They say that one event creates ripples that stretch outward and have unseen far reaching consequences. Our story begins with a job interview, a prophecy, and a young boy who would bare the weight of the whole wizarding world. For Young Severus Snape who sat in the Hog’s Head sipping on two fingers of Fire Whiskey, it was prophecy that began to create waves. Severus Snape was a Death Eater, a follower of the Darkest of Dark Lords, Voldemort. He was Voldemort’s valued Potion Master and a member of his inner circle. So it was no surprise that as Sybil Trewlaney spilled forth the prophecy Snape set out to tell the his master what he had heard.

If Snape had been a more patient man, he would have waited a breath longer before placing his sickles on the bar and hastily exiting, but he was not. He took the precious words of his master’s defeat and hand delivered them. It wasn’t until Voldemort began to hunt for this prophesied child that he knew he had made a mistake. The prophecy places his beloved childhood friend Lily Evans, now Lily Potter directly in the path of the Dark Lord.

Snape felt, perhaps for the first time since he’d turned his allegiance to the dark, that he had made a mistake. There were few people that young Severus could honestly say he loved, few people that he trusted Lily Evans was and had always been number one among these sparse few. For days he tried to persuade the Dark Lord, beseeching him to leave the Potter’s alone, trying to offer other children who it could be… but Voldemort would not be swayed. He knew of two families that could have born the child, but Voldemort felt sure it was Lily’s child, Harry. That didn’t mean he didn’t decide that he would leave the other child alone, chancing that he might be wrong. He dispatched the LeStrange Brothers, Bellatrix, and Barty Crouch Jr. to find the Longbottom family. He would be a different man when he saw them again.

Snape was a smart man; he graduated at the top of his class. He had received his mastery in Potions in half the time of most who attempted it, so when it came time for him to find another way to save Lily he knew he had only one choice, Albus Dumbledore.  Dumbledore was a kind of distant grandfatherly type to Snape during his years at Hogwarts, seemly unaware of the abuse perpetrated by his father while at home and by the Marauders while at school. It seemed at times that a wall stood between them, but Snape was willing to do whatever it took.

If Snape had known that selling his soul to Albus Dumbledore would have done nothing to save Lily and would leave him bound to both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore perhaps he would have negotiated better. Instead, he swore on his life and magic to serve Dumbledore as a spy, if he would do everything he could to keep Lily safe.

For a short time, the span of months really though to Snape it had seemed like blissful years, Lily and her Husband and baby were safe. To Severus it seemed that the God, who had ignored him all of those previous years of his life, was protecting his Lovely Lily and her family and he allowed himself to relax.

Until that night, that Halloween night in 1981… the night the Voldemort found the Potters. He tried to get there, reviewing in his mind all of the spells that he might be able to use to stop Voldemort. Anything to give Lily and her son the time to escape… but by the time he reached their small home in Godric’s Hallow, Lily was dead. Her still form in that empty nursery sent pain so deeply into his soul, he was sure he would never fully recover.

He searched for the baby, Harry. A child not even a year old, but the last remnant of Lily that he had. The child was not there… and Snape was sure that everything was lost.

 ***

Severus, so caught in his own grief and turmoil, wouldn’t fully understand, that like the prophecy so long ago, his own actions were changing the lives of others until many years later.

*** 

Bellatrix LeStrange was born a Black. She was the eldest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black, older sister to Andromeda and Narcissa. As a child she was the apple of her mother’s eyes, a good little future dark witch, like all those who had been born to the Black family for the last two centuries. She received her Hogwarts letter the day of his eleventh birthday and went with her family to by her first official wand (not that she hadn’t been give an unregistered one when she was old enough to hold it). As she stood in Ollivander’s Wand Shop a curious thing happened. Ollivander could find no wand that fit her. All the bendy and willowy wands usually given to children setting out to Hogwarts refused to work for her. Until he handed her a very special wand, well ordinarily special, it was a 12 ¾ inch Walnut wand with a Dragon Heartstring Core, but what made it special to Bella was the feel of it. It was unshakeable, un-moveable, unyielding. It called to a place in her that she rarely embraced. The stubborn side of her, that believed so deeply she could not be convinced otherwise.

Perhaps it was this side of her that made Bellatrix a target for the Dark Lord. A follower who believed so deeply that they would never be swayed, a child of considerable magic, good family, and strong belief… a child like that could further his cause greatly. So young Bella, naïve Bella, believing that Voldemort would save to Magical world form the obvious fracturing and dissolution had taken up his banner and marched into battle beside him.

It was from among his numbers that she selected her husband, Rodolphus LeStrange. He was a harsh man, quiet and above emotion. Bellatrix believed that perhaps in time she could come to love him, that perhaps they could raise a family together. Bella hid it well but the deepest desire of her heart was to hold her children in her arms, and for a time she felt that she could have that with Rodolphus.

At first he’d sneered at Severus Snape’s attempts to save the Potters. If the youngest Potter was the child of prophecy then the Dark Lord had a chance to change the war in their favor. They didn’t need to kill the child, instead they could raise him to be one of them. A child with the magic to defeat the Dark Lord would be an excellent addition to their ranks… but Bellatrix soon learned otherwise. 

There are times when circumstances force themselves into the cracks of our minds, even into a mind so unbending as Bellatrix’s. It was in a moment like that as circumstances began to alter her view… that she was forced to look at Snape differently. She’d never truly trusted him, but she felt a kinship with him. Her own empty home and longing to be a mother made her want to cry mercy for the child… but she couldn’t. So in her place, she silently appointed Severus to save the Potters, to save their infant son.

When one’s view of the world is forced to change, when one is force to re-evaluate their beliefs it is a slow process often taking years and it is a damaging process that can fragment the picture which dominates the landscape of their mind… driving them to desperate measures.

It was in the midst of these changes that a confused Bellatrix was sent out to find the Longbottom family. It was hard; none other than Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindewald and renowned light wizard, had cast their Fidellus Charm… but find them they did. Just as the news of the Dark Lord’s death at the hands of Harry Potter reached their ears.

For Bella it was a bittersweet loss. She believed that the Dark Lord was their one true and last hope… but he had lost himself in power… he had targeted an innocent child for the sake of that power. She sank deeper into confusion as her husband sank deeper in to rage. Her brother-in-law Rabastan was a cruel man, violent to the core of his black soul, and it was him who convinced the others that the Longbottoms must know something about where the Dark Lord was. After all, he told them, no child could ever destroy their Lord.

Bella didn’t enter the house with the others… she had paused for a moment outside the door when something caught her eye. It was a child’s blanket, a small faded hand made blue blanket with small giraffe’s littering its surface. It was obviously well loved, the color was fading and the fabric itself was threadbare from repeated washing. A child’s blanket… the though finally pierced the haze of her mind as screams reached her ears form inside the house. A child lived here… the Longbottom’s had a child… a child that would be killed if the others found it.

For the first moments Bella’s mind was a flurry of panicked thoughts, but she was sure that she needed to do something, and she needed to do it now. She disillusioned herself as she entered the front door. It hung at a sad disheveled angle it’s jaunty red paint scorched and crack from the others’ forceful entrance. She moved threw the living room, her eyes locked on the scene that was playing itself out on the thick carpet in the center of the room. Rabastan’s held the Alice under the Cruciatis Curse while Barty and Rodolphus held Frank. He was forced to watch as his wife screamed and cried for help… but could do nothing. Bella felt a wetness on her cheek; confused she reached up and felt tears.

She knew she had little time before they would notice she was missing, so she moved softly up the stairs. It wasn’t hard to find the nursery. A child’s screams though loud in the small landing of the upstairs, where drown out by those from the living room. Her finger’s grazed across the door, across the name painted on its bright blue surface… Neville.

Bella felt her breathing speed up as she entered the room and catch as she closed the door behind her. There in a small crib lay the crying infant. His face scrunched up in terror… the screams of his mother echoed in the room, filling the once cheery space with their haunting pitch. Bella had never actually handled a child before…never comforted once or held one in her arms… but as she reached for Neville Longbottom there was no hesitation.

She crooned his name as she lifted his small body into the relative safety of her arms. Cushioned his small fragile frame against her shoulder. Her voice was soft and husky as she sang him a children’s song swaying gently until his tears subsided.  She pulled him away from her shoulder for just a moment and found herself caught in his eyes. There was innocence in them, a trust that she had never seen in herself.

It was this moment, this exact moment, that years later Bella would mark down as the moment that changed her life. Until this moment she had wanted and taken… never giving back to anyone, but right then looking into the cherubic face of Neville Longbottom she felt a life grown inside of her… a kind of white heat that burned away that selfishness.

She was so caught in the moment that she almost missed the sound of heavy boots ascending the stairs, the sound was almost covered by the noise of both a man and woman’s screams… Bella knew that someone was coming to find Neville, but she knew with more certainty than she had even known anything in her life that she would protect this child until all the breath had left her body.

She drew Neville back to her, his small frame resting perfectly against the slight curves of her own. The connection between the two of them flared. The footsteps got closer and Bella apparated. The door opened just moments after she vanished with the child in her arm, she could feel the familiar pressure of apparating. The pressure on her eyes and ears, the dizzy twisting and turning. She held Neville closer, hunching her body around him as best she could until they seemed to be connected.

Barely a second later it stopped. Neville’s shrill cried reached her ears, as she soothed him. Swaying gently as she had before and humming the tune to some song she remembered Andromeda playing on the piano, she looked around her. They stood in the center of a large field. The waste high grass whipping about in the face of the fierce black clouds that where rolling in from the north. She glanced around and her eyes landed on a large welcoming stone home that lay just a short distance away. Bella knew it on site. Longbottom Manner.

She knew that it was dangerous to Apparate with no destination in mind, but her mind had been filled with thoughts of keeping Neville safe… this was the best place for him, it seemed that she knew that even subconsciously. Augusta Longbottom was a pillar of the magical community, her refusal to back down or hide from the Dark Lord made her legend… and Bella knew that she would raise Neville in the safety of her home with stories of his parents so he would know them.

Bellatrix knew the men that she had left at the Longbottom house; if the Longbottom’s were still alive they wouldn’t be for long. Her husband and Brother-in-Law had a madness in them that frightened her. She moved forward, clutching Neville. She came to the wards, afraid for a moment that they wouldn’t let her pass, but they washed over her and the child like water. Night had fallen on the field, but the lights of Longbottom Manner called to Bella.

If Bellatrix imagined herself entering Longbottom Manner under the cover of night before this moment, it was with a malicious intent in her heart… but now there was no room for a thought but those of Neville’s safety. They’d watched the Manner for days as they tried to find where Frank and Alice had hidden, so she moved through the house with familiarity, nearing the master suite.

The room was dark when she entered, a comforting wrap of velvet that soothed her frayed nerves. She relaxed into a small straight-backed chair shifting Neville into the crooked of her arms. A quiet lumos lit the room, casting everything in relief. Augusta Longbottom didn’t move, but Neville laughed and giggled reaching his chubby hands for the light. Bella moved it close and then away, making Neville scream in joy.  It was to this sight that Augusta woke. There in a chair beside her bed was Voldemort’s most ardent follower, her wand pointed at her Grandson, a smile stretching her pale lips. Augusta had seen the rise and fall of Grindelwald, she had seen Voldemort’s rise to power… she knew the cost of war. That those who truly suffered where children… she knew deep in her heart of hearts in the very pit of her soul that her son, her Frank was not coming back to her. That her daughter-in-law, sweet Alice who she considered one of her own was gone.

There are moments in life when negotiation must be abandoned in favor of honest and heartfelt pleas. Augusta knew that she would give anything to save her grandson, that she would give her own life if it meant his safety.

“Please.” Her voice broke… “Please.” Bellatrix looked at her with dark assessing eyes. Neville grew quiet.

“He’s my Grandson. Please don’t take him from me too. I will give everything to keep him safe. Just ask and it is yours.” Augusta shook. Despite the warmth of the room she shivered in cold and fear.

“Please…” it seemed the only thing she could say. Bella paused for a moment longer.

“Your son and his wife are dead… or will be soon.” Bella was not a compassionate woman it had been punished out of her as a child, but this night had awakened that strange feeling inside of her once more. The look on Augusta’s face made her heart ache.

“…And Neville?” the question hung in the air, a specter haunting them.

“He is safe, unharmed… and yours.” Bella couldn’t bring herself to remove Neville from her arms. He’d snuggled closer to her warmth as sleep overtook him, Bella couldn’t make herself give him up, afraid that the feeling would disappear without him, that she would return to the empty shell of herself she had been before this night, but this time she would known that she was hollow… a worse fate she could scarcely imagine. Augusta rose cautiously. Something was wrong here, she saw in Bellatrix LeStrange not the darkness of a Death Eater but a broken and confused young woman.

 “You…you…saved him?” Her voice was soft. Breaking into the night around them. It seemed to echo in the unlit corners of the room.

“I couldn’t let them hurt him.” Bella locked eyes with Augusta for a moment before you looked back at Neville.

“I’m so sorry, little one. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save your mum and dad. I’d give anything to take it all back. To take very word, every spell, every curse if it meant that I could spare you this pain.” Bella stroked a hand across his downy tuft of dark hair. Augusta looked on. She waited until Bella caught her eyes, she had so many things she wanted to say but Bella opened her mouth to speak first.

“I have no right to ask anything of you. I know that… but please, please keep him safe. He’s all that matters now. Tell him stories about his parents. Tell him that they were strong. That they loved each other and were with each other until the very end. Make him laugh, let him…” Bella felt tears well up in her eyes,  “ Let him run through the grass and play in the sun, unafraid.  Don’t tell him about me… tell him… tell him that he was loved… is loved.” Sobs racked her body, tears sliding down her pale cheeks, landing on Neville’s upturned face, like the rain the beat against the glass of the windows, her tears cleansing the night from his soul. Her arms were leaden and weak, trembling as she handed him to his Grandmother.

Bella felt lost, but the joy that this child had brought into her life stayed with her despite the separation. She stood and gazed at the two for a moment, leaning in and kissing Neville gently on the forehead. She turned toward the door ready to leave but Augusta’s voice stopped her.

“Why can’t he know that you saved him?” her voice was thick, as though she to fought tears.

“Because…” Bella wiped her cheeks and steeled herself, “he deserves better.” Her shoulders were tight with pain.

“What are you to do now?” Augusta didn’t move her arms from Neville though her own cheeks were damp.

“I have to say good-bye then I will be turning myself into the Ministry. I deserve no mercy… no pardons… no chance to run.” She moved through the barely illuminated doorway and down the hall before Augusta could stop her again, she was out in the raging storm before she stopped. The rain was fierce as it slammed into her skin, but she felt that the Earth was washing her clean. In that moment she knew that no matter what happened, she had done the right thing… that she had saved one life and for that she knew that even a hundred lifetimes in Azkaban would be worth it.

Bella let the rain soak her for a moment longer before she apparated away. The first stop was a small plain looking home on the edge of the town of Painswick. The laughter from the home called to her. Her sister, her sister and her family lay within this home. She needed to know before she let them take her, that her sister was happy and if there was still room in Madea’s heart for her. Her hands shook as she knocked on the door. The rain was light here, but Bella let it fall on her with a smile as she waited for the door to open. Ted Tonks opened the door and looked at her in horror.

The last time he’d seen her she had screamed and thrown hexes at him… but she spoke before he could draw his wand or yell.

“Please Ted… I just need a minuet. If you want me out after that you can call the Aurors and they can have me.” Ted seemed to consider her for a moment, but in the end he opened the door wide and let her in, he was  after all a Hufflepuff. Bella laughed to herself at the thought, it felt good like water on parched earth… or sun after a harsh winter.

“Who was it, hun?” Andromeda’s voice was just as she remembered it. Those cool tones that brought laughter into their utilitarian childhood.

“You would never believe me if I told you.” Ted’s voice was strained and wary, Bella was used to that reaction by now. She had imagined this moment so often in her head, but it had never gone like this. Before this night she had imagined a duel… Andromeda coming back to the family after disposing of her husband… but now she could see the glow of love that surrounded them and it warmed her. She wrapped it around her, building up her shields s when they brought her to the Dementors she would have good to cling to, the image of a laughing child flashed into her mind. Neville, she would never let the dementors have that memory.

“Alright. I’ll come see.” Andromeda’s voice grew closer. When she came around the corner, Bella felt a smile light up her face. Her sister carried a small child on her hip. Her hair wildly changing from color to color as she laughed. This must be her niece Nymphadora.

 Bella, had she been the same person she was only hours ago would have laughed at the shocked expression on Andromeda’s face and the fear that crept into her eyes, but this was a new Bella… a changed Bella. She moved swiftly toward her sister and wrapped her arms around both of them.  Her laughing niece and her sister, she pressed her face into Andromeda’s neck.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Medea, I’m so sorry.” She repeated it over and over again like a prayer. She felt Andromeda shift letting Nymphadora slid to the floor before she wrapped her arms around Bella’s shaking shoulders.

“Oh, Bella…” The hug went on and on… soothing and comforting both of them.

“Why don’t we have some tea?  We can all sit together and talk.” The voice came from the living room, where Ted had set up a simple tea set. Bellatrix pulled away from a moment before she reached out and place a hand on his.

“I’m sorry, Ted. You deserve better than the way I treated you.” Her voice was rusty from all the tears and emotions of the evening. She turned to Nymphandora would was half hidden behind her father’s legs.

“Hello, Lovey.  Let your Auntie Bella look at you.” She threw her arms wide and as the child ventured forth she closed them around her and drew the girl up to her hip, the same way she had seen Andromeda holding her not but moments ago.

“You are beautiful. You are just like your mum when she was little. Did you know that?” Bella didn’t feel the same bright joy she felt when she looked this child as she had with Neville, but instead a kind of peaceful hope.

“That’s what mummy always says. That I looks just like her.” Nymphadora’s smile was bright as she lisped around loose teeth. Ted reached out and plucked the girl from her arms.

“It’s time for bed, Nymphie. Give you mummy a kiss.” It was quick work saying good night to her mother before Ted hustled her from the room. Andromeda watched her through half lidded eyes for a moment before she spoke.

“What’s going on Bella? This isn’t like you…” Bella knew what Andromeda meant, but her heart was overfull with joy and sorrow and she let the events of the night spill from her mouth. She told Andromeda about the Longbottoms, about Voldemort’s death, about the blanket on the front porch, about Neville and his Grandmother… about feeling alive for the first time in years… she laid her soul and her sins before her sister and waited. She knew that she was asking a lot of Andromeda but her time was growing short and she still had one stop left to make before the night was over.

“I know that you don’t want to hear I’m sorry again, but I am… and I know that I’ve come back into your life for a brief moment barely long enough to shake things up, but I need to know that you’re happy. I need to know if there is the barest hint of a change that you could still love me.” Bella tried to keep herself from crying again. It seemed that the night had broken the mask she had worn for so long and in its absence she felt everything more strongly than she ever had before. Andromeda reached a hand out a lay it across hers.

“Of Course, Bella. You are my sister… I have always loved you. I’m happy. I’m happier than I have ever been before.” Andromeda’s face lit up with a smile and Bella knew it was true. She slid her hand from under Andromeda’s and placed it on her cheek. Bella’s calloused fingers slid across Andromeda’s high pale cheekbones.

“Know this, sister. I carry you with me. I carry your love with me.” Bella stood and moved toward the door, the clock in the hall ringing out the hour. Ten chimes followed her as she reached for the door handle. A small touch on her shoulder stopped her.

“Carry it were? Where are you going?” Andromeda’s voice was soft barely audible over the crackle of the fire and the echoing ring of the clock.

“All the way to the Dementors. All the way to Azkaban.” They embraced once more. Arms clutching one another as tight as they could, as if afraid that if they let go for one moment… if their arms loosened the other would disappear. Finally Bella pulled away. She smiled at Andromeda as she opened the door.

“You always were the best of us.” Her words lingered in the entry as she disappeared into the dark, the soft crack of apparition lost in the night.

Spinner’s End was just as she remembered it. Though it was only once and it was some time ago… it had always lingered on in her mind. It was still hours before dawn… but it felt as though years had passed in the span of minuets. It felt as though this night was never ending.

Bella knocked softly on the door. She felt the weariness of the night almost overcome her… but she knew she could sleep soon. That Azkaban had a cell with her name on it. She knocked again, this time louder and heard someone moving about inside.

Severus Snape opened the door and Bella was hit with the knowledge that he had failed.  Harry Potter might still be alive but his beloved Lily was dead. She felt for him, felt for him in the depths of her newly rediscovered heart.  It was compassion again, how strange that until this night she had pushed this feeling aside… afraid to let it take root in the murky wasteland of her soul…

“Offer me tea.” Bella spoke into the awkward silence that lay between them. Snape sneered by shifted to one side and allowed her to enter.

“Of course, let me get right on that.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.  Once they were both inside, Bella turned to him and drew her wand. Holding it out to him handle first. It was an old tradition… the wand was pointed at her heart, if he felt her untrustworthy he could kill her now, but if he touched the wand and released it he acknowledged her as a guest in his home. Snape’s hand was slow to rise but when it landed on the handle she grasped it and held it in place.

“I, Bellatrix Druella LeStrange nee Black do swear on my life and magic that I will serve Severus Tobias Prince Snape as a spy until which time that he has found absolution and the Dark Lord is dead. No cost shall detour me, no pain turn me away. Even unto death I will do what must.” A bright flash of light filled the room. When it subsided Snape was looking at her in something akin to horror.

“What have you done you foolish girl?” Snape’s voice was harsh, his breathing ragged. Bella shook her head and dropped her wand, clasping his face between her hands.

“I know that you failed to save her. I can see it in your eyes. I know that you no longer serve him... and I know that you will need help to bring him down. I don’t know what I can do, but I will do what I must to ensure that he won’t have the chance to destroy any more families. In return I ask only one thing… look after them. Both Young Harry and Neville Longbottom. Their lives have been ripped apart by our foolish mistakes, they deserve all the help they can get.” Bella ran her hands through his thick hair, her fingers tangling in his raven locks.

“Why are you doing this?” Severus raised one of his hands, placing it carefully in the crook of her elbow. It was comforting, a reassuring touch.

“I found myself tonight. I found myself in a child’s nursery, gazing down at a child who deserved better than what was to come… I found myself so desperately in love with that child that I turned away from everything I held important… everything I believed in. I’m going to turn myself in. When you hear about what happened tonight… I want you to know that I never meant it to be this way.” Snape nodded and released her. They stepped away from each other. He showed her to the door, his gaze lingering on her as she walked away. It wasn’t until he returned to his living room and saw her wand lying on the floor that the tears came. Bellatrix wouldn’t walk down a street or enjoy the rain for another thirteen years. She would cling to the memory of Neville’s smiling face and Andromeda’s love until they were nothing more than faded blurry images… but they saved her from the darkness that threatened to consume all those who dwelled in Azkaban.

***

These two poor souls where not the only ones forced to confront their mistakes… as is often the case, some will carry their burden without displaying their pain for all to see and some… some bare their burden deep within them. Hiding their troubles so well that even they are unaware of them. Those who find redemption like our dear Bella can understand the agony of hiding those things away, but those like Lucius Malfoy who push them away… time is not kind to there type. There is a moment for facing each conflict and each thorn… but to press them away leaving them for the universe creates festering wounds that can steal away the precious moments of one’s life.

***

Abraxas Malfoy had been a heavy-handed disciplinarian… to his son, his wife, and his House Elves. He didn’t believe in weakness, he didn’t allow crying, and he detested failure. He was known among his peers as a harsh but loving father. At home he was closer to a great hulking bully. He ruled his family with an iron fist and saw nothing redeemable in his son.

Persephone Malfoy was absent at best. Her hazy blue eyes often seeing distant times and places, but never her son. She moved through Malfoy Manner like a ghost, her feet bare, and hair un-brushed… her mind wondering. She never left the mansion, never met with her peers or hosted dinner parties. As a child Lucius had assumed that his mother loved him though she never spoke to him or even looked at him. It wasn’t until he was much older that he understood. He was the constant reminder that she had been married away to a man she hated… the reason why she locked herself away in her mind.

There are some people who are cruel to those around them because they are evil, because their hearts are a vacuous space where no light or happiness could ever hope to thrive. There are those who are cruel because they believe that the situation, the moment, calls for it… and there are those poor souls who are cruel because they have never learned better.

Lucius was the latter. By the time he was allowed to have friends the only example he’d ever seen was that of his father. His father hitting the House Elves, striking him, pulling his un-responding mother into her bedroom and leaving hours later as her sobs echoed down the hall.  He could have changed… he could have grown into a better person but he was never given the right incentive… the right motivation to be different.

Narcissa Black was the first person to ever pierce the veil around him. She was the first to see him as something other than a Malfoy. It was no wonder that he loved her desperately, she represented all the good things in the world that he was terrified to strive for. She pushed him to be better, to be more… to achieve more than his father, to show the hateful bastard that he was worth his name.

Narcissa was followed by Severus Snape, a first-year who’d been in his house. Lucius a glorious fifth year and a prefect no less had taken the young man under his wing. It was a friendship, like his own with Narcissa, would come to define him.  Through the years that they went to school together the three of them became inseparable. Severus became the brother he’ d never had and Narcissa became the love of his life. He felt for a time that nothing could touch them... nothing could pull them apart. For a time the halls of Hogwarts sheltered them, but such things come to an end, always before we are ready for them to be over.

When Lucius had finished school and moved out into the world, working toward his mastery in potions he met the Dark Lord. His father pushed and pushed and for the first time in his life, Abraxas was proud of his son… proud that his heir was to serve the greatest Dark Lord in history. Lucius would think back years later, after the end of the first war… and he would let his mind travel down an unmarked trail in his mind… the future that could have been. Where Narcissa, Severus, and himself ran away, where they lived on a beach somewhere and worried about nothing but getting sand in the house and picking potion ingredients under the full moon.

Lucius always stopped himself before he got so far down that path that he turned into his mother, he knew better than most the danger of letting what could have been cloud his vision of what was. This was the path he’d chosen, the path laid before him and he would follow through until he had found his way or it had run its course.

When Narcissa graduated just two years later he asked her to marry him. It was the easiest thing he’d ever done. He’d never imagined that his decisions would so adversely affect those around him. He never imagined that Narcissa would have to follow the Dark Lord as well, and that Severus, his brother in all but blood would join as well. Someone where in the dark place of his heart, where he hid his secret ambitions and his hate for his father, there in that place he felt an unfathomable pain. His own Brother, who he had sought to protect all these years… the images of Severus writhing in pain under the Cruciatus would haunt his nightmares for years to come, but those images were not alone.

When the prophecy reached the Dark Lord’s ears, he demanded that all of his followers report the moment any of them or their spouses become pregnant. Lucius understood, that a betrayal from within… that was the one thing Voldemort was ill prepared for.

            He came home that night to tell his wife about the prophecy and the Dark Lord’s orders… but the tears on her face as he spoke stopped him. A small piece of parchment slipped from her fingers as she ran from the room. He bent down and lifted it with careful fingers. His eyes grew misty as they read the words scratched onto it.

            ‘Lady Malfoy,

We were pleased to learn that your recent visit to our facilities was a pleasant one. We would like to recommend continuing care here as all of our prenatal and delivery Medi-witches and Healers are well trained yearly in the most up-to-date methods. Should you choose to continue receiving care through our facility please reply with an owl at your convenience and we will be happy to provide you with a private Healer and set-up a time in July for your delivery.

            Blessings on you and yours,

                        Calligary Hunterson

            Director of St. Mungos Pre-Natal and Delivery ward.

Lucius was sure that without his excellent self-control he would have thrown up right then and there. He’d wanted a child for so long, an heir, a child he could raise to be self confident and proud… a child were in he could correct all the wrongs of his own up brining… but a child born in July… oh Merlin… the Dark Lord would kill it. Strike it down before it even drew it’s first breath, and his wife… his lovely wife… his precious Narcissa she would die as well, if not by the Dark Lord’s hands then she would surely pass of heartbreak.

He knew unerringly that his wife would be sitting in the far back corner of their gardens, on the small stone bench that faced the mansion, where all the midnight roses bloomed and filled the air with their pungent restful fragrance. It was where she went to think. Lucius found her there with her head in her hands and sobs wracking her body. Crystalline tears rolled down her arms, glistening in the pale glow of the moon.

            “We won’t tell him.” Lucius knelt before her as he spoke, his hands drifted around her, pulling her to him in an uncomfortable hug. His face was pressed against her midsection… pressed against his unborn child.

            “I won’t let him have you, little one. I’ll swear I will protect you with everything I have… everything I am.” A soft golden light surrounded them, but neither Narcissa nor Lucius noticed. She placed her hands on his face drawing his chin upward until they made eye contact.

            “I love you, Lucius. We will raise our child better than either of us were raised. We’ll love him. We’ll teach him compassion and hope. We’ll let him chose what he wants to be… how he wants to live and support him no matter what.” She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

            “A son… my heir… our son.” Lucius leaned upward and placed a soft kiss of her damp cheek. There were times for stoic pure blood masks and this was not one of them. They sat together, their arms wrapped around each other, hands intertwined with one another’s and resting over the place where their son slowly grew. Neither spoke a word…

            There in the velvet intimacy of the night, with the shadow of the mansion and the light of the moon following over them… the Malfoy’s defied the Dark Lord of the first time.

            It would of course take them many months… and two more defiant moments to realize what they had done. No one truly thinks about the consequences of their actions as the darkness threatens to overwhelm them and their loved ones… and Lucius truly did love his wife and loved his unborn son more and more each day. He looked at them and his heart felt ready to burst from his chest with joy. They were the only things that he had ever truly done right in his life.

            So… that June night when Narcissa went into labor he felt a great relief roll over him and mix with the ever-growing love that lived inside of him. His beautiful son, so small and pale, born a month early, just in time to save his own life from the wrath of the Dark Lord, Lucius wrapped his arms around both mother and child and for the first time since his own childhood, he cried.

Each life is a single thread in a tapestry. A single ripple in a still pond. For the few moments that we breathe, for the few moments that we frolic in the sun or cry in the rain the whole picture is withheld from us.

James and Lilly Potter never knew that their son, their precious child would save the wizarding world some day. They never knew that their deaths would end two wars. They simply loved their son and did what any true parent would do. They laid down their lives for the chance that he might live and live well.

Sybill Trelawney never knew as she sipped butter beer and half drunkenly muttered out a prophecy that she would doom that same small child to a life of pain and a life so bleak it seemed at times barely worth rising in the morning. She never knew that her words would bring a proud man to his knees, destroy a Dark Lord, save the soul of one lost woman, or change the heart of a man who had long denied it’s existence.

Severus Snape never imagined that those same few words would bring his world crashing down. He wouldn’t see until years later that Lily’s death… that her husbands death had saved his own life. They may have raised their wands and laid down their lives for Harry, but their sacrifice had saved him as well.

Bella would dream for years about finding Young Neville again, about holding him in her arms and crooning softly to him as they walked together through the endless fields of swaying grass around Longbottom Manor. It was those thoughts that kept her sane… and it would be those thoughts that dictated her life.

Lucius and Narcissa refused to set their son down for days after that Halloween night. So afraid of what could have been. Their brush with death had changed their lives, shattering their carefully constructed world and leaving nothing but loveable broken pieces.

Ripples, Dear reader… ripples of never ending strength that crashed on to these poor souls with the power of fate. All of these ripple flowing outward from one small child… who was laid on the doorstep of a small house in Little Whinging. Whose soft cries of pain and confusion went unnoticed until the morning… when he was brought in with the morning paper. This, Gentle friends is his story. 

From the first moment that he could remember Harry knew that he was different. He knew that he wasn’t like the other boys, the other kids, or even other people. He would watch as families on Privet drive would hug one another, how parents would kiss their children on the cheek before sending them off to school in the morning. He couldn’t imagine what that felt like. He’d asked Aunt Petunia for a kiss one day before school, she’d sneered and left him standing in front of the dismal grey school alone and red faced. Harry cleaned the house and cooked food, all the while aware that the families in Dudley’s programs never made the kids do all of those things.

Harry planted flowers and weeded. He mowed the law and watered. Every day he withdrew a little more into himself. At night as he lay awake on the thin worn camping cot that was his bed he wondered what had made him so different… so un-loveable.  Soon the underside of the stairs would fade and the land of dreams would overtake his overworked body.

In his dreams he was free. He was a bird riding currents of air over green countryside. All the people below him bustling about, kissing their children as they headed to school or cooking dinner together… all of them unaware that he glided overhead. Some nights he dreamed of his parents. He didn’t remember them or even know what they looked like, but he imagined them.

Sometimes they were skinny and tall like Aunt Petunia or heavy and short like Uncle Vernon… those dreams were always sent away with a shake of his head. No, the dreams that Harry valued most were the ones where he could see nothing at all. Where his father’s laughter echoed through the darkness of his mind and his mother repeated over and over again how she loved him.

It wasn’t hard to love them. They were his ever-present guardian angels. Usually those dreams came at the end of a particularly hard day, when his body ached so badly from the work and the casual slaps that he couldn’t help but cry. His parent’s voices always soothed him and in the morning when Aunt Petunia would slam her hands onto the cupboard door and scream for him to start breakfast he always felt a little better.

For many years Harry didn’t even know his parents names… or his own for that matter. Until he started school, he had truly though his name might be ‘Boy’ or ‘Freak.’ He finally worked up the nerve to ask Aunt Petunia about his mum and dad, he gotten enough out of her to know that his mum’s name was Lily and that they had died in a car crash. That was, Aunt Petunia said, where he got his scar.

Harry’s young mind really didn’t understand that faithful night, but he understood that his parents had been taken from him and it made a small piece in him come alive. Before that very moment, he had believed that perhaps his mother and father had never loved him that they thought he was a freak as well and had given him away. Now he knew, they had died… they had been taken from him… and that was enough for him… for now.

Harry was a smart child. Once he realized that he would never have any friends, because of his cousin Dudley, he spent his days reading everything that he could get his hands on. He read every fantasy and fiction book the school library had… he loved those books.

There in black and white was an escape. He could be a ships captain, an explorer in a distance time and place, a king, a solider, a traveler on an epic quest. He dreamed himself into Mordor with Sam and Frodo, aboard a mighty ship as they hunted the Great Whale… he dreamed himself to places he was sure he’d never see.

Harry’s voracious appetite for books for not sated. He read every book in the school library before long and every book that the librarian would let him check out from the real library. He read math books, scientific journals, essays about chemistry, and medical logs. When he read the world was stretched out before him. He could be anything, do anything. He knew all the answers in class, even if he had to hide that fact… he knew them.

Dudley’s old school books where carefully pilfered from the trash and stashed away in a corner of his cupboard for review. It was Harry’s only true escape.

            When Harry turned eleven things changed. He woke to the sound of Petunia at the cupboard door, as was his usual wake up in the mornings. He prepared breakfast for his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin… nothing to make the day stand out. Until he went to get the mail. There in his hands… there was the first letter that he had ever received. He mind was a wash with color and sound, so stunned was he that he bypassed the safe haven of his cupboard and walked into the dinning room. His Uncle, who more often than not pretended that he didn’t exist, failed to notice him… failed to see the thick envelope clutched in his shaking hands, his cousin did not. Dudley lived for moments like these, moments where he could make Harry’s life a little harder.

‘Oh yes’ Harry though to himself as the letter was ripped away ‘that could have been handled better.’

Harry knew there was little time to get the letter back before his Uncle took it; his voice was falsely strong, as he demanded it be returned to him. Harry was so used to the conversational put downs that it almost didn’t hurt any more… it almost didn’t hurt when Vernon pointed out that no one would write to him.

The next few days where the oddest that Harry could remember and he had seen some odd things. Like the time he ended up on the roof of the school while hiding from his cousin, or turned his teachers hair blue… or his all time favorite… when he’d talked to that snake at the zoo, but this was something else. Letters began to enter the house in every fashion imaginable and then some that were beyond comprehension like inside their eggs.

The house was swarmed by letters and birds, owls of every shape and size perched on every surface available.  Harry thought they were amazing. He broke off little bits of his breakfast (a piece of dry toast) and fed it to the birds. He loved running his fingers across their malted plumage.  In his mind the birds and him were confidants… secret allies against Vernon the Oppressor, which he shortened to simply… The Oppressor.

As the stress in the house mounted Vernon grew more and more violent and angry. Thinking to himself… ‘Yes of course, your oppressorness.’ As he went about his chores made him laugh and smile despite his split lip and black eye.  

Finally the day came when it was all to much for the Oppressor… it was a Sunday and Harry was sure that for the rest of his lifetime Sunday would be his favorite day of the week. It started out normally… or as normally as it could since the day the first letter had arrived. His Uncle was twitchy and tense; Harry made sure to avoid his gaze as he made breakfast. Breakfast was a quiet ordeal, a quiet entirely egg free ordeal as Vernon had refused to buy any more eggs after they had cracked to revel nothing but letters for Harry. That morning with breakfast clean up, the family retired to the sitting room where Harry, with his perfect ‘No, really, I’m here by choice… I love doing this kind of thing’ smile on his face, served fresh baked cookies.

It was the noise the caught his attention first. It was like hundreds of wings beating against the inside of the fireplace. Harry glanced at the Dursley’s, they weren’t known for their skill in observation, but he was sure they must have heard something. It wasn’t until the first letter flew from the fireplace and smacked his Uncle straight in the face that they noticed what was happening… by then it was too late.  Harry felt the aim on that particular letter was rather brilliant.

Hundreds of letters, maybe thousands, streamed in to every surface of the house. Shooting out of the fireplace like mini torpedoes, pouring out of the formerly sealed mail slot, streaming in through windows and the vents for the air. Harry supposed that it was the most brilliant display he’d ever seen. He imagined fantastical ways to explain it all, but his heart beat out a single word against his ribs… ‘magic.’

For Harry it was cumulative proof that the Dursley’s had been mistaken all along. Here, this right here, these letters streaming in… this was magic. Harry knew he had precious few seconds he had before his Uncle thrashed him. He was keenly aware of three things.

1)   He had to grab a letter quietly and hide it

2)   If he didn’t make a show of grabbing for a letter and getting caught the Oppressor would assume he was hiding one somewhere and take it back before giving Harry another thrashing.

3)   Last, but certainly not least, he needed to find a way to send a letter back to the person who sent all of these. It seemed to him that a letter sent by Owl was less likely to have a return address to which letters could be sent with nothing more than an envelope and stamp.

Harry acted quickly. He set the tray he was clutching down on the counter. Observed everyone for a moment and leaned down slowly until his fingertips brushed against thick paper. He tucked the letter carefully inside his sock so it wrapped around his ankle, secure against his body. Time for the next step in his plan.

He checked to make sure no part of the letter was visible and that his pants lay just as they should before running headlong into the flurry of letters. He brushed aside his Aunts spindly hand and leapt with a joyous cry onto the top of her coffee table. It was an incredible moment even if his frantic grabs for letters as they swirled about the air was fake, the comforting roughness of the letter tucked into his sock infused his body with life.

Vernon would have none of it. He reached for Harry, but Harry was quick and small. He threw his body through the space beneath Vernon’s arms and booked it to his cupboard. He had barely laid his hand on the small nob of a handle when great fleshy arms grabbed his from behind and dragged him back kicking against his Uncles corpulent form. Harry struggled not to protect the letter that he hand mangled in his hand, but to protect himself.

His Uncle had never been a rash man, he considered himself a cut above the riff-raff who made decision with not sort of planning or for thought. So when his Uncle screamed that they were leaving everyone stopped moving. The letters were the only things not affected by the strange fluctuations of time in the hall.

Petunia quickly moved into action. Harry was thrown into his cupboard none to kindly as she attempted to calm her husband. Petunia even argued that she would need time to clean up the letters since they couldn’t trust Harry to do it.

The usually comforting closeness of the cupboard seemed to be closing in on him as he waited for his Aunt and uncle to move into the kitchen. As their voices faded Harry removed the letter from his sock.

His fingers shook as he pried the seal loose, remarking to himself that it was a special letter indeed that was sealed thusly. The words stood out against the creamy background of the paper, their emerald tone cementing itself in his memory.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

Harry felt like screaming, like shouting in joy until the world knew or his voice gave out. MAGIC WAS REAL!!! It filled Harry with more satisfaction that anything ever had before. This moment was food and drink to him. He ran his fingers lovingly over the page… magic. The entire world could have burned down around his small cupboard under the stairs and Harry wouldn’t have known or cared.

Harry rolled over, his hand still clutching the letter, and began searching for a pen, anything with which he write out his reply. His fingers closed around the ballpoint pen his Uncle had given him for Christmas last year.  It was not wasted on him that this small hateful gift would be the method of his escape.  Harry paused; he needed to find something to write his response on… his eye lit on the sign on the inside of the door. It’s bold looping crayon lines spelled out in clumsy childish English ‘Harry’s Room’ but the back of the paper was blank.

There are moments when the Universe aligns so perfectly that, though we cannot see its machinations, the course of fate is altered into something entirely strange and different. It was no different for Harry, he scribbled out his message on the back of his drawing, and as he packed the car for his family he’d approached one of the birds. Instead of saying, please take this to Mrs. McGonagall or please take this to Hogwarts… instead he held the letter out and asked quietly.

‘Please take this to someone who can help me.’

He wouldn’t know that the Owl would bring the letter to one Professor Severus Snape. That as he strode back from Hogsmead the exhausted creature would give him a letter that would haunt them for days. No, Harry wouldn’t know this for some time.

As the Owl winged it’s way to Scotland, flirting with destiny, Harry and his Family drove endlessly through the countryside. Stopping at hotels and Inns until they reached the coast. A great storm had started blowing by the time they reached the hut on the rock, by then Harry was sure his heart was broken. For days he had waited for someone to respond to his letter, waited with his heart beating hard against his chest, until it exhausted itself.

Now, he was sure that no one was coming. Laying on the cold dirt floor, a thin blanket below him and the cold night air pressing down on him.  He watched the flames of the fire die slowly like the embers of hope he’d fostered since he sent that letter. Had he known the events unfolding miles away, he would have held out longer, but he couldn’t fight the helpless tears anymore. They ran down his cheeks in small rivers, mingling with the blood on his face before falling into the dirt.

***

Severus stood on the shore, watching as night blanketed the lands with it’s dark magic. The cool breeze of the coming fall rustled through the trees that lay to the north of him. A storm raged off shore, it’s great thunderheads and flashes of lightening humbled him. In his hands a thin piece of Muggle made paper barely weathered its abuse. Severus had crumpled it, straightened it, tossed it out, and retrieved it many times in the last few days. He would never admit to anyone other than himself but he was terrified that Harry, his last link to Lily, would be just like his father.

He knew that tomorrow was Harry’s birthday… he knew that he needed to answer the letter. That he needed to find the boy and confront those ghosts of mistakes past that he carried with him. Severus looked down at the envelope he pulled from his pocket.

‘Mr. H. Potter

The Floor

Hut on the Rock

Middle of the Sea’

Severus felt a shiver race up his spine. He had learned long ago, before even Lily, that he needed to trust his instincts. They had saved him from the Marauder’s, from his abusive and drunk father… he knew that something here was wrong. He struggled with himself for a moment longer. Finally he apparated leaving no mark that he had stood in that spot for the last hour.

The storm thrashed the small island rock. Waves crashed mightily against the stone, rain coming down with the might of bullets. Severus moved to the aged wooden door of a hut that had certainly seen better days. He disillusioned himself and opened the door silently. The wind ripped the door from his hand and slammed it against the wall waking all but the lump snoring away on the coach. He quickly moved near a damp corner of the room as a small child rose from his place in front of the dying fire. The child struggled with the door. Severus felt a sneer twist his face. There in front of him stood the spitting image of James Potter. Severus felt anger grow inside of him. Before he could exit the hut or appear before the child, loud steps thumped down the stairs to the loft. The child struggled with the door harder… there was a tension in his small form. The footsteps grew louder until finally a form came into view.

The man who appeared was large, as wide as he was tall, and in his hand was clutched a shotgun. Snape was not unfamiliar with Muggle weapons, he had received his N.E.W.T. in Muggle studies and grown up in a fairly Muggle home, but he was confused as to the purpose of the gun in this instance.

The man slammed the door shut and glared at the boy, who looked intently at his belly button.

“Boy, What’s the meaning of this? You could have woken Dudley. I told you that one more peep out of you and you’d get it, but you never listen do you, Freak.” The man’s thick jowls shook as he yelled. Severus was transfixed by the scene in front of him, his mind overlaid the scene in front of him and the past… a scene from his own childhood.

He wanted to move, to intervene by he couldn’t break the spell of memory. The man raised his free hand backhanded the boy, knocking him to the floor. He lifted his foot and with one great arch slammed it down into the boys ribs. The child didn’t yell or cry out, he bit at his lip, biting it clean through as the man began to stomp on the boys frail back.

Finally it stopped. The man grabbed the boy by his frayed collar and dragged his unresponsive form toward the very corner by which Snape stood. Severus held his breathe as the child thumped against the wall.

“Don’t move, Boy. If I found out you did…” The man trailed off, his hand tightening on the Shotgun as he turned away and headed back up stairs.

Severus looked at the lump of a boy, but instead of seeing James Potter he was caught and transfixed by Harry’s green eyes. Lily’s eyes… filled with tears and pain.  Lily’s eyes, staring up unresponsive at the leaking ceiling above him.

Harry moved. He carefully wrapped his arms around himself and began to silently sob. Severus could no longer stand quiet; he dispelled the charm that kept him unseen.

Harry didn’t notice him at first. Severus knelt beside him. He didn’t care about the dirt on his pristine robs; he reached his hand out gently as he spoke.

“Harry.” His voice was soft and infused with warmth. Harry’s head shot up, for the moment shock forced away all the other preceding emotions.

“I’ve come to take you away Harry. You’re Mum and Dad wouldn’t have wanted this for you… come with me.” Severus felt the child’s eyes appraise him before the boy spoke.

“Are you magic?” Severus nodded. The boy moved with a careful injured grace until he was hunched against Severus’ chest.

“I didn’t think you’d come. I didn’t think anyone cared.” Severus felt tears damped in robes. He placed his arms around the quivering child, taking care to move slow and avoid his injuries.

“I’ve always cared Harry… always.” 

Harry had always imagined what a hug felt like…granted he never imagined it kneeling on the floor covered in blood and cuts or that the person he was hugging would be in an equally awkward position, guaranteeing an uncomfortable hug… but it was the best thing he had ever felt. Harry shifted so he was more comfortable.

"What's your name, sir?" Harry's voice issued forth from somewhere near Severus' shoulder.

"My name is Severus Snape and I teach at Hogwarts." Harry's quiet tears had slowed and faded in the warmth of Severus' embrace.

"My name is Harry, sir."

"I know. I knew your Mum. She told me your name when you were born." Technically Snape thought to himself, Lily had told him… letters still counted as telling him. Severus knew he couldn't stay like this forever. Harry needed to get to Hogwarts; he needed to be treated… but Snape's anger toward Harry's family burned inside of him. Eating away at his stomach. He pushed the anger aside, some things were more important than revenge.

"You know my mum?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper. If not for their closeness Severus wouldn't have heard it all. It broke his heart… made him want to scream and cry at the injustice of it all. That this child had grown up with out his family. Without Lily to sing him to sleep at night or hold him close when he scraped his knees.

"Yes, Harry. I knew you Mum. Her name was Lily, she was my best friend." Harry pulled back and looked at Severus with something akin to awe. Severus' hands shook as he reached out and wiped the tears from under Harry's eyes.

"You have her eyes Harry. I can see her in you just by looking at them." Harry's bruised face broke into a wide grin as he snuggled back into Severus' arms. If there were two things that living at the Dursley's had taught him they were how to hide in plain sight and to trust his head and his heart. Harry knew, as sure as he knew his heart would continue to beat, that this man, his mum's friend, was good.

"Harry, we need to leave. I'm going to take you somewhere safe. Do you trust me?" Severus pushed Harry back just enough to look him in the eye as he spoke. Harry looked at him for a moment, Lily's eyes bored into him searching his soul for something, before he nodded.

"Alright, Hold on tight." Severus gathered the boy even closer to him and with a nearly silent crack they vanished from the small hut on the rock.

Severus felt Harry grasp him tighter as they apparated, when the world righted itself around them; he stood just outside of Hogsmeade, his eyes locked on Hogwarts for a moment before he glanced down at Harry.

The boy's eyes were closed, Severus felt the slow steady rhythm of his heart and breathing, he'd passed out. Severus looked back at the castle, his own heart beating wildly in his chest. He knew that if he took Harry there Albus would send him back to the Dursley's. He knew that Dumbledore meant it for the best, for the greater good, but he couldn't let Harry fall pray to Dumbledore's manipulations and plans they way he had.

He summoned his Patronus and sent it off with a message to Minerva and Madame Pomfrey to meet him at the Three Brooms Sticks as quickly as they could without drawing suspicion.

Severus shifted Harry so that he lay more comfortably in his arms and covered him with notice-me-not spells as he strode into the village. It was busy at the Three Broom sticks but he managed to catch Madam Rosmerta's eye. He motioned toward the back down, moments later the two of them stood in the darkness behind the Inn together.

"What's this about Severus? If you can't tell I'm bloody busy." Her arms where crossed in front of her chest and her lovely face was marred by a scowl.

"I'm calling in your debt. I need a safe room… somewhere out of the way… somewhere quiet." Rosmerta looked at him in shock. They'd been friends for years. They seemed to relate better than most of the other teachers, both of them spies for Dumbledore… both of them outcast by the light for being to in touch with the Dark side of magic. Five years ago a small group of Voldemort's more unstable former followers had been causing trouble for the Aurors. Dumbledore had ordered Snape to join them… it was through that unsavory mission that he learned of a pending attack of the Three Broom Sticks. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and the Death Eater's had planned to kill anyone they found inside. Snape had warned Rosmerta and staged a set-up. No children had been allowed into Hogsmeade that weekend… just Aurors. Rosmerta had been so grateful she declared a debt to Severus… one that he had just called up.

"Severus what's…" She never got to finish the question.

"I can't tell you… and you can't say anything to anyone about this. Not Albus… not anyone. Minerva and Poppy are coming down from the school… no one else can know that I'm here or that I was ever here. Can I trust you?" Severus was growing desperate. He could feel Harry beginning to move around in his arms. Not enough to draw attention through the charms, but enough to let Severus know that he would wake soon.

"Come this way." Rosmerta led them through the back down and up a small-unnoticed hallway that was hidden by shadows. The stairs didn't creak like the one's in the main staircase did… this passage was meant for stealth.

"Here." Rosmerta's voice was soft in the stillness of the barely lit hallway. The door opened to revel a small clean room. A serviceable bed dominated one wall and the fireplace was flanked by two well used by sturdy chairs.

"I need your word Rose…" Severus used her nickname to remind her that they had been through thick and thin together… they needed to continue to stand together.

"You have it." She griped his shoulder tightly and turned to leave the room, "I'll send Minerva and Pomfrey up when they get here." The door closed behind her and Severus was left in the strange stillness of the space.

For a moment his eyes poured over the surfaces of the room, before his mind came back to him and he settled Harry on the bed.

He dispelled the charms and sat beside Harry as he awoke.

"What was that?" Harry's voice was breathy and rough.

"It's called apparating. It allows witches and wizards to travel instantly from one place to another. I'm sorry I didn't warn you. It can be rather uncomfortable the first time." Severus laid his hand against Harry's. His finger's clutching the boy's.

"Where are we?" Harry's eyes darted around the room the same way that Severus' own had just moments prior.

"A place called Hogsmeade. We're in Scotland. Some friends of mine, … and your parents, are coming to meet us. One of them is a Healer. She's going to make you feel better." Severus felt a little unsure about how to talk to Harry.

"I see. Who are they? How do they know my parents?" Severus saw the spark of intelligence behind Harry's eyes and his lips drew up into a smile… yes, this was definitely Lily's son.

"Their names are Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey. They both work at Hogwarts with me. Professor McGonagall was your Father's favorite teacher. She was also very close to the both of them while they were at school. Madame Pomfrey was the Healer for their class and mine. She can fix anything." Severus smiled… but the look of concentration on Harry's face stilled him.

"Why didn't she save them after the car accident? Why didn't their magic save them?" Harry looked up at him and Severus could see that his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Car crash?" Severus' couldn't hide the confusion in his voice.

"You said you were her friend… how can you not know about the car crash that killed them?" Harry looked more angry than sad now and Severus could understand, though the anger that grew in him was closer to a violent all consuming rage. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

"You parents didn't die in a car crash. They were murdered. An evil wizard named Lord Voldemort killed them. He wanted to kill you and your parents would let him. They loved you so much they died to keep you safe. Harry… what's wrong?" Harry had gone ghostly pale, except his cheeks, which were flushed.

"How could they? How could they lie to me like that? I get that they didn't want me… I get that they thought I was a freak, I mean they don't know that magic is real, but to lie to me about my parents death…" Harry trailed off for a moment, his fingers rose until they brushed against the famous lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"How did I get this?" Harry asked as he pulled the fringe of his hair back from his forehead, leaving the livid scar in plain view.

Severus brushed his fingers across it.

"After he killed your parents, he tried to kill you. He cast a curse on you called the Killing Curse. No one has ever survived it but you. No one knows for sure what happened that night, but you are famous in the Magical world… because that night when Voldemort cast the curse on you something happened and not only did you survive but he died. It is believed that you single handedly ended his reign and saved all of us." Severus drew his fingers away from the scar and used them to raise Harry's face so their eyes met.

"You Aunt and Uncle were wrong not just because they lied to you. They should never have laid a single hand on you. They should never have called you a freak. Your Aunt Petunia knew that your mother was a witch. She wanted to have magic too, but when she learned that she didn't she grew angry and bitter toward your mum. You deserved better." Severus would have said more but a firm knock at the door interrupted him.

"Severus?" Snape could recognize Minerva's voice clearly but he needed to be sure. He motioned for Harry to be still and silent as he drew his wand and opened the door just a crack.

"What was the last thing Minerva McGonagall said to me before I left Hogwarts to work on my Potions Mastery?" Snape pointed the wand directly as her throat, a spell on the tip of his tongue.

"I told you that no matter what happened you would always have a home at Hogwarts." Minerva answered immediately. Snape nodded and leveled his wand at Madame Pomfrey.

"What is your animagus?" Snape didn't relent in the face of Pomfrey's rather intense blush.

"An Albino corn snake." She whispered softly. Severus let them both enter the room. Pomfrey moved with grace and speed toward the bed, where Harry looked at both women with wide eyes, her own seasoned eyes taking in the bruising on his face and arms.

" Severus… what's going on?" Minerva looked at Harry and knew that he was James and Lily's son… how could she not… she had been named his Godmother in their will.

"It's a long story why don't I tell you while Poppy treats Harry. Is that acceptable?" He glanced at the three other people in the room waiting for a nod from each before beginning.

The story of the letter, the hut on the rock, the beating, and them ending up here took more time than Severus had planned. He gained more insight into Harry as the boy threw in bits of information that he didn't have and Madame Pomfrey threw in things she had learned while treating him. Finally they sat in silence each of the adults lost in thought while Harry, under Poppy's careful gaze and a potion's influence, slept.

"We need to get him to Hogwarts. He needs to be somewhere safe." Minerva's voice was thready with unshed tears.

"You're right, he needs to be someplace safe," Severus looked Minerva in the eyes. For a long moment no one spoke… "But not Hogwarts."

Poppy whipped around and stared at Severus for a moment before looking back at the sleep child with sad eyes.

"You are, of course, correct Severus." Poppy didn't say anything more.

"What do you mean? Why not…" Minerva trailed off. She had told Dumbledore ten years ago that the Dursley's were not good people. She'd told him that they wouldn't do right by Harry, but he hadn't listened. She asked many times over the years why Harry couldn't come live with her and how he was doing only to be pat on the shoulder like a petulant five year old and sent on her way. She straightened her shoulders and strengthened her resolved. She wouldn't let Dumbledore have another chance to destroy Harry's life; she owed it to James and Lily.

"What did you have in mind?"

Severus looked at Minerva intently. There was little question in his mind that the next few moments needed to be handled carefully. If he pushed he could loose any headway he'd made with McGonagall. Severus thought through the possibilities racing about in his mind.

"Severus?" Minerva watched him, a single eyebrow lifted above unflinching eyes.

"I think there are some things you need to know." He rose from one of the chairs and paced in front of the dark fireplace before turning to look at her. Minerva had always been this way; a stoic impartial observer of the world around her, at this moment Severus envied her. His fingers rang through his lank hair before he sighed and sat back down and faced her. He knew that telling her the whole truth would be painful.

"I was the one who told the Dark Lord about the prophecy. I was in the Hog's Head that day… I was so young. I was so foolish. I ran out of the bar before Trelawney could even finish it. I went right to him and I told him everything I heard. He was rather pleased with me for a few days, until he found out there had been more. At first I really didn't think anything of it. If the Dark Lord died… then all would be lost and we were all prepared to do whatever it took to save him… even if it meant hunting down and killing an innocent child." Severus glanced away from Minerva. He locked his gaze of Harry, drawing strength from the boy as he plunged forward.

"We were all so young… so naïve… but we didn't doubt… I didn't doubt… until he figured out it was either the Longbottoms or the Potters. I was sick for days; I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. I prayed…" Severus placed a hand over his mouth for a moment looking heartsick and exhausted, before he forced himself to continue.

"I prayed it was the Longbottoms. I hoped with everything I had that they would be the ones to die and that James and Harry and…" his voice broke "Lily would be safe. When he decided it was the Potters I knew that I'd made a mistake. I did everything I could to save her life. I asked for her life to be spared, I know it was selfish of me, but I was so caught up in my hate for James Potter I believed that if she lived then maybe I could have her back, but he wouldn't listen to me. I knew that I'd been misled, that everything I believed was fake, and that I couldn't protect her on my own. I went to Dumbledore. I begged him to protect her, to do something to save her life. I begged him, but he wanted something back… something in return." Severus stood and resumed his pacing.

"You have to understand, Minerva, I… I had nothing I could give him. Nothing I could give in exchange for their lives… for her life. So I gave him the only thing I could. Me. I told Albus I'd spy for him. I swore an unbreakable to save her life. I thought that he might do it… that he might save them, but they died and I had no choice but to keep serving him to keep spying. I felt so dirty just being near him. When I found out what he planned I apparated to Godric's Hallow. I was going to try to kill him, anything to protect them. I knew Lily wouldn't be happy without them, so I was going to save them, to save all of them. It was to late… the house was a smoking mess when I got there and Lily… she was just laying there." Severus didn't pause to wipe at the tears pouring down his face, he was caught in the memory of that horrible night.

"Her eyes were wide, so wide and empty. She looked like she could have fainted, except for her eyes. I can still it… I can still see her." Severus closed his eyes, seeing his precious Lily lying on the floor of the nursery. It was the reoccurring material of his nightmares. Her death played in the velvet space of his mind, over and over again until it nearly broke him.

"I looked for Harry but he wasn't there. I didn't know what to do. I felt so lost. Like there was a hole in my heart that was threatening to consume me. I ended up at Malfoy Manner hours later. I don't know how I got there… but when I finally found Lucius I was incoherent. I rambled on about the Dark Lord killing Lily and how James was dead. Lucius handed me a cup of tea and sat me down. He looked me in the eye and said something to me that I remember to this day. He said 'we swore in blood that we were brothers. We swore we'd follow each other to the gates of hell and you did, Brother, but I won't make you follow me where I'm going. I won't loose my family to that mad man. I will stand against him and bare the trouble that comes with it to ensure their safety.' He told me that Narcissa and him had deceived the Dark Lord. That they had hidden her pregnancy, that they had decided that they would no longer follow him. They told me that they wanted me to be the boys Godfather… but they needed to know where I stood." Severus' tears had slowed and he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and removed all traces of them from his cheeks.

"That night… the three of us swore loyalty to no one but ourselves and each other. I was still forced to serve two masters, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, and Lucius the Dark Lord… but we swore in blood. They made me their sons Godfather… my precious Draco. He helped me fill the void in my heart." Severus glanced across the room to where Harry slept and then back at Minerva. Her own eyes were damp.

"I know that you don't trust them, but I do. Lucius will protect Harry with every breath he has in his body. I know we can trust them. They almost lost so much. Draco was supposed to be born at the end of July… his parents defied the Dark Lord many times before he was born by hiding Narcissa. They could have been the family in the Prophecy and they know how lucky they are." Severus expected some kind of response from his stoic colleague but not the one he got.

Minerva reached out to him and drew him into a comforting hug.

"You are not the only one who has made mistakes, Severus." She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed him into a chair. She turned away from him for a moment to light the fireplace with a flick of her wand. When she looked at him again he saw pain reflected in her gaze.

"After James and Lily went into hiding members of the Order took turns looking in on them. One day when I was with them, they told me that they had made me Harry's Godmother. I was ecstatic. Harry was such a good baby, quiet and inquisitive… I knew I would have to fight young Mr. Black for time with him if Merlin forbid, but I didn't mind. When I came back to Hogwarts Albus came to me and made me sign away my rights as Godmother. He said it would be better if something happened that Harry be with family. I argued that I was family… but I was so sure that it was all just him being hyper vigilant and nothing would happen that I signed it. Now, look at the boy. He's been abused and neglected for as long as he can remember. The past is past… we cannot change it, we cannot alter times flow and fix our mistakes, we have to carry on in the knowledge of our mistakes and try not to make them again. I trust you, Serveus. I know that you would never let anything happen to Harry. If you think the Malfoys can help, then floo them. We have precious time before Albus figures us out and we still have much to do."

Severus was slow to move but he knelt before the fireplace and threw in his floo powder. He whispered the password for the Malfoys private floo and waited. It was hardly any time at all before Lucius' face appeared in the flames.

"Severus. To what do I owe this honor?" Lucius was careful in his address, his past had taught him to be cautious on the public floo.

"Lucius, I need you to step through. I need your help." Severus knew that he couldn't tell Lucius everything that had happened anyway but face to face.

"Move back." Lucius was firm in his belief that family was the most important thing a man could have and that family included Severus and he would do anything for him.

Severus stood and stepped away from the fireplace. Seconds later the fire roared a brilliant green and out stepped Lucius Malfoy.

The years had been kind to him. His son had brought so much joy in to his life and his wife's heart… it showed in the shallow crows feet beside his eyes and the easy hug he gave Severus.

"Now, What brings me through the fireplace tonight and into such esteemed company?" He inclined his head toward Minerva and Poppy respectfully.

"I need to hide someone. " Severus led Lucius over to the bed. Severus knew what Lucius saw first. The lightening bolt emblazoned on Harry's forehead. Severus watched as his eyes found the now fading bruises. Lucius locked eyes with Poppy.

"Have you run a diagnostic spell?" His words where clipped and icy his emotion hidden behind his pureblood mask

Poppy nodded and handed over several sheets of parchment. It showed the boys most current injuries and any experienced since his birth. It was a sad testimony of the misery of his young life. When he was done he handed the papers carefully back to Poppy showing no emotion.

"Does Dumbledore know about this?" Lucius said Dumbledore as though it were a swear word, something distasteful in his mouth.

"He's the one who placed the boy with the Muggles who did this." Severus snarled back at Lucius, his anger rising again.

They were so intent on each other that neither noticed that Harry had slowly returned to wakefulness. His vivid eyes hazy and unfocused on the people who stood around his bed.

"Can I have some water?" His voice was thick… it felt like he'd swallowed a whole bag of cotton balls.

"Of Course dear. " Poppy pulled a small cup from her Healer's bag and filled it with water. She handed him his glasses first knowing that he would be more comfortable being able to see everyone. She waited until he was sitting before she handed over the cup. The water was gone in a few huge gulps; and a hand was dragged lazily across his upper lip removing the excess.

"If you don't mind Sir… who are you?" Harry looked directly at Malfoy as he spoke.

"My name is Lucius Malfoy. It seems, Mr. Potter, that you are going to be staying with me and my family for the next month." Lucius tried to make his tone warm… but he struggled, the only child he'd really interacted with was his son. Severus saw the look of concern and fear grow on Harry's face. He reached out and placed his arm around Harry's thin shoulders.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll be there the whole time." Severus felt the tension leave Harry's body as he leaned into him.

"Thank you." His green eyes drifted closed and he slept again.

Lucius looked at the boy and his brother and knew that neither would be the same again.

Lucius felt a hand on his shoulder; Minerva drew him away from the bed.

"Albus placed Harry with the Dursley's, Lily's sister's family, because Lily's sacrifice created blood wards that kept Harry safe from Death Eaters and those who wished him harm. Do you know of anything that might be comparable? Even if we solve the problem for now and keep Harry away until the school term starts… what about next summer?" Minerva had always like Lucius. He looked at a problem and saw hundreds of answers where most people saw none. Lucius was still and silent for a moment, before a spark grew in his eyes.

"That shouldn't be a problem… we'll use the same thing." Lucius felt a smirk twist his lips.

"Petunia and her family are the only family of Lily's left. We don't want Harry near them ever again…so how can we use the blood wards?" Lucius considered for a moment longer then spoke.

"The Potters are related to the Blacks and the Blacks are related to the Malfoy's." He stated as though it was the simplest thing ever, however Minerva took a moment to understand the meaning.

"Lily wasn't the only one to lay down her life that night. James died for both of them… we can base the blood wards off him."

Minerva’s eyebrows where drawn together in concentration. Her mouth was stern and her eyes were glazed as she puzzled through the possibilities of this new revelation.

“Will that work?” Severus’ voice was soft and laced with pain.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Lucius crossed back over to the bed and placed a comforting hand on Severus’ shoulder. He knew how much Lily’s death had damaged the younger man. He knew the pain that he carried, a pain he rarely showed.

“I asked Voldemort to give Lily a choice… a chance to live. She didn’t have to die that night. Her life could have been spared.” Severus’ voice trailed off as he fixed his eyes back on Harry, who lay curled up in his arms fast asleep.

Minerva spoke as she joined them.

“We don’t know what happened that night. No one was there except Harry and he doesn’t remember… but I know this. Sacrifice is not based on chance to live or stand aside… it is based on the belief that what you are giving up, for James’ that his death… his life… were worth less than that of his wife and child. I saw the house… I know that James’ fought for them with every breath in his body, but I know, as sure as you do, that James’ knew he would die and that he wasn’t angry about his coming death. Instead, I know that he would have wished there was more he could do for his family. Sacrifice is born of a loving heart. James loved his family.” Minerva ran a shaky hand through Harry’s hair.

Severus’ was pulled from his pain by the sight of a single silver tear running down her cheek.

“I know that James and you were never friends. I know that he was wrong to bully you in school and we were wrong to overlook it… but I know he loved Lily. They were like my own children… I never imagined that they would leave this world before me. Then to be deprived of seeing their child for years… my heart feels like it might burst. I don’t know what happened that night… but I know that I won’t let Harry suffer ever again.” Minerva ignored the tear as it rolled down her face and neck before being absorbed into the high collar of her robes. In front of him, Severus saw a transformation occur, from grieving mother to the teacher he knew so well from his youth. She turned and faced Lucius.

“How long will it take you to erect the Blood Wards?” Her voice was soft but steely.

“A day. I will call in the best warders I can get. By tomorrow evening the Mansion will be on full lock down.” Minerva could see Lucius mind racing behind his quicksilver eyes.

“In the mean time, Harry cannot stay here. Dumbledore has tracking spells on the boy, he knows his every movement. I’m surprised that he hasn’t come down here to reclaim the child yet.” Minerva paced the length in front of the bed as she thought.

“I know a place where he can go until tomorrow.” She didn’t bother to explain as she walked toward the fireplace. She leaned down and floo-ed one Filius Flitwick. Lucius waited until she’d called Flitwick though the floo, then speaking in a cutting tone.

“Surely this is not your plan. I am aware that Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion in his youth but any place that he would take the boy Dumbledore would surely know about. We cannot risk it.” Severus looked at Lucius in shock. Here was the cold blooded Pure Blood he’d known for years, defending Harry as he were part of the Malfoy family, it may not have seemed like it to the others in the room, but Severus knew it was concern that made Lucius turn cold.

“Such confidence in me Mr. Malfoy.” Filius squeaked as he stepped into the room.  He cast a quick charm on his robes, righting them, as he moved toward the group.

“Now, what can I help you with Minerva?” He spoke to Minerva but his eyes where locked on Harry sleeping beside Severus.

“I need you to remove the tracking spells that Dumbledore has placed in Harry Potter.” Minerva had never been one to beat around the bush, but even Severus’ was surprised at her bluntness.

Before anything could be questioned or resolved Poppy, who had been silent for sometime, spoke.

“I need to go back to Hogwarts and get potions for my patient. Don’t send him on his way until I get back.” Poppy withdrew from her place beside the bed and floo-ed back to the school.

“Explain yourself, please.” Filius Flitwick was the kind of man who viewed disaster with a calm eye it came from being the youngest of four, who grew up with his twenty cousins, and from his years a dueling champion. So when Minerva made such a request, the only real reaction he gave was a single raise eyebrow.

“We are removing Harry from his Guardians. Evidence has been submitted tonight that young Harry has been not only kept ignorant of his heritage and parents… but been neglected and abused by his Aunt and Uncle. We are going to move him into Malfoy Manner… but we will need one day to get everything situated.  I have a plan on where to send him, but all of our efforts could be spoiled if Dumbledore found him. I know I could remove them… but Albus would surely notice.” Minerva eyed Filius as he eyed Harry.

“I will do as you ask. If not for James and Lily than for Harry himself, but I want to meet him.” Filius had adored Lily, not that there were many who didn’t, but Lily had been his star student and a good woman. James… had been a brat for most of his Hogwarts years… but Filius could appreciate a good joke and the Marauder’s spell work was always top of the line. He needed to know the measure of Harry, to know that his students lived on in the boy. It was Minerva’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I know that he is exhausted and I’m not saying tonight, but before he goes to Hogwarts I want to meet him, sit down and talk to him about his parents… and I want to give him their wands. I took them from Godric’s Hallow and have kept them safe for him all these years.” Minerva looked like she might cry again, but Filius pat her on her hand and began to chew the edges of his moustache as he pondered his challenge.

“A day, you said?” Lucius nodded.

“Alright. It’ll be done.” Filius filled with joy. A challenge, something he hadn’t had since he’d retired from dueling. He nodded to the others around the room, before stepping back through the Floo to Hogwarts. Still muttering to himself and nodding occasionally as his thoughts discovered a pleasing avenue to accomplish his goal.

“You still haven’t told us where boy will go in the interim?” Lucius made no attempt to disguise his curiosity.

“Simple enough… he will go to the Black Family home.  I know that Walburga Black reinstated Sirius back into the family after Regulus died and he betrayed the Potters. Normally we would need him to let us in… but the wards would have passed to the next Black as he is in Azkaban, which would have been Bellatrix, but since she is also in Azkaban and Andromeda was disowned… that leaves…” Minerva looked up at Lucius.

“My wife.” Minerva nodded and motioned Lucius to the floo. However, before he could call, a knock resounded through the room.

No one spoke or moved. Severus untangled himself from Harry and moved to the door. As before he drew his wand before opening it. He used his body to block the view of the room.

There before him stood Albus Dumbledore. Severus felt his blood freeze in his veins.

“What brings you here tonight Headmaster?” His voice was silky smooth with just the right amount of snark to throw off any suspicions.

“Ahh, Severus, my boy. A friend mentioned that you were here to night. It was rather difficult to find you as Rosmerta was busy and unable to speak to me, but I was fortunate that the same friend mentioned seeing you, also saw you head up this hallway. I have need of you assistance. Perhaps we could discuss this inside?” The Headmaster’s tone was curious.

 “Headmaster… as much as I am grieved to disappoint you, but I have found company for the night and I’m sure she would be rather offended if I invited you in for some conversation and a Fire Whiskey.  Please forgive the request, but I would entreat you for the night off, so to speak.” Severus felt the tension in the room; all of their plans could be for naught if this didn’t go his way.

“Severus, I really must insist. It’s about Harry Potter.” Dumbledore leaned in as he spoke and Severus strengthened his Occlumency shields, things could go wrong very quickly.

“Please, Headmaster. I am rather indisposed at the moment and would rather skip your stirring speech about the Potter spawn. I’m sure his doting family will have him fattened up and dressed in silk, ready for seven years of making my life hell.” Severus curled up the corner of his mouth in mock disgust as he spoke. His palm was sweaty on the inside of the door.

“My Boy, I wish you’d give Harry a chance.” Dumbledore sighed but relented. He nodded his goodbye and moved away from the door.

Severus knew that Dumbledore wasn’t satisfied by his answers… for the moment however they had hopefully bought enough time to move Harry out of the Three Broomsticks. Severus closed the door and pressed his forehead against the aged wood.

“We need to hurry.” His voice was direct at the door but the others in the room heard him.

“I agree Severus.” Severus whipped around, there, standing in the center of the room was Narcissa Malfoy… she must came come in while he spoke to the Headmaster.

He looked at Lucius.

“Silencing spells are my specialty.” Had Lucius Malfoy been anyone else he would have smirked… had Narcissa Malfoy been anyone else she would have blushed and smacked him… but as it was neither responded to the implication.

Minerva looked unmoved.

“We have already discussed it. Madame Malfoy will take Harry to the Black Estate in London. After that we will wait for word from Filius and Mr. Malfoy before we move Harry to Malfoy Manner.” Minerva voiced the plan aloud… it was a reassuring reminder that the next couple of days would have them all on edge.

“We need the potions from Poppy before we leave.” Severus told the room as everyone seemed to ready themselves for action.

“My son will be accompanying us. He will be coming through the Floo shortly. I know that this must be kept a secret, but it will do Harry good to be around another child.” Minerva looked hesitant but she knew Narcissa was firmly set on this course of action.

“He will be joining us at the Black Estate when he wakes.”  Narcissa glanced at the small magical clock perched precariously on the hearth, everyone glanced there as well.  It was nearing dawn.  Minerva considered moving Harry now… but they had to wait for Poppy for just a moment longer.

“In the meantime…”  She turned from the group and moved toward the bed where Harry slept, his eyebrows were drawn together and his body was curled up on itself.

Narcissa sat carefully on the edge of the bed and reached out a pale hand toward the boy.  She ran her fingers through his tangled jet colored hair and soothed his furrowed brow with a gentle caress.  Her eyes didn’t leave his face.  Lucius moved closer and placed his hand on her shoulder.  There was no need for either of them to speak.  The words hung between them, unspoken, but not un-heard. They didn’t moved or break the silence of their vigil until Poppy floo-ed into the room.  Her face was tight with rage.

“Albus has decided that something is going on.  He is camped out in the infirmary waiting for Hagrid to return with Harry.  He won’t tell me anything but that.  I think he knows that something is going on… he’s watching me very closely.”  She handed a bag pull of potions to Severus.  “I have to get back.  I told him that I needed to run an errand.  I have to get back before he gets suspicious.  Severus I assume you know how to administer all of those,” Severus glanced in the bag and then at Poppy with a ‘you really felt the need to ask that’ scowling expression, “Well then…  I’ll be on my way.  Before I go, Filius asked me to let you know that the book you wished to move is checked out of the Library and should be back in by tomorrow morning.”  Poppy turned and stormed back through the fireplace.  Minerva was the first to speak.

“Well…  It seems that Filius has already set his plan into motion.  The tracking spells should be removed by morning.  Let’s get Harry to the Black Estate… it’s late and we’re all going to be feeling these hours when we wake.”  Minerva stood and shook hands with everyone in the room.  She leaned toward Harry and let her hand rest on his for a moment.

“I’ll floo Severus tomorrow. He’ll be our relay point for information.” She left the room in a quick swish of robes and a flash of green fire.

“I’ll accompany you to your family’s home.”  Severus said as he lifted a groggy Harry into his arms.

“I’ll be heading back to the mansion.  I’ve a couple more hours of work before I can rest.  I’ll need to reach out to several contacts to ensure that everything goes according to plan… I’ll also have the house elves to set up a room for Harry near Draco’s.”  Lucius rubbed his fingertips across his chin… his face tight in concentration.  He absent mindedly placed a chaste kiss on Narcissa’s cheek and disappeared with a soft pop.

“He hasn’t been this excited since he found out about the Chamber of Secrets while at Hogwarts.  Remember how he plan to search the whole castle and find it… so he dug into the history of the school looking for more information.”  Narcissa had a maudlin smile on her face. She stood beside Severus and placed a hand tightly on his arm. She smiled briefly before she apparated the three of them away.  Downstairs none of the patrons were aware of the events of the last few hours.  They were slowly drowning themselves in Butter beer and Fire Whiskey… floating through the world oblivious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Miles away in the outskirts of London three people appeared in front of a series of apartments that had seen better days.   Narcissa leaned close to Severus and whispered the address in his ear.  Slowly the walls of Number Eleven and Number Thirteen spread apart and from the space created slid, Number Twelve.  The home had belonged to the Black family for nearly two hundred years.  The flats around it had been renovated… but this one had stayed the same.  It’s dark brick work and dropping windows giving the home the look of an aged woman who viewed the world with an unflappable confidence.

Narcissa had hated Number 12 as a child.  It was the home of her cousins Sirius and Regulus… but more importantly it had been the home of her crazy Aunt Walburga. Narcissa could understand bringing Harry here… after all Aunt Walburga’s paranoia mixed with that of several other Black generations had made this one of the safest places in all of England… but she certainly didn’t relies returning to a home that I sat empty for some seven years.

The wards shifted around them as they moved toward the door.  Narcissa could feel them sliding over her skin like water.  She drew her wand over the skin of her hand, cutting as she went, then ran her bleeding palm across the wood of the door.  It soaked into the door as unused locks and chains began to open.

Number Twelve looked almost exactly as she remembered it, except the dust and cobwebs had never been allowed to flourish like this under Walburga’s firm hand. She curled her lip in disgust.

“Kreacher!”  Her voice was sharp.  In the blink of an eye, the sad form of the Black house elf stood before them.  Narcissa appraised him with a keen eye.

“Kreacher, three rooms need to be prepared and the house cleaned.  Prepare the rooms now, but by morning I want this house as it should be.” Kreacher came to life under her stern tone.

“Yes, Mistress.”  He popped away and Narcissa allowed Severus to enter the house. His own face twisted up in disgust as he glanced around at the home.

“What was Minerva thinking sending the boy here?  It’s in shambles.”  It was clear to Severus that Minerva McGonagall had lost her mind.

“There is one very important reason.”  Narcissa closed the door and whispered a Latin word.  Severus felt the wards close in around them.  He could feel the power of generations of Black magic pouring over his skin sealing them in.

“Grimmauld Place is as well protected as Hogwarts.  I would say better even, for one reason, my family has never be afraid of using dark magic and wards to secure their home.  This is the safest place Harry can be right now.”  She motioned Severus toward the stairs and led the way up toward the first floor.  Kreacher appeared before them at the first landing.

“Rooms are ready Mistress.  Kreacher will be showing you.”  Severus and Narcissa followed him up to their rooms.  Severus settled Harry into his bed for the night and then sought his own.  His body ached from the hours he’d kept… and he was grateful for the clean cotton sheets as he drifted into a deep sleep.

Narcissa, who had a child of her own, slept with a careful ear toward the sound of crying, she had barely been sleeping for an hour when whimpers from Harry’s room woke her.  She crossed the hall and entered his room quietly.  Harry sat in his bed, his shoulders shaking, his knees drawn to his chest, with tears rolling down his pale cheeks.  He didn’t look up when she entered.  He was too caught in the nightmare with the fearful visages of his past swirling around him.  Narcissa felt a deep affection for this boy, his loss had saved her family, and his pain had made her life better.  She wanted moved toward the bed.

“Harry?”  Her voice was sweet and cut through the harsh tones that had so easily ensnared the boy.

“I’m sorry I woke you up, Miss.  I’ll be quieter.”  He rested his head against his knees.

“Oh Harry.”  Narcissa sat next to him on the bed and placed an arm around his thin shoulders.  Harry flinched and tensed.  Narcissa didn’t say a word, she drew Harry closer to her and began to hum a lullaby that Bellatrix had sung to her as a child.

He eyes slowly closed and his muscles loosened. He drifted off to sleep in the comfort of her presence.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry woke the next morning and with a growing belly followed his nose to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.  He could see the woman from last night standing at the stove.  A long worn table lay between her and the door at the table Harry could see  small blonde haired boy with a large plate of food.  He was sure he was going to be in trouble for sleeping so late, but the woman motioned for him to sit.  A place setting had been set up right next to the blonde boy.  Harry didn’t look up or speak, he felt the tension in his muscles… he was afraid and unsure.

Harry was so caught in his fears that he was startled when a pale hand reached over and deposited a spoonful of eggs on his plate.

“Eat up.  Mother rarely cooks, but when she does it is always quite delicious.”  Harry looked from the eggs on his plate to the boy and back again but said nothing.

“Draco, perhaps Harry would like something else.”  Narcissa spoke from her place by the stove.

“Of course, Mother.”  Draco began with to question Harry with fervor about what he like as he continued to pile different foods on his plate.  Harry didn’t speak.

“What about this?”  French Toast was laid on his plate.

“No?  What about this?”  Now, Toast.

“This?”  And bacon.

“What about this?”  And sausage.

On and on it went until Harry’s plate was stacked high with food and Narcissa was struggling to hold back her laughter.

There are few moments in life when fate is kind to those who labor under its burden, but this was one of those. Severus Snape lay asleep, dreamless and content for the first time in years. Narcissa watched her son, her beloved child play a game of exploding snap with the very child who saved his life. Lucius Malfoy felt the weight of McGonagall’s approval for the first time since he’d been barely more than a youth. Harry felt like he was finally home… all of them were happy to embrace the feeling, because even young Draco and naive Harry could feel that something was lurking just outside the moment, something that was sure to destroy all of this happiness.

               Still, some miles away another series of events where unfold themselves. Augusta Longbottom was a woman of uncompromising strength. To those who had worked with her or who served alongside her on the Board of Governors she was a paragon of the old ways and always ready to fight for what she believed, but at home… in the silence of Longbottom Manor, she was something else entirely.

               For the first couple of weeks that she’d come to care for her young grandson Neville she was constantly torn between wanting to hold the child and wanting to banish him from her sight into the care of various house elves. She could see how much he looked like her beloved son Frank. She could see sweet Alice, in his eyes. She could see them so clearly within Neville, that sometimes, when she looked at him, she saw her son and her daughter-in-law and the plain white room in St. Mungo’s where they were slowly wasted away…lost in their own minds. It was hard in those first weeks, to push down the tragedy and the anger and look at the boy. Still… when she did she could barely pull her eyes away, because those time when she looked at young Neville… she saw what she almost lost; the last piece, the only piece of Frank and Alice that truly remained.

               She made a resolve one night as she clutched the boy to her chest… made a promise that she would love Neville and raise him as best she could, for the sake of those who’d saved him: for Frank, for Alice, and for Bellatrix. She promised that she would pour all of the love she held for her family and for the boy himself into each moment she was gifted to spend with him. So, the moment she stepped in the door of Longbottom Manor she changed. Her shoulders lost their tension, her face brightened with a smile, and she’d spend hours each day playing with him and teaching Neville everything that she could. When she saw that he was a gifted with plants and growing things, she gave him his mother’s green house to tend. When she saw how her brother Algie treated the boy, she banned him from the manor. She praised his triumphs and talked him through his failures… she raised the boy to be a good man.

Neville’s magic was strong and earthy rooted in the plants he so dearly loved. He’d never play Quidditch like his father, but he was smart like his mother. He had a keen mind for charms and transfiguration theory, and a steady hand for basic potioneering. Augusta couldn’t have been prouder when he received his Hogwarts letter. They’d made plans to go to Diagon Alley shortly before the start of term when a letter arrived that changed everything.

Augusta Longbottom recognized Minerva’s tidy handwriting immediately. So when she began to read she felt her world tip on it axis.

Dearest Augusta,

I have known you for years to be a woman of shrewd sense and unshakeable confidences. You were one of the only people during the war who I knew I would want at my side no matter what was coming after me. It is in the spirit of our friendship that I am writing to you now.

For many years, I have lamented to you about the depth of my sorrow over every relinquishing my rights as young Harry’s God Mother. You were the only one, aside from Albus, who I ever told about my relationship with James’ and Lily’s son. You knew the pain that being able to see him caused me and the only consolation that would mend my broken heart was the knowledge that I would see him again and Albus’ promise to look over the boy.

Now, I must come to you, as I have so many times before, begging for your clear view of the events that now foist themselves upon me. The story begins some days ago, when Severus received a letter from young Harry. The letter, in a child’s clumsy hand, was asking for help. It took Severus many days to pull himself from his anger at James Potter and go to him. Severus has not be entirely clear as to what happened that night, or rather last night, but the words he has spoken are to the heart of the matter.

Harry’s guardians, who are Lily’s only remaining family, neglected and abused him in a matter most horrifying. Severus saw Vernon Dursley beat Harry and throw him into the corner, what’s more the others who were just meters away said nothing, did nothing, and as Severus recounts Harry’s cousin slept through it all. I tell you, in this manner, that you might understand the crux of the problem. This event, which has shattered the faith I have kept in Albus all these years, was a common occurrence in Harry’s life, so common that it barely warranted rolling over in bed to see what caused such ruckus.

Augusta, I am shaken. To the bottom and core of myself, I am shaken. What am I to do? We have found a place for Harry to be until the school term begins, but I have no knowledge of how to proceed. I have had children come to before and dealt with abuse in other children from Hogwarts… but his boy, he is my Godson and I have failed him.

Please Augusta, your calm demeanor and ability to cut to the root of the problem would be a boon.

Merlin and all the magics of the universe guide you,

Minerva

For sometime Augusta sat unmoving in her chair. It was hard to say how long but when she pulled herself from her stupor the room was cold and dark, the once gently burning fire now little more than smoldering ash. Augusta had no words to say, no quick witticisms to offer, not even a kind word to give her friend. Soon a feeling rose in Augusta, it burned out the cold and filled the marrow of her bones with fire. Her long contained and controlled magic flared and sparked across her skin.

‘I will not let this go unpunished, Albus, there will be no quarter for you from the House of Longbottom.’

Her heart beat a quick staccato and her magic flash brightly in agreement.

Hope is a waking dream.

Aristotle

Narcissa was a quiet woman, she always had been. When given the opportunity she was more likely to spend the extra time evaluating the situation before deciding to act. When she was growing up in the Black household she learned to keep calm in every situation, her mother would not have it no other way. Showing fear or surprise was a weakness and the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black did not produce weak individuals.

So when she sent Draco up to wake Severus and lead young Harry into the kitchen to talk she found herself relying heavily on these skills. Harry had responded to the magical moments of the morning with a shy joy… but no curiosity or disbelief as she might expect him too.  He carried no anger or mistrust in him despite the struggle and pain of his life, but there was a stillness about him that lay close to his bones and broke her heart. Narcissa, while quiet and calm, was a curious woman, and it behooved to better understand this child.

“Harry, Dear, How are you feeling today?” She started with an informal question, easing him into the conversation.

“I’m fine Ma’am. I’m sorry for waking you last night, I have nightmares sometimes and I have trouble being quiet. Last night was the worst.” Harry had laughed while playing cards with Draco, and smiled at breakfast as he admitted he had no idea what half the things piled on his plate tasted like and had no idea what he wanted to eat for breakfast, but  that stillness that Narcissa observed in him remained. It clung to him even now, shrouding every action and disguising his fears.

“Do not overly concern yourself with waking me Harry. I am a mother, I could do no less than comfort you and I do not hold you accountable or in debt for your response to your nightmares.” Narcissa hadn’t meant to sound uptight and pretentious, but when she opened her mouth to speak again, sure that she had either offended Harry with her tone and that he had most likely not understood the intention of her statement she was surprised, the first of many times to come, she was sure.

“I am grateful for your compassion. You say that all mothers would respond thusly but I have found that it is not always the case. My Aunt Petunia, while very much a mother, saw no need to provide such comforts.”  Harry traced the worn grain of the table with one finger as he spoke, he eyes distant and locked in the past. Narcissa considered for a moment before she spoke.

“You are a very well-spoken young man Harry.  Most eleven year olds are not so articulate.” The question was implied… Narcissa watched as Harry deliberated his answer… she could see the gears and cogs of his mind working furiously behind his expressive eyes.

“My Aunt and Uncle would much rather that I not exist at all, much less live in their house where my strangeness could infect their precious son Dudley. I did my best to stay out of the way and to stay quiet. I was hiding from him in the Library at school one day when I started reading. I read everything that I could get my hands on. I read all the kids books and then moved on to the books for the older kids. After I’d read everything that I could in that library, I started walking to the Public Library after school. It was just down the road and my Aunt didn’t care. I read everything… books have been my life since the first time I cracked the spine on ‘Where the Wild Things Are.’  There was a sliver of a smile on his pale lips, it made the sight even sadder. Here was a child who should have been given every love and comfort, but instead was given words and books. She understood better than most the comfort of those musty pages, but they could not hold a child after a nightmare, or feed a child, or sing them to sleep at night… no, books while comforting to the soul, did nothing for the body.

“You must be very smart then, Harry. I am pleased that you will be a friend for my son Draco. I believe that your continued acquaintance will be beneficial to both of you. He will be able to each you about our world and you will be able to teach him about yours, so neither is ignorant of the other.” Narcissa was leading him to a point, a place where she could ask him what he knew about magic but she knew if she simply asked the question he would not answer, the muggles had ensured that.

“I enjoy your sons company. I look forward to getting to know him better. Will he be attending school in the fall? I received a letter from a school called ‘Hogwarts’ but I have not sent a letter in return with my intentions.”  Harry seemed once again confused, but Narcissa was too much of a Slytherin to let the opportunity pass her by.

“Draco will be attending Hogwarts in the fall. I hope that you will be as well.” She was almost ready to spring her question on him.

“I would like to. I will have to speak to the Headmaster about the tuition…” Harry trailed off. Narcissa could see his internal struggle.

“Harry that will be entirely unnecessary. Your parents where rather wealthy and when they died your father’s title and their wealth passed on to you. They both attended Hogwarts for their education as well. Your father is a descendant of the Potter family, one of the oldest families in the magical world and your mother was a muggle born, meaning she came to Hogwarts very much the same way you will.” Narcissa barely restrained the smirk that wanted to curl her lips.

“What do you mean, Ma’am?” Harry’s eye were bright with keen intelligence and a certain something that looked to Narcissa like judgment, as though he was weighting her, testing her character before showing his hand.

“She had read many books about magic, but as for a true understanding of it… that must be gained through the practice and cannot be attained through reading.” Narcissa was ready to move forward when a half whispered statement broke her train of thought.

“What makes you so sure that I do not have a ‘true understanding’ of magic?” His eyes locked on hers.

“Harry?” Her voice was soft and comforting while inside her mind was a riot of ideas and possibilities.

There was a strained silence in the Kitchen for a moment. Narcissa held out, not speaking a word, waiting for Harry to break first. With a heavy sigh, he did.

“I’ve always known about magic. I have always been able to feel it around me. At first I didn’t know what to call it. I didn’t know if it was real or if I’d made it up, but things started happening and I knew that I was different from other people. “Harry looked away from her and back to the table.

Narcissa’s heart was slamming about wildly in her chest.

“What kind of things Harry?” There was no tremor in her voice to betray her curiosity or internal chaos.

“I was running from my cousin Dudley once and I ended up on the roof of the school, it feel like I’d been pulled up there, like water through a straw.”

Apparation…Narcissa thought to herself. She had never heard of a child apparating being part of their accidental magic.

“My teacher was yelling at me for ‘cheating’ on a test, which I would never do, but she was incredibly angry that I had received such a high score on this test and none of the others before it… her hair turned blue.” That was more like the accidental magic that Draco had performed but it was still interesting.

“Then there was the time I went to the Zoo with the Dursley’s for Dudley’s birthday. I’m not entirely sure how it happened but I ended up talking to a snake and the snake talked back. It was rather incredible, until my cousin’s friend Pier’s saw and from there it was nothing but a mess.” Narcissa froze. In fact, she wasn’t even sure that she was breathing… even her brain had ceased to function… Harry Potter is a Parselmouth… It echoed in and out of her gray matter filling every corner with its ramifications.

She was so caught up in her contemplations she almost didn’t notice that Harry had started speaking once more.

“Even when those things weren’t happening, I could feel the magic all around me. It helped me heal when I was sick or hurt. It kept me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It has always been there, I can see it around some people, like a light that lays just around the frame of their bodies. Severus’ light is gray around the edges and pure light as it reaches closer to his body, yours is very much the same. Draco’s light is blinding, all white from where it begins to where it ends. That’s why the letters didn’t startle me overmuch; I knew that magic was real. I’ve always know it was real.”