Draco’s eyes flew open and he drew in a deep, sharp breath as the flood of memories stopped, leaving behind swirling emotions. He gazed around, finding himself in the core with the blue veins pulsing. He looked at the sword in his hand, overwhelmed at his success and experience before moving his eyes to the upturned face of Hogwarts.

She had been right after all.

He was everything he’d been told he would never be.

He moved to the back left where the blue veins kept glowing and dimming. The eagle and its podium were set up just like the one in the mausoleum, the wings curled and seeming to hold the slab. The sword vibrated with anxious power and he carefully laid the sword on the stone. The sapphire in the room glowed brightly and the blue gem on Hogwarts’ necklace illuminated, glittering happily with the yellow and red ones. The dull green one now stood out sharply against the gleam of the others. The air around him pulsed with magic and a tingle encircled his arm. He rolled up his sleeve to the elbow to reveal a blue strip had joined the black, silver, and gold bands, this one below the others on his forearm away from his elbow. He couldn’t help but think his arm seemed to be missing bands and wondered if they would get the colours of all the Houses at some point.

He looked away from his arm and up at each Founder as they began to speak.

“Champion of Ravenclaw,” Ravenclaw said.

“And Hero of Hogwarts,” Gryffindor said.

“You have proven yourself,” Hufflepuff said.

“Hogwarts thanks you,” Slytherin said.

“Thank you,” Draco said quietly and they all smiled gently at him.

“They are waiting for you,” Ravenclaw said.

Draco spun and hurried out of the core, climbing the ladder as quickly as possible. He could hear voices as he got to the top and approached the open mouth of Slytherin quietly, wanting to look and listen. As his eyes fell on Severus and Harry, he was nearly sent to his knees at the force of emotion that washed over him. Harry was lying flat on his back on the floor while Severus stood next to him, arms crossed over his chest, both facing away from Slytherin’s statue.

This was his family. They’d saved him and they’d been stolen from him. Then, all these weeks, they had both remembered, but he didn’t and they had to live like that. How had they done it?

“What if something’s happened?” Harry said, staring up at the ceiling.

“Have you so little faith in your brother?” Severus said, looking down at the Gryffindor.

“Of course not!” Harry said as though insulted. “Dumbledore, however. What if he knows more than we think and he’s gone to stop Draco or something?”

“Even if that is the case, which I highly doubt, I am unsure what laying down there moping is meant to achieve,” Severus said and Draco grinned at the comment, realizing how much he had missed that sarcasm.

“I’m not moping. I’m brooding and worrying,” Harry said. “Surely you recognize it given it’s your constant state of being.”

Draco had to hold back a laugh. He couldn’t see, but he could imagine the withering glare on Severus’ face. He watched as Severus just nudged Harry in the ribs with his shoe, making Harry flinch away.

“Rude,” Harry muttered, lacking any meaning.

“Brat,” Severus quipped back and Draco smiled at the fondness evident in the single word.

Deciding he couldn’t keep away any longer, Draco left the statue and crossed the water, stopping on the other side.

“Harry?” he said. “Dad?”

He winced at their sharp movements. Severus’ head spun around to look over a shoulder while Harry craned his backwards, the top of his head pressed to the stone. A second of stunned silence passed before Severus turned fully and Harry scrambled to his feet.

“You…you did it?” Harry said, almost wary. “You remember?”

Draco nodded and Harry rushed at him, slamming into his chest as he wrapped Draco in a crushing hug. Draco returned the hug with just as much force, eyes closing against the threatening tears. A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked at Severus. He pulled away from Harry and wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist, burying his face in the man’s chest. Severus held him tight, one arm around Draco’s shoulders and the other hand in his hair while lips pressed against the top of his head.

He could have had this for the last six years if not for Dumbledore. It was astonishing how much he’d missed something he hadn’t even remembered until now.

“So, a safe assumption that you got Ravenclaw’s sword?” Harry said.

Draco finally extracted himself from Severus and looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. “So, the penchant for stating the obvious was not a fabrication of Dumbledore’s.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Or yours for being a prat.”

“Boys,” Severus said.

Draco and Harry grinned at each other.

“So, now that I remember and we’re down to just one sword left, what the hell happened to you?” Draco said, gesturing at the bandages and bruising covering his brother.

“So, Dumbledore knows?” Draco said as Harry finished his account of the last several days.

The three of them had settled in the Founders’ Library, sat close together on a sofa. Draco was curled up against Severus’ side, the man’s arm around his shoulders and back. Harry was leaning against the sofa arm, his legs bent with his toes under Severus’ leg. He’d received a half-hearted scowl and swat to his shin as he’d forced his toes under his father, doing nothing but make him laugh. Once settled, Severus had pulled the blanket from the night they’d made the potion from the back of the sofa and draped it over Harry’s legs. It had been a few days since the cave and he was healing, but recovery was slow and Harry found himself frequently chilled as though he was still in the cave and its icy water.

“He knows that I know,” Harry said. “It doesn’t seem like he knows about anyone else being involved.”

“So, what happens now?” Draco asked.

“Dumbledore’s telling the Order I was captured by Death Eaters and he’s going to set up the Order to be sacrificed in an effort to ‘rescue’ me,” Harry said. “I’m going to show myself before then, though, and prove Dumbledore lied.”

“Sow dissent in the Order,” Draco said and Harry nodded.

“Exactly,” Harry said. “We’re getting closer to the end. We need as many people on our side as possible.”

“One more sword,” Draco said.

“I have to deal with the hourglass first,” Harry said. “The sword will bring Tom here. We have to be ready for a battle when Tom gets his sword.”

“Hourglass?” Draco asked.

“Dumbledore has been gathering my, Harry’s, and Tom’s magic in an effort to replace Hogwarts’ magic,” Severus said.

“Bloody hell,” Draco said. “What about Dream Chasing? It can sever his connection to your marks.”

“Cutting him off from Dad will tip him off that others know, not just me,” Harry said. “I have to destroy the hourglass before that can happen.”

“We must break his connection to your scar,” Severus said. “There is no telling what he may do to you once he realizes you’ve taken the hourglass and when you reveal yourself to the Order.”

“Do we have time?” Harry said. “We might not be successful the first time we try.”

“We will make time,” Severus said firmly. “You will not put yourself at such risk.”

“Dad, we can’t wait,” Harry argued.

“This is not negotiable,” Severus said.

“Dad’s right, Harry,” Draco said. “Dumbledore will be furious and he’ll take it out on you. He could kill you. We know he’s willing.”

Harry sighed. “Fine. Dream Chasing, then the hourglass, then interrupt the rescue mission, then Tom gets Slytherin’s sword. We have to move fast.”

“Of course, but not at the expense of your life,” Severus said, placing a hand on Harry’s knee. “We must be smart about our actions from now on. I will not lose either of you again.”

Harry sighed again, holding back a huff at the manipulation. Severus had always been an expert at making them listen through his borderline emotional blackmail.

“Tomorrow then while it’s still Spring Break and you can disappear easier,” Harry said and Severus nodded. “We have three days until break ends. We have to have my scar dealt with by then so I can go after the hourglass.”

“How are you going to get it?” Draco asked. “Dumbledore is almost always in his office these days.”

“And I can’t use the griffin,” Harry said before turning to look at the large portrait where Slytherin was lounging after peeking in on Dumbledore to gauge the headmaster’s awareness of another sword retrieval. “Is there another way into the headmaster’s office?”

“There is,” Slytherin said. “It takes magic, however.”

“So, we have to do what we did with the Room of Requirement,” Harry said.

“Yes, though the impact should be less with the retrieval of three swords,” Slytherin said.

“The impact might work in my favour,” Harry said, making Draco and Severus look at him curiously. “If something happens in the castle, Dumbledore will investigate and I can get into the office. He wants to know how far I’ve gotten.”

“Won’t it make him realize you’re still alive and here?” Draco said.

“Draco is correct,” Severus said, “and if he knows you survived, the plan for the Order will no longer work.”

Harry chewed his lip, realizing his father was right. Getting ahead of Dumbledore relied on his survival remaining secret until he revealed himself to the Order. He dropped his eyes to his still bandaged arm where the skin had slid off in the Inferius’ grasp and tapped his fingers lightly on the bandages while he thought.

“We coordinate,” Harry said, forming a plan. “At the same time Dumbledore has the Order here, I use the magic to get into the office. When Dumbledore goes to investigate, the Order will go with him. I get the hourglass and then go to wherever they are to reveal myself. Maybe we can even get them in the Great Hall so students and staff hear me confront him too. Get even more on our side.”

“This passage will not take as much magic as the Room of Requirement did,” Slytherin said. “We can take magic from a certain area instead of the whole school.”

“What will he do then?” Draco asked, clearly concerned about the consequences of Harry’s plans.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, “but we have to be able to move fast after. We need to get the last sword as soon as possible, but only after I’ve destroyed the hourglass. They won’t be any good if Dumbledore can just drain our magic.”

“And we need a battle plan,” Severus said. “Like you said, the sword will bring Tom here and that will be the beginning of the final battle.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair in overwhelmed agitation. There was so much to figure out and so little time to not only figure it out in, but also execute it all. All the final steps had to happen close together if they were to succeed.

Severus squeezed his knee and he looked up at his father.

“One thing at a time, child,” Severus said gently.

Harry nodded. They were so close. They couldn’t fall apart now.

They had to win.

Harry paced anxiously, rubbing at the bandages on his neck and shoulder as Severus set up what they needed to attempt Dream Chasing. It wasn’t much, really just the potion, the book, and the sofa, but Severus was being meticulous while Harry stressed. He didn’t doubt Severus and his role in the process, but he did doubt himself and worried if Dumbledore would become aware of him messing with his scar. Everything they did was even more of a risk than before. Anything could undo all they’d accomplished and lead to their deaths.

“Harry, I will tie you down if you do not calm down and stop pacing,” Severus said, giving Harry a look of exasperation complete with a raised eyebrow.

Harry stopped and looked at his father almost owlishly, earning an amused snort from the man that made Harry flush. Severus held out a hand which Harry took, allowing himself to be tugged over to his father and pushed onto the sofa. Severus sat in front of him on the finally cleared coffee table, next to the potion and text. They were both quiet for a time as Severus took the time to lift Harry’s bandages, checking the slowly healing claw wounds, replacing them just seconds later.

“Now,” Severus said, leaning his arms on his knees and clasping his hands, “talk to me.”

Harry sighed, slumping back on the sofa. “I’m just worried. What if Dumbledore can tell we’re messing with my scar? What if this doesn’t work or I’m not able to do it? What if I can’t get the hourglass or to the Order or find the last sword? What if I can’t do any of it?”

Severus frowned at him. “Where is all of this doubt coming from?”

Harry dropped his eyes to his bandaged arm, his fingers dancing over the white material as he remembered. The monologue while he was held down and force-fed a torturous potion before being left to the Inferi echoed in his head, pain whispering across his body at the words and wounds.

“He said I was nothing without him and I know what you’re going to say, but just…listen, please,” he said, looking up at Severus who was very clearly going to protest, but held back and nodded at Harry’s request. “He’s…he’s not…wrong. He has controlled every second of my life, even before I was born. Everything I am is what he made me into for this game. I don’t know who or what I am without him and what he’s made me into. I might actually be nothing without him and the game.”

They were quiet for a time as Harry continued to tap his wrapped arm and watched Severus while the man seemed to study him. He was slightly uncomfortable under his father’s scrutiny, but more so under the weight of his admission. Eventually, his father spoke.

“Let me ask you a question,” Severus said and Harry looked at him curiously. “For the moment, forget all this business with the Mind Magic and go back to when that reality was all you knew. If you could do all these years over again, would you still make the same choices?”

Harry frowned at him, unsure he understood.

“Would you still have become friends with Weasley and Granger? Would you still have done all you did to help and protect the school and students and your friends? Would you still want to be a Gryffindor?”

Harry took a moment to think, considering his life at Hogwarts. It didn’t take long to decide and he nodded at Severus.

“Because this is who you are, with or without Albus Dumbledore. The things you have been through may have been fabricated and you were manipulated into many situations, but you still made choices on what to do based on your own beliefs and skills,” Severus said. “He did not create your bravery or your loyalty or your intelligence or your skill, and certainly not your heart. He created your circumstances, but he did not create you. You are you, and every bit that makes you who you are is unabashedly and unequivocally Harry. None of you could be manufactured and who you are is who you were always going to become, and who you are is nothing short of spectacular.”

Harry couldn’t help the way his eyes teared at the conviction and pure love in Severus’ words. It was truly impossible to not believe the man when he spoke in such a way and said such things. He shifted to the edge of the sofa and, removing his dancing fingers from his bandages, wound his arm around Severus’ neck. Severus’ arms immediately held him back and close.

“You are so much more than what he believes, child,” Severus whispered into his ear, “and you will only continue to grow in remarkable ways.”

A couple of tears fell and Harry buried his face in the crook of his father’s neck. “I love you, Dad.”

A kiss was pressed to his hair. “And I you, child, so very much.”

Harry held onto his father for a few moments longer before pulling away. He forced himself to repeat Severus’ words rather than Dumbledore’s. Severus’ arms fell away, hands coming to rest on Harry’s knees.

“Now, are you ready?” Severus asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do this.”

Severus nodded once and turned to the book beside him on the coffee table. Harry watched him read and ensure he knew exactly what to do before picking up the potion and holding it to Harry.

Harry took the vial and considered the contents. “What’s going to happen exactly?”

“The potion will put you into an unconscious state, not quite sleeping, but not awake,” Severus said. “Once you are unconscious, I will perform the spell which will put you into your unconscious mind, able to see such subconscious thoughts, feeling, and magic. Together, we will find your scar and work to unravel it from your mind and magic. We have one hour and twenty-four hours must pass before a second attempt can be attempted if it is needed.”

Harry tapped the vial with his nail and blew out a deep, anxious breath. The actual process of finding and dealing with his scar was unclear, forcing them to wing that section of the plan. Resolving himself to the necessity of the entire process, Harry took a deep breath and threw back the potion.

Severus took the vial from him and guided him to lay across the sofa. He got comfortable and looked up at his father, feeling his mind quickly become almost floaty.

“Just relax and let go,” Severus said quietly. “I am here with you.”

Harry tried to nod, but found his eyes fluttering. It was a strange feeling, not quite like falling asleep, but rather like he was sinking. As Severus said, he just let it happen and let himself fall.

When he stopped sinking and his awareness returned, Harry found himself in a white space with sparks of colour flashing and zipping around. He looked around, feeling odd, almost like the air around him was fuzzy. It was a strange feeling being inside himself, but nowhere at the same time.

“Harry?”

Severus’ voice echoed around him as though bouncing off the walls of a cave in which he stood. Harry’s eyes darted around, expecting to see his father somewhere, but ultimately not.

“I hear you, but I don’t see you,” Harry said.

“This does not allow us to see each other. I have…impressions of what you are seeing and experiencing. It is difficult to explain,” Severus said.

“Right. Suppose it doesn’t matter,” Harry said.

“Indeed. We must hurry. Tell me what you are seeing,” Severus said.

Harry spun around and looked. “Lots of lights flashing and flying around like fireworks or spells.”

“Those are the memories and emotions and parts of yourself that have been hidden from you or buried deep so you don’t have to face them.”

Harry blew out a breath, watching the colours explode around him. “A lovely introspective journey then. Like bloody Occlumency all over again.”

His father’s laughter rumbled around him.

“Okay, so what do I do?”

“You have to find the path to your scar and follow it.”

“How do I do that?”

“Focus on your scar and how it makes you feel. It should help you find the correct light and path,” Severus explained.

“Like the pain it causes?” Harry asked, watching as a variety of sparkly threads zipped around him in a bunch.

“Yes, that will likely bring you in the correct direction,” Severus said and Harry sighed.

It always came back to his life of pain, didn’t it?

He made himself think about all that pain, meaning to focus on just his scar, but quickly getting overwhelmed by all the pain he’d been subjected to. He watched the lights, trying to see if anything was changing, only to feel a kind of ripple to his right. There were no light explosions, but there was a kind of pulse pulling at him.

“Harry?”

“I feel something, like a…a pulsing or a heartbeat,” Harry said. “No lights though.”

“Go to it,” Severus said. “You’ll find the path.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, or he thought he did—was it possible in this unconscious place?—and headed towards the rippling of his unconscious. The heartbeat-like feeling increased as he approached, seeming to grow stronger and faster. He winced as it began to feel like a pulsing pressure all around him, trying to suffocate him, but pushed forward. A few seconds later, feeling like he was actually going to suffocate, it was like he stepped into another room, this one filled with extraordinarily bright lights that hovered and pulsed in the white space. There were several light bursts, dozens, but there were three in particular that were huge and static, not moving or disappearing and reappearing. They were constant and filled him with dread.

“I am seeing impressions that you are close,” Severus said.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry said. “I don’t know which one is my scar.”

“You will know if you allow yourself to acknowledge it,” Severus said and Harry sighed yet again.

He was still struggling to focus specifically on his scar, causing each of the three paths to pulse simultaneously. Realizing he would just have to take a chance, he approached one, the black one, and focused on it. The closer he got, the more he felt pricks of pain all over his body. He winced at the pains, but reached out and let his fingertips brush the black light. It pulsed and almost exploded, a kind of glittery tail suddenly leading away into the white nothing. Frowning, he touched the black ball again and felt himself get pulled, the pain across his body growing until he wanted to cry out as he flew away into seemingly nothing.

It stopped, the pull and the pain, a few moments later when he found himself in a pitch-black space. He gazed around, spotting a tiny sliver of light streaking across a tiny, curled up figure. He walked over, finding the figure to be a little boy of maybe five with his knees pulled to his chest, arms around them and face buried in his knees. Once he was near, the boy’s head lifted and he realized he was looking at himself.

His own green eyes gazed up at him, alight with all the wrong emotions for a five-year-old.

“Are you here to help me?” the five-year-old him asked in a small voice.

Harry felt the hard tug at his heart. He knew what this was. It was the little boy that existed inside of him, just waiting for the pain to go away. He’d shoved that little boy aside, unable to accept he’d never been a true child and the pain would never stop. Looking into the green eyes, he crouched down in front of the child.

“No,” he said quietly, gently. “No, help isn’t going to come for a very long time, but it will.”

Child-Harry’s eyes shined with sad tears and Harry wondered how often he’d looked like that. He gazed at himself sadly.

“How do you know?” Child-Harry asked.

“Because I went through the same kind of thing as you and I got help one day,” Harry said. “I know how you’re feeling.”

Child-Harry looked at him with hesitant curiosity. “Were you scared?”

Harry gave a partial, sympathetic smile and nodded. “Yeah, I was really scared and lonely and hurt. I still am sometimes, but you know what?”

Child-Harry shook his head.

“It’s okay to feel those things.”

Child-Harry blinked at him innocently at what, to him, was a grand revelation. “It is?”

Harry bit back tears at the child he’d been and the child he’d never been allowed to be. “Mhm,” he hummed, nodding again and needing a second before speaking so his voice didn’t crack. “You’ll get help from people who make you feel better, but they’ll also tell you it’s okay when you don’t feel better. You’re allowed to be scared and lonely and hurt because they’ll be there until you feel better again.”

“They take care of you?” Child-Harry asked and Harry couldn’t stop the tear that fell because that was all he’d ever wanted: to be taken care of.

He thought of Severus and Draco and his friends. He even thought of Tom and Kingsley, and he gave a small smile.

“Yeah, they do,” Harry said. “They let you be just the way you are because you are perfect to them just like that.”

Child-Harry blinked at him almost in awe. “Not a freak?”

Harry let his eyes shut briefly, tears pouring out against his will. His heart pounded painfully. He gazed at himself through his tears.

“No, never again with them,” he said, “and you know the best part? You’ll be able to help them, too, because they make you strong.”

Child-Harry’s look was definitely one of awe and wonder that time, making even more tears fall. “I can be strong?”

Such amazement in the little voice.

Harry smiled at himself again. “Stronger than you ever thought possible,” he said. “You’ll be okay, I promise, you just have to hold on. Can you do that?”

Child-Harry gave a small, but determined nod. “I think so.”

“It’ll be hard, but you can do it,” Harry said. “Remember what I told you?”

“Help will come, I’ll be strong, and it’s okay to be who I am,” Child-Harry said.

“Exactly,” Harry said. “I have to go now. You’ll be okay.”

Child-Harry nodded and gave his first smile. “I’ll be okay.”

Harry stood only to find himself pulled away immediately, back in the space with the three large paths. Only, the black one had shrunk and was periodically blinking away.

“Harry!”

Harry jumped at Severus’ frantic shout. “Dad, I’m here, I’m fine.”

“What is going on?” Severus asked. “You are crying. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay,” Harry said. “Just finding parts of myself I wasn’t expecting.”

“Do you need to stop?”

“No, it’s fine, promise,” Harry said. “It’s my unconscious, all the deep, dark parts, right? Never thought it would be easy.”

“If you’re sure,” Severus said.

“I am,” Harry said and looked at the other two paths.

Red and blue.

He took a deep breath and reached out again.