Time passes in its own way…

Dark arms embraced him as he tried to pull himself backward, away from the cold screaming laughter, and the heat that was smashing against his chest. Severus couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t need to breathe. Not anymore. Harry was inside him, moving his chest up and down in a slow, quiet rhythm.

“It’s all right, Dad,” Harry assured him. “I’m here.”

And somehow he was.

The jagged rip in his wall of fire was filled now, taken up by Harry’s comforting wisp. Just as it should be. Severus was whole again. Harry was all right.

“I didn’t need Sirius.” Harry was smiling at him, gently chiding him for thinking that Black, of all people, was necessary to him somehow.

“Are you all right, Harry?” Severus asked gently, pulling Harry closer so that he could inspect him, to make sure that Voldemort hadn’t done anything to harm his son.

“Of course, I am. Voldemort isn’t anything in here,” Harry told him. “He’s nothing anymore.”

“He was keeping you here?” Severus asked, his fingers clamping tighter against his son’s shoulders. Harry seemed all right.

“I was waiting for you,” Harry explained with a small shake of his dark head. “Remus came as well?” he asked, looking around behind Severus. Severus nodded, even as Remus moved to stand beside him. Harry smiled at him.

“We were so worried about you, Harry,” Remus said with a gentle smile.

“I’m all right,” Harry repeated. He looked between Severus and Remus. “I’m ready to go home now,” he told them, his emerald eyes filled with eagerness. Severus nodded quickly.

“Of course, Harry,” he agreed. Harry smiled again. Severus, his heart filled with love for his son, pulled Harry to him. Harry wrapped his arms around him, squeezing tightly. Severus returned the embrace solidly, while Remus remained beside him, still smiling.

--

Sirius’ eyes widened as Harry came through the darkened mist.

Harry.

“Sirius,” Harry breathed just as Remus had when they'd first met in his space, and then Harry was rushing toward him. Sirius stumbled backward as he caught his godson in his arms.

“Harry,” Sirius crowed as he pulled Harry in closer. Harry squeezed him tightly, and Sirius hoped he would never let go. All the emptiness and the bleak non-time he’d spent here was washed away. “Are you all right?” he asked quickly, pulling Harry back a little to study his face. Harry grinned up at him.

“I’m brilliant, Sirius!” he enthused. “I found you and now I can come live with you, just like we planned.”

Sirius stared at Harry in confusion. Harry nodded eagerly.

“You can come with us, Sirius. I know you can. And now that’s Voldemort’s gone, Wormtail has been found out. You’re free, Sirius!” he said excitedly. Sirius could only stare, not daring to believe that what Harry was saying was true. But then Remus was stepping over to them. Harry threw his arms around Remus, who looked happier than Sirius had ever seen him.

“It’s true, Padfoot,” he agreed over Harry’s shoulder. “Dumbledore designed it so you could come back. And now that we have Harry, everything’s okay now.”

Harry pulled himself away from Remus and the two of them, his best friend and his godson stood in front of him, their happiness overwhelming. He was free. And Harry was his again.

--

Remus watched helplessly as Tonks faded away from him. He could do nothing as he lay there sprawled on his back. At least he thought he was on his back. He seemed to be staring upward. But he was surrounded on all sides by black, making it very difficult to be certain. He could just make out Severus, just beyond his reach. Sirius was a little farther away, and he was lying, curled on his side, looking as though he was in a great deal of pain.

Remus tried to call out to both of them, but his throat was too dry. And then the emptiness was filled with laughter so chilling that the hairs along the curve of Remus’ neck erected themselves frantically. But the cruel humor was taken over by the screams that Remus knew instantly belonged to Harry. And Remus could picture him writhing in agony, just as he had in his bed only hours before. Remus scrambled as quickly as he could back to his feet, but even when he knew he must be upright again, he felt completely disoriented.

He pushed the dizziness aside, turning to Severus, who was standing as well, his hand already on his wand. Remus was surprised to find his wand in his hand as well. Reflexes.

“Harry?” Sirius was questioning in panic, his own wand drawn and pointing toward the horrible sounds. Severus stood, fear and anger making his fingers tremble. Remus went to stand between his two friends. They closed the distance so that they were shoulder to shoulder, facing off the evil that was swooping closer.

The sound was growing louder, but the laughter was winning now. The trio leveled their wands in the air. The darkness was shifting; the patterns of light swirling grey and purple in front of them. Just as it had when the mists had released Sirius.

Again a body seemed to be forming in the stillness.

Harry. And he was the one who was laughing. His head thrown back, his face split in a grin of pure happiness.

“Harry?” Severus questioned tentatively as Harry seemed to solidify. Though it seemed impossible, Harry’s face filled with joy. And then he was rushing forward, flinging himself at Severus. Severus, his own features slacking in relief, pulled Harry toward him, gripping him tightly. “Harry,” he breathed and Remus thought he saw a quick smile grace Severus’ lips.

“Dad,” Harry greeted into Severus’ shoulder, and Remus tensed. He could feel Sirius’s body flinch beside his.

“Dad?” he repeated, sounding strangled. Harry, who obviously hadn’t noticed Sirius, pulled back abruptly from Severus’ arms. Now it was Severus’ who went rigid. But Harry, his lips once again pulling into a huge grin, could only stare at Sirius.

“Sirius,” he said, sounding numb and elated, all in the same breath. And then seeing the look of shock on Sirius’ face, he looked uncertainly at Severus, and then back again at his godfather. “He’s my father. We found out a few months ago,” he explained. Sirius continued to stare at Harry. Then his eyes narrowed and he turned to glare at Severus. Severus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry stepped closer to Severus with a small smile. “Is that all right with you, Sirius?” he asked, sounding very worried. “I still need you as my godfather, just as I always did.”

Sirius looked back and forth between the Snapes. “Does he treat you well, Harry?” he asked grimly. Harry nodded hastily. Sirius nodded and then pierced Severus with a look that should have shriveled the other man. “See that you always do, Snape, or you’ll answer to me,” he warned, though there seemed to be a gentle smile behind Sirius’ grey eyes as he noted how happy Harry seemed.

Severus nodded without hesitation. “I understand, Black. You have nothing to fear. And I will not attempt to keep Harry from seeing you.”

Sirius did smile now, and with that small gesture, Harry threw himself at Sirius. Sirius laughed happily and returned the embrace. And though Severus didn’t smile, he watched the pair in satisfaction.

“We will take you home now, Harry,” he said after a moment. Sirius and Harry grinned, before turning to Remus.

“Isn’t this wonderful, Remus?” Sirius demanded cheerfully, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Remus said nothing as he stared at the three men he cared so much about. At Severus, nearly smiling at Sirius and Harry, arm in arm. At Sirius, grinning in acceptance of what should have been devastating news. And Remus stared at Harry, who shouldn’t have been here at all. He couldn’t be here.

And feeling his breath freezing in his chest, Remus shook his head rapidly.

“What’s wrong, Moony?”

Sirius’ grin was faltering as he cocked his head. Remus took a step back, not moving at all from the artificial happiness in front of him. Harry was staring at him, in bewildered betrayal.

“It’s okay, Remus,” he assured him. “You heard Sirius. He’s happy for me.”

Sirius nodded in fervent agreement. “I understand that you didn’t know how I’d take the news, Remus. I forgive you.”

Remus shook his head, feeling wildly anxious as Severus took a step toward him. “Harry forgives you as well, Remus,” he said with a gentle nod.

“Harry’s not here,” Remus tried to tell him, wanting Severus to understand that this was a trick. That Harry had to be trapped with Voldemort, but Severus shook his head.

“Harry is here. We are all happy,” he insisted, his voice hardening a little. A strange gleam began to shine in his black eyes when Remus kept pedaling his feet backward.

“We are taking Harry home,” Sirius told him, his jaw clenching around the hopeful words.

“All of us are going. Everyone is together now,” Harry agreed, his steps fluid and graceful as he walked with Severus and Sirius flanking him. “Come with us, Remus,” Harry commanded, the words almost a hiss. Remus shivered.

“No,” he refused. “You aren’t Harry.”

Faux-Harry smiled; his lips were much too thin. “Oh, but I am,” he cajoled. “Can’t you recognize me, Remus?” he asked, with wide green eyes. “Don’t you see how you’ve failed me? You drove me to Voldemort, Remus,” he lamented. His eyes were glistening with tears now.

“No! I didn’t,” Remus denied desperately. He couldn’t let Harry believe that he hated him. He looked wildly at the three men, all of them nodding in horrid contentment.

“You can save him, Remus. Take him home,” Sirius whispered.

“You owe it to him,” Severus chimed in, standing so close to Sirius that Remus began to sway.

This wasn’t real.

“No,” he said quietly. He forced his fear to shift to strength. “You aren’t here,” he told them. “None of you are real.”

All three faces twisted with ugly, malicious hatred. The look on Harry’s gentle features made Remus’ stomach turn in revulsion, but he didn’t give, even as the faux-Harry stepped so close, Remus could feel his icy breath against his cheeks.

“It’s me,” the traitor shouted. “Take me home!” he demanded, shoving his face into Remus’.

Remus didn’t blink. Didn’t allow himself to so much as breathe crookedly. He held the darkening gaze—the emerald was turning muddy as he watched. “No,” Remus repeated as blood crept into the eyes. “You aren’t here.” Over and over Remus said the words, until eventually he had to close his eyes as the masks of the three, morphed and melted into a face so hideous that Remus couldn’t stand to see it.

“Take me home!” the snake-Harry screeched maniacally. Remus opened his eyes again. The eyes were slits of red now.

“You aren’t Harry,” he said. Rage filled the snake’s face and he began to scream. The scream became tangible…a vapor roiling and twisting from the lipless maw. And then the face was pure mist, dissipating into blank nothingness.

And Remus was staring up at black again.

His chest was rising and falling in gentle, careful rhythms. With silent alarms warning him, Remus sat up so fast, he felt suddenly lightheaded. Severus was still there, sitting only an arms’ length from him. He looked absolutely peaceful, staring in unblinking bliss at nothing. Remus swung his head around to search for Sirius.

He was still there as well. Remus had never seen his friend looking so happy. He was on his back, still out of Remus’ reach, staring in the same way as Severus. Remus stood slowly, carefully studying each movement, trying to assure himself that they were his own. Nobody owned these movements.

He knelt in front of Severus, bringing his hands slowly to rest on his shoulders. Hesitantly, but knowing he needed to do this quickly, Remus gave Severus’ a sharp shake. Severus’ head waggled with the movement, but the peace did not break.

“Severus,” he urged, “it isn’t real. Harry isn’t there with you.”

He made his fingers dig deeper into Severus’ shoulders as he lost any desire he had to be gentle. Another sharp jostle. Severus’ mind stayed firmly fixed with his son. Cursing himself for never taking the time to learn Legilimency, Remus had to take the only other course that he could. Pulling his arm back, he cocked it and after only the shortest of hesitations, Remus palm cracked across Severus’ pale cheek. Severus’ face rocked with the impact, but nothing changed.

Remus sat in dejection on his heels as he stared at his friend. At Harry’s father. And he suddenly felt very cold. He could guess what Severus was experiencing in his zombie-like bliss. The messages that were being transferred to him, would be almost impossible to combat. And it would be cruel to try.

Hating himself, Remus dug his fingernails into his palms. “Harry doesn’t want you, Severus.” Remus swallowed so loudly, it rattled against the black silence. The dazed expression on Severus’ face didn’t change at all. Remus leaned in toward him, his fingernails pressed into his own flesh enough that they could draw blood. “Severus,” he said, much louder now, “Harry doesn’t want to come home. You failed him.”

Severus’ features remained fixed, but there was a flash of understanding in the obsidian eyes. Remus nodded pointedly, pitching his voice so that it echoed in the cavernous hole. “He believes that you hate him, because you sent him away, Severus,” Remus pressed, despising the cruelty in his voice. But he thought he detected a faint twitch around Severus’ mouth. The glaze was turning cold, so Remus made himself forge onward.

“You don’t deserve him.”

--

Harry’s eyes were filled with hatred, the emerald so charred that it was unrecognizable.

“Forgive me, Harry,” Severus begged without shame, not even caring that Remus was sneering at him in disdain.

“You don’t deserve him,” Remus snarled, his teeth bared to attack. Severus took a step toward his son.

“Harry,” he pleaded, his arms outstretched as he implored in undignified desperation. But Harry lifted his chin, and with his face filled with disgust, he stepped away.

He went to stand beside Black.

“I should never have forgiven you,” Harry spat. “You don’t deserve to be forgiven,” he agreed derisively with Remus, shaking his head. Black put his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Harry doesn’t need you, Snivellus,” he said with jarring finality.

“No,” Severus whispered. But they ignored him. Harry ignored him.

Harry turned away, flanked by his godfather and his friend, leaving Severus alone in the darkness.

“Harry,” he cried out, his voice strangled and damp. He wanted to run after them. He needed to explain, to beg if he had to. But he couldn’t move. Vices ensnared his wrists, and he couldn’t get away, no matter how hard he thrashed. There was nothing there. Only black.

“Severus,” a familiar voice tried to soothe, him but Severus turned his head away from the comfort. There was nothing without Harry. He’d lost everything. But the voice wouldn’t relent. “Severus,” it tried again, “It’s Remus. Harry isn’t here. It was Voldemort.”

Voldemort.

Forcing the icy tendrils away from his storm, Severus tried to focus on the name. Voldemort had been here? Not Harry? He repeated the refrain.

Not Harry. Voldemort.

“Harry still needs you, Severus. We need to find him,” Remus was telling him. “Voldemort is trying to keep you away,” he continued, and Severus’ storm roared.

“Harry,” he gasped, and this time the name brought a spark of hope to Severus’ chest, and his vision seemed to be clearing. The blackness divided into colors and shapes. A face. Remus was staring at him, and Severus realized the vices were simply Remus’ fingers. Drawing in a deep breath, Severus shook against the restraints.

With a sigh of relief, Remus loosed his hold. He leaned away so that Severus wouldn’t have to. “Are you all right?” Remus asked quickly, his face a discomfiting mixture of gratitude and regret.

“What happened?” Severus asked, ignoring the query, even as he moved to stand. He ignored Remus proffered hand as well. Remus took his elbow anyway as he wobbled and assisted until Severus was firmly upright again.

“Voldemort was sending messages to us, I believe. I believed, for a few minutes, that Harry was all right. He simply walked up to me, and wanted to go home,” Remus explained as he pulled his hand back.

Severus stared at him. The flooding pain was beginning to recede as reality pulled him to safety again. “I had a similar experience,” he admitted after a moment. Remus nodded, showing no surprise at all.

“I assumed you had,” he said softly, and then pointed to where Black was sprawled on his back, seemingly oblivious to the other two. “You looked like that,” Remus told him. He shifted uncomfortably, and Severus narrowed his eyes in sudden suspicion.

“What is it, Lupin?” he snapped. Remus pursed his lips, looking slightly irritated.

“I saw exactly what I wanted to see regarding Harry,” he said finally. “Did you?”

Severus nodded without explanation. He wouldn’t tell the other man how much pain he still felt at words that had not even been spoken. Remus was watching him, his eyes studying his slight movements.

“It was too easy,” he said carefully. “You and Sirius were with him and all of you reacted just as I wish you would, but I knew even as I watched the three of you, that it was impossible. I started arguing with the fake Harry and all three of you got very angry, insisting that they were real. That Harry wanted to go home. When I’d ignored them for long enough, I found myself here again,” he explained.

“And you did not wish to infer that I was weak because I could not see it as false?” Severus demanded, not understanding Remus’ look of regret. But Remus shook his head.

“…Severus…I told you that Harry didn’t want you. That you didn’t deserve him,” he said very quietly. “I didn't know how else to break you free from Voldemort's images. I’m sorry.”

Severus took an involuntary step backward. “That was you?” he demanded, but quickly straightened up and closed off his features as he heard the way his voice caught on the last word. Remus nodded, looking particularly miserable. Severus turned away, gesturing dismissively to Black, grateful for the distraction. “Do you intend to bring Black out of his vision as well?” he inquired, keeping his voice purposely harsh. He heard Remus sigh behind him.

“Severus,” he said quietly, “Sirius isn’t a threat to you.”

Severus didn’t respond, and after a longer silence than Severus would have preferred, Remus came around to stand by his side, just as he had in his earlier vision. But this time they were both staring at Black.

“It might be easier to bring Sirius back with Legilimency,” Remus suggested. Severus glanced at him sharply. Remus met his gaze. “It was very difficult to make you believe that Harry wasn't really with you,” he explained. Severus glared at Remus for a few more seconds, before nodding curtly. He did not wish to linger here any longer than was necessary, and whether or not Black’s presence was required here, he knew Harry would not want him to left in this state.

Remus stepped back to give him room, and keeping Harry’s face firmly in the forefront of his mind, Severus knelt down beside Black. Speaking quietly so that his voice would remain smooth, Severus chanted the spell and found himself peering into Harry’s joyous face, with Black and Remus beside him. The three of them were loping along, presumably looking for the exit. Severus frowned at his own absence. Oddly though, he felt nothing as he looked at the eagerness in the faux-Harry’s face.

Keeping his shields out of curiosity’s way, Severus reached down into Black’s accessible thoughts. Overwhelming love spilled over him. Harry’s took up every crevice in Black’s mind. But there was also emptiness, and despair. The pain that he’d experienced when he’d lost his godson—again. The false flood of joy that Black had felt when Harry had found him in the emptiness…the same emotions that he’d experienced when he’d asked Harry to live with him so long ago now. And the part of Severus’ mind that he allowed to remain truthful ached for the other man’s pain. And for Harry’s as he finally began to understand what Black had meant to him. When Harry had been so alone.

And Severus knew that he would never try to take that away from Harry. No matter what it might mean for him.

Though it was more difficult than Severus would have believed, Severus latched onto Black’s happiness, amplifying it and sending parts of his conversation with Remus to Black, to make him understand that Harry still needed him, that he still remained Voldemort’s captive. Black’s happiness fought against the truth, but as Remus’ words repeated themselves over and over, the happiness slowly turned to anger for Harry’s plight.

Black was becoming aware again, his mind seeping out of the hole he had dipped himself into. Severus took himself out before Black could realize he was there. And then Severus found himself staring at Black as the other man struggled to sit up. Severus automatically reached a hand to assist, but he realized what he was doing just shy of actually touching Black’s arm. He pulled his hand back abruptly; Black didn’t seem to notice.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded as Remus bent down to pull him up. Uncertain whether or not Black was referring to his mental presence, or to his vision of Harry, Severus did not answer. Remus quickly explained Voldemort’s attempts to thwart their rescue of Harry.

“How did we get out of it?” Black asked as soon as Remus had finished. “It felt just as real as the other visions do.” Remus glanced between the other two men, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“After a few minutes, I could tell it wasn’t real…you…well you weren’t yourself, Sirius. It was a little more difficult for you and Severus,” he finally said with a shrug. Black squinted his eyes in confusion, but then shook his head, brushing aside any further explanations.

“Did you see something else before that?” he questioned, not looking at Severus. “Something that you want…that’s always what I see,” he said quietly. Remus nodded, glancing over at Severus, who gave a small nod of his own. But of course, none of them elaborated.

“Voldemort knows we’re here then,” Remus said for all of them.

“And this could still be his own imagination,” Black said quietly. Severus’ black eyes flicked sharply to the Marauder. Black gazed back at him, his eyes blinking rapidly, and Severus wondered if the part of his mind that had been touched by him, was struggling to make sense of what Black couldn’t really understand. “How well do you know Voldemort’s mind?” Black finally asked stiffly, looking as though he would rather be looking anywhere but at Severus.

“Sirius,” Remus chided quickly, but Severus held up a hand.

“Well enough,” he answered Black’s question without heat, and Remus’ mouth closed slowly. There was very little point in pretending that he had not been among Voldemort’s elite. “He will twist our minds until we can no longer be certain that we are who we believe ourselves to be,” he elaborated. Black swallowed, his face taking on an anxious hue. But the man was a Gryffindor, and whatever else Severus knew him to be, Black was not a coward.

“We have to make another attempt,” Black said, though he wasn’t speaking strictly to Severus alone anymore.

“The next assault will be more subtle,” Severus warned, glancing without meaning to at Remus. From the safety of his thoughts, with Voldemort’s trickery dormant for the moment, Severus could easily see how wrong his vision of Harry had been. Of how desperate the interaction had been. It would be harder to detect the next round. Even for Remus, who had obviously seen even more unbelievable scenarios than he had.

His discomfort reaching egregious levels, Severus closed his mind so that he would give nothing away and suggested slowly, “Voldemort’s task will be more difficult if I link our minds together.” Black stared at him in bewilderment. Remus’ eyebrows shot up along his hairline, but Severus shook his head. “It is a simple Spell, and temporary,” he explained, hoping Remus would understand that this would nothing like what he and Harry had shared. “I have used the spell before,” he said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. Both Remus and Black understood the vague declaration.

Black narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want to participate in a spell you’ve used to torture people in Voldemort’s name,” he said, accusation creeping into his tone.

“Lupin and I will do it alone, if you prefer,” Severus told him simply, not even bothering to garner Remus’ permission, or deny Black’s words. He didn’t owe him an explanation.

“Sirius, there are no other options. You were nearly lost to Voldemort’s manipulation,” Remus spoke up as he looked between them. It was obvious that Black wanted to protest, but Severus imagined that he was picturing Harry’s face again, and he didn’t argue further. He did, however, glance suspiciously at Severus.

“I will not enter your thoughts,” Severus told him curtly, before he could insult him with the question. Black nodded reluctantly, and with another firmer nod from Remus, Severus gestured the two men forward. Remus moved without hesitation. Black’s single step forward was much slower than Severus thought was possible. As soon as they were standing in front of him, Severus commanded with a familiar wave of his wand, “Nostrum sententia es unus.”

And immediately as though the three individual minds squeezed themselves together with a suctioned, pop, Severus could feel Remus and Black with him. But they were still fully aware, fully separate as well. The other two men were shaking their heads, looking just like animals attempting to dispel the last droplets of water from their fur.

“Shall we proceed?” Severus inquired as soon as they looked settled.

Two affirmatives met his ears, even as a chill settled over Severus. Severus erected his shields, using his flames to push the icy sensation away. The ice persisted. There was no warmth as there had been before. Harry didn’t reappear before him.

Severus was standing in a cave, the sheer cavern he’d seen in Harry’s mind. And Voldemort was smiling down at them, his lipless mouth stretched grotesquely. Severus’ heart froze with the icicles.

“Harry,” he and Black breathed together. Harry didn’t even twitch.

He lay at Voldemort’s yellowed feet, bound at wrists and ankles, his eyelids squeezed so tightly closed that it could only have been magic holding them together. Severus lurched toward him. He was flung back again, to crash into Remus, who steadied him even as he gasped at the sight before them.

“Ah, ah, ah, Severus,” Voldemort drawled, shaking his flaking head at him mockingly. “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed here. You must be dead to enter,” he explained, his red eyes full of feigned sadness.

“Let him go,” Black demanded furiously. Voldemort’s mouth widened further.

“Sirius Black,” he whispered quietly. “It’s such a pity that Harry can’t hear you. I am certain that he would have wanted to give you a proper greeting,” he said as he gestured to Harry’s lifeless form. “And,” he continued slowly, “he has so much to tell you.”

“You can’t keep him from us,” Black told the other. Voldemort appeared not to hear him.

“Did you know,” he went on in a conversational tone, “that my Severus is Harry’s father, Sirius?”