1979

Looking around the new apartment, Lily twirled around. “Oh, Sev! Isn’t this magnificent?” she laughed merrily.

Leaning in the doorway, the young Death Eater could not help but smile. “Yes, it is,” he never took his eyes off of her.

Realizing this, the Gryffindor girl blushed. “I meant the apartment,” she giggled shyly.

Grinning broader, the Slytherin walked into the room, grabbed his wife by her hips, and pressed her to him gingerly. “Apartments?” he frowned slightly. “I confess I haven’t really noticed it. There was something more magnificent and beautiful distracting my attention.”

Smiling playfully, Lily began twirling her husbands long locks of black hair with her fingers. “Oh? Really?” she looked uninterested. “And what would have completely captured your attention, almight spy?”

Not minding the slight in the least, Severus leaned down, only a breath away from his love’s face. “You,” he whispered silkily. He was pleased to feel the shudder that ran through his wife’s body. “I love you Lily.” He pressed his lips gently to hers.

Tears of joy running from her eyes, Lily wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. When they parted, she looked up at him with genuinely happy eyes. “I love you too, Severus.”

With a loud crack, the two wizard appeared in a small, Muggle town. It was pitch black, and there were many trees around. Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest, his eyes were wide in fear and he could not help but wonder where he was. When he felt a hand on his upper arm, he spun around to see the pale face lit up under the moon, of his father.

Feeling dizzy and nauseous, Harry found himself leaning against the older wizard for support. It was the first time the Gryffindor had actually had any physical contact with the Head of Slytherin that was not painful, and as he leaned against the broad chest, the younger wizard decided that the contact was not so bad. In fact, Harry found that it was actually comforting to feel such human contact.

“This way,” came the deep voice of the Potions Master. Harry wondered how he had missed how soothing that voice actually was.

Guided by Snape, Harry let the older man take him up to this small cottage, one that he had never recalled seeing before in his life. Instead of his wand, however, the professor took out a rather large, iron key to open the door. But with a flick of the ebony wand, the wizard lit the way through the house.

“In here,” the baritone voice spoke gently. “Lay down, Harry. You can sleep now.”

Still too stunned to do much, the boy found himself laying on the bed as he was commanded. He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the illness he felt when he heard the jangling of potions vials. Peeling his eyes open again, he saw Snape’s face lit up by wand light, looking severe. “Drink,” he commanded.

Obediently, Harry did as he was told, and swallowed the potion. It was vile, as usual, but before he could gag, the Potions Master gave him a glass of water to drink. And before the boy could ask any questions, he was sound asleep, his night’s adventure forgotten for a time.

Taking off the famed glasses, Severus set them on the nightstand gently before tucking the child in. Looking over the Gryffindor, his son, the wizard could not find anything to be but upset. He had almost lost his son this evening, the son that he had just discovered. The thought was terrifying, and Severus did not scare easily.

Brushing back a fallen lock of hair and tucking it behind Harry’s ear, the new father sighed softly before he quit the room. Taking up his wand again, he went out the door to strengthen the wards he had placed over it that afternoon.

&&&&&&

When Albus Dumbledore came to Number Four Privet Drive, his first reaction was utter and complete shock. There were many vehicles present, three large fire engines, ambulances, and many police vehicles. Dressed in his Muggle attire, the old man raced as fast as he could over to the scene.

Frantically, the firefighters were working to put out the flames while the police went to keeping the panicked crowd under control. Near by, the paramedics waited anxiously, in case they would be needed. Neighbors all stood in the streets in their night garments, looking on in pitied shock as the Dursley home burned to the ground. Several women were weeping.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Dumbledore was finally stopped by a policeman. “Sir, no one’s allowed beyond this point,” the young man insisted.

“But- but my student! He’s in there!” Albus cried in dismay.

“Reports say that the family was not at home, they went away to the south for-”

“The Dursleys are gone, yes, but their nephew is in there!” the Headmaster cried. “I know, I brought him back today! I was coming to check on him and…”

The policeman looked down sympathetically at the old man before him. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think anyone in the house survived. There was no attempts to be contacted, anyway.”

Standing, watching the house burn, Albus Dumbledore, at that moment, finally and completely admitted to being wrong. He had been so very wrong, and now Harry Potter was dead, all because of him.

You leave Potter there and he’ll die! Severus’s words rang in the old wizard’s ears, and he closed his eyes against the image before him. If only he had listened to the Potions Master!

Tears streamed down the old wizard’s face. He would never be able to forgive himself for this.

&&&&&&

The next morning, Harry rolled over with a groan, and sat up groggily. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times in confusion before saw that he was not in his own room. Before he could panic, however, he remembered the night’s events, and fell back on to the bed with a sob. He recalled everything now.

He had been sleeping, the Death Eaters had come, but Snape had come for him too, they had left, and the Dursleys house had been caught on fire. What would happen to his aunt and uncle? What would happen to Dudley? Where would they go?

Looking over at the nightstand, the young wizard snatched up his glasses and shoved them on his nose. Looking around, he realized that he could not have placed the room he was in at all. He was in a simple bed, in a simple, yet charming room. There was a wooden floor with a dark green rug, a nightstand, a small desk in the corner, and a door for a closet. The walls were white and there was a fairly large window to the left of him.

Getting up out of bed, Harry walked to the window and peered outside. All he could see were trees when he looked out. Frowning, he could not hear anything in the way of traffic or construction, so he figured that wherever he was, he was in the country somewhere. Somewhere where everything was green and lush.

Harry decided then that he had to go find Snape, he had to go find out just what exactly happened and how the man had known to come save him.

Opening the door cautiously, the young wizard walked down the narrow hall and into the parlor. There were a few couches and a fair sized fireplace. Connected to the parlor was the kitchen, where the boy saw the professor cooking. It was an odd sight, but then again, Harry decided that everything the past several days had been quite odd.

Walking tiredly into the kitchen, Harry sat down at the old wooden table, and inspected everything around him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Snape’s normal blunt answer sliced through the morning. But before the younger wizard could offer again, the Potions Master set the table and filled Harry’s plate.

As the professor sat down himself, the Gryffindor looked down at the meal before him. It was a delicious looking variety of eggs and sausage with toast and milk. Smiling up at his father, Harry picked up his fork and knife. “Thanks,” he said excitedly before digging into his food.

Nodding in response, Severus turned to his tea instead, looking through a Muggle newspaper again. Harry watched as the professor never made a move to eat any of the breakfast, but contented himself with tea. Harry had to wonder about that, especially since the meal was delicious. It was probably some the best eggs and sausage he had ever had. Strange that the Potions Master had made it.

“Aren’t you going to eat, sir?” Harry asked.

“I’m fine for now, thank you,” it was still so strange to hear that dreaded voice so calm and civil.

The meal went by in silence, but it was not a strained silence. It was actually quite comfortable as Harry ate and Severus read his paper and drank his tea. The boy had to keep himself from smiling as he thought of what Ron and Hermione would think if they saw him now.

“Um, sir?” Harry asked after he was finished. “Where are we?”

“Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch,” Severus responded without missing a beat.

“Pardon?” the boy sat mouth agape looking at his professor.

Sighing in irritation, Severus put down his paper and stared at his son. “I said that we are in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.”

“Where the heck is Llanfairpwlyw-erwhatsit?” he looked up helplessly at his father.

Looking quite perturbed, the Potions Master shook his head. “Llanfair is in Wales, Harry. Didn’t your primary teachers teach you anything?”

Glaring back, Harry felt a blush rising on his cheeks. He did not want to look stupid in front of his father, but how in the world was he to know where Llanfair was, especially if the whole name was spewed out? “I guess I didn’t remember the full name,” he could not help but say defensively. “But I thought you told Dumbledore that you were going to Scotland, why are we in Wales?”

“Because I did not want the old fool, or anyone else for that matter, to find us,” the master wizard looked back down at the paper before meeting his son’s eyes again. “I don’t want anyone to find us, Harry, so I took you into Wales, where the people keep to themselves and don’t ask any questions of you if you don’t ask any to them.”

“But why Llanfair?” Harry asked.

“It’s touristy and no one would think to hide here for that reason. But it is not so crowded as to make it inconvenient,” Snape leaned back in his chair. “Tours pass by and stop for a minute or two before leaving again. This is a quiet part of the country and if need be, we can make a dash through the woods to get away. We’re just outside the actual town.”

“So, we’re in the country then?” Harry tired to digest all the information. “How many people are here?”

“Not many, really,” Severus began to clear the table. “There are actually more sheep here than anything else. Later on, I’ll take you outside to look around.”

With that promise to look forward to, Harry stood up to help his father wash dishes.

&&&&&&

That morning, at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore called an Order meeting. A few members attended, some looking rather disgruntled at the early morning gathering. None more so than Sirius Black, who happened to be living at the house at the time.

They all sat in the kitchen, waiting for the Headmaster to arrive. Remus Lupin looked as tired as always, his health taking a beating, particularly nowadays. Molly and Arthur Weasley sat waiting anxiously, Arthur looking at his watch every few minutes, hoping that he would not be too late for work. Sirius Black sat with his head in his arms on the table, grumbling about not getting enough sleep. Tonks and Shaklebolt sat yawning, having just gotten off duty from the Ministry only an hour ago.

Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick came through the Floo at almost the same time to join the others. They were greeted warmly enough. Or as warmly as anyone could at six o’clock in the morning. But they were all of them still at a loss as to why they were even there at all.

At last, the Floo burned bright, and Albus Dumbledore came through, looking worse than Lupin after a full moon. The old man looked totally ancient as he came into the room. There were tears in the old man’s eyes as he sat down, and everyone around the table held their breaths, knowing that whatever the Headmaster had to tell them, it was very bad news indeed.

“There are two things of which I must inform you,” Dumbledore’s voice was tired and grieved. “The first being, that Severus has been discovered as a spy, and can no longer provide us with the enemies doings. He has gone off to Scotland, into hiding, before the new school term arrives.”

There were several gasps, and concerned glances exchanged. Only Sirius muttered about how the “snake could have worked better at not getting caught,” but was soon elbowed by Lupin. It settled down again, as everyone realized that that was not the terrible news that the Headmaster was particularly worried about at the moment.

“The second thing I have to inform you of it very terrible news indeed.” Tears fell from the blue eyes, their twinkle completely gone. “Last night, Death Eaters attacked and burned down the Dursleys home. Harry Potter was killed.”

The room sat in absolute, horrified silence.