had even from time to time, almost forgotten that Harry wasn’t James. And so he’d agreed, no matter that the guilt of the lie was breaking his heart as he moved now beside his friend.

Sirius had a right to know. He was Harry’s godfather. But Severus had been unmovable against that argument. The knowledge of why Sirius was chosen made Remus ache just as much as the lie. There were simply too many lies, and Remus wondered for the first time as he watched Sirius studying Snape’s dark head, if Sirius would have ever been able to forgive James.

Remus blinked rapidly as he realized Severus and Sirius had both stopped moving. Their eyes were turned toward a misty whiteness that seemed too far away to be so very close.

“They’re guarding the entrance,” Sirius said, indicating the two silver forms poised together as sentinels. A doe and a stag. Remus’ eyes went immediately to Severus. He was staring intently at the softly glowing pair.

“James…Lily,” Remus heard himself saying in a hushed voice, and he could see Severus tensing slightly at the unintentional observation.

“I’ve never made it any closer than this,” Sirius told him as he nodded sadly. And yet Remus felt sure that he could touch them, if he only leaned forward a little bit.

“If the two of you are planning on sightseeing, perhaps I should go on without you.”

Severus’ voice cut in harshly through the emptiness. Remus sighed without a sound. Sirius spun to glare at Severus.

“You stopped first,” he snapped. “And you need us. Harry isn’t about to trust you to help him. Not after how you’ve treated him for the past five years,” he said pointedly. Remus stomach twisted a little as he watched Severus’ jaw stiffen. But the Potions Master didn’t respond. He pivoted away from them and stalked onward, his black robes oddly still as he moved.

“Sirius, that isn’t helping,” Remus chided softly as he and Sirius followed, Sirius with a last look toward the doe and stag. Sirius shot him an irritated look.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, not quite as softly. “He’s been a complete bastard to Harry ever since his first day at Hogwarts. Harry has got a right not to trust him,” Sirius reminded him angrily, and Remus knew by the fisted hands at Severus’ side, that he had heard.

“Voldemort isn’t going to let Harry go without a fight, wouldn’t you agree?” Remus asked, trying to keep the anxiety about both Harry and Severus from spilling over.

“I assume he’ll try to suck our souls away as well,” Sirius replied, his voice shivering a little.

“We’ll be stronger if we can work together, Padfoot,” Remus told him. When Sirius snorted at the very idea of working together with Severus, Remus added, “I know the two of you have a history that neither one of you is willing to let go, but this is for Harry, Sirius.” Sirius didn’t answer; he was still staring straight ahead. Wishing that just for once, Severus didn’t have better hearing than the bat that Harry teased him about being, Remus said as quietly as he could, “Harry needs you.”

Remus cringed as he watched Severus’ ever-smooth steps waver, but then he was striding as assuredly as ever. Remus squeezed his eyes together briefly with his thumb and forefinger, wishing he could just explain to Severus that he had nothing to fear from Sirius. Harry was Severus’ son, and nothing would change that. Harry would always need him. But even as the thought secured itself in his mind, Remus’ heart filled with remorse at the thought of the last words he’d exchanged with Harry—Severus’ last exchange with Harry had been even worse.

Harry had believed that his father had sent him away. And he seemed no longer to understand that Remus considered him as dear a friend as Sirius and James had been. Harry had cowered, Severus had explained, in the trappings of his mind, waiting for his godfather to kill him.

He’d even begged Severus not to hate him. He thought they all hated him.

--

Severus was rapidly failing in his attempt to keep his emotions under control. Black’s words had cut him, piercing into him over and over as they repeated themselves in his mind. Harry isn’t about to trust you… Harry has a right not to trust you…

Remus’ words of reassurance to Black taunted the first. The truth of them sliced through all of Severus’ resolve. Harry would need Black..

Harry would know that Black did not hate him, just by his presence here. He would trust him, without question. Black had never done anything to dissuade Harry from that. Neither had Remus.

Severus, thought, had failed him. Had not only allowed Voldemort to take him, but he had actually cut Harry off, only moments after Harry had begged him not to hate him. Severus tried to draw in a steadying breath as he buried the anger that was rising to overtake his flames. Black had been invading Harry’s mind for days. Both he and Voldemort. And all Severus had seen was a childish reaction to fame. And then his own insecurities had pushed Harry away. When his son had needed him the most.

He would not make that mistake twice.

Severus halted. He closed his eyes briefly before turning around. He forced himself to speak as civilly as he could under the circumstances. “Black, you claim you have been to the space where Voldemort resides?”

Black’s eyes narrowed a bit. “I’ve been there,” he said with a curt nod.

“The danger?” Severus inquired. Black’s eyes darted once to Remus, who gave him an encouraging nod. Black shrugged a little.

“I’ve only been there when I couldn’t avoid it,” he answered slowly. “It’s hard not to want to become lost to what you feel when it’s near.”

Severus gazed at him, taking his time to decipher Black’s words. “But you could not enter, even though you might have wished to?” he asked after a moment of contemplation.

“I don’t think anyone who enters, wishes to,” Black answered, and though the reply sounded remarkably like the riddle-speak which Albus preferred, Severus did not think Black’s ambiguity was purposeful.

“We will need to remain unaffected by its temptations,” Severus inferred. Remus nodded thoughtfully, but Black was shaking his head.

“It won’t be so simple,” he disagreed. “I already told you that it will be nearly impossible to get into where he is.”

“Perhaps for you,” Severus sneered before he could stop himself. Black’s grey eyes flashed in anger.

“It will be difficult for me as well,” Remus said quickly, stepping forward so that he was standing in the empty space between the old enemies.

Black didn’t stop frowning. “Dumbledore sent you in here to help Remus,” he said in reminder to Severus, having no idea that Dumbledore hadn’t been the puppeteer this time. But the claim irritated Severus nonetheless. “So, either actually be helpful or go back to Dumbledore,” Black finished, his own mouth now curled in his own mocking sneer.

With eyes narrowed to slits, Severus opened his mouth to spit out a retort, but Remus held a hand in front of Severus’ face, using his other hand to rest firmly on Black’s chest. Remus’ eyes were holding his friend’s as he said clearly, “He can’t go without me, Sirius.” Black’s frown changed a little as he took that in. Remus continued on, “And Severus will do whatever he has to do to get Harry back. I give you my word on that, Padfoot.” Remus’ didn’t give Black a chance to voice an opinion on that as his head swung around to glare at Severus.

“Isn’t that true, Severus?” he asked in his hardest tone.

Remus, in that moment, was extremely fortunate that he’d spent the last months securing himself as one of his son’s closest friends. That was the only thing stopping Severus from snarling back at the other man until he was cringing from it. That, and the defeating fact that Harry needed Black. So Severus controlled his temper and nodded smoothly.

“I will not go back without him,” he repeated his earlier vow, meaning it even more than he had as they’d stood before the Veil. It did not matter that Harry would likely not forgive him for abandoning him—something he’d promised his son he would never do. Severus pushed firmly against the chill creeping against his flames.

Surprise had ghosted across Black’s face as he stared, and for a frantic moment, Severus wondered what his face had revealed in that moment. But Remus was not looking at him any differently. He was simply nodding in acceptance. Severus flicked his robe tails out of his way as he spun around.

“We must continue,” he told the other two, hoping that his voice sounded as flat to them as it did in his head.

None of them spoke again as they continued toward the space where the nothingness was leading them. They were moving faster now, even as they remained stagnant. And Severus’ flames were decidedly cooler. But he felt warm. Happiness was somewhere out there, in front of him.

All he had to do was reach for her.

Lily looked just as beautiful as she always had. At her loveliest…her most appealing as she stood in front of the open window. The moonlight was streaming in, washing over her rounded belly. Her small hands rested lightly on the under curve, tautening the almost sheer shirt as the bottom edge fluttered in the slight breeze. She seemed to be glowing.

And Severus was walking toward her. She smiled at him, her lips a perfect pink, her cheeks blossoming with a faint blush as Severus came to stand behind her. He put his strong hands against her shoulders, running them lightly down her arms to bring them to rest on her belly, above her delicate hands.

The two of them holding their son.

And then, he was being thrown violently away from them. And before he could try to grasp onto something to stop it, Severus was sitting on nothing, shaking his head in dazed confusion.

“Tonks,” Remus was whispering, on the same forlorn breath as Black was moaning, “Reg.”

And Severus’ heart began to pound in a painful rhythm as he heard that same maniacal, inhuman laughter, and the screams of familiar agony melting through the blackness.