11. The Return
 

Severus guarded his arm tightly to him as he stoically made his way towards the front gates of the castle; the memory of Harry's worried green eyes haunted his every step.  Knowing the summons would direct him to the waiting Dark Lord, he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, walked beyond the wards and Apparated away from Hogwarts.

He arrived in the center of a large foyer in what was probably a manor. Noting the ample use of marble and intricate woodwork, it was apparent that this place had been a grand place in its day; but the current lack of repair and stagnant air spoke of dormancy, as though this building had stood empty for a long time. 

Severus was greeted, for lack of a better word, by Peter Pettigrew and was directed to his left where he quietly slipped through the doorway and entered a drawing room of vast proportions; it was empty save for a dais with an ornately carved gilded chair placed in its center upon which sat the Dark Lord. 

Amazingly, only a handful of other Death Eaters had already arrived; they were all on their knees with their heads bowed, facing in the direction of their Lord. Severus bowed deeply and then fell into ranks along with the others. When all had arrived, Voldemort stood to begin his address.

The speech was reminiscent of the one he had delivered at the graveyard in Little Hangleton two years previous. He offered no details about where he had been the past few months but he did share an overview of his current ambitions, after which he began holding private conversations with each of the higher ranking officers.

They were instructed to wait in the main drawing room until their mark burned, at which time they would report to the sitting room where these councils were being held. It was well past midnight; Severus had watched as all the others were summoned and was now the last one remaining. Finally, his mark burned.

Upon entering the room he glanced only high enough to get his bearings. 

"Come in Severus."

Keeping his head bowed and his Occlumency in high gear, Severus entered the room and sank to his knees before the Dark Lord.

"My Lord."

Severus was the epitome of supplication as he listened to Voldemort offer a few kind remarks and then request updates regarding the activities of the Order and of Dumbledore.

The spy had only tidbits of information to deliver, as things had been fairly quiet — up until the previous night with the bombing of the orphanage. He relayed how the Ministry had sent officials to investigate the scene but that they had found no evidence of Death Eater involvement and had determined that the collapse had been an unfortunate accident.

Severus, who was still staring at the carpet, could not see the Dark Lord’s reaction to any of this news.

"Very good,” Voldemort strolled about the room. “And now my dear Severus, tell me of … Harry Potter.

"I can report my Lord, that the boy has been recently experiencing magical surges."

Voldemort actually gasped. "He has? Very interesting … Very interesting indeed."

Severus heard the Dark Lord’s steps come nearer as he approached the dais.

"And what is Dumbledore doing about these … surges."

Having not heard the Dark Lord speak in many months, Severus took note of the manner in which he caressed each word, inflecting his voice up and down as he traveled across a sentence, always lingering upon any word that ended in an s.

Severus relayed the identity of one Channon Jackson and how Dumbledore had brought him to Hogwarts with the express purpose of working with Potter. He also added the fact that the Chosen One and the new professor had developed a friendship.

"Oh this is delicious. I knew I wanted you last, Severus. You are always the icing on my cake."

Voldemort then gave the potion master his assignment to start brewing fresh batches of potions, elixirs and draughts, and to immediately relay any and all occurrences of import having to do with Dumbledore, the Order and of course — Harry Potter. 

"Yes, my Lord."

"Speaking of whom, how has Harry's health been this year?"

"His health, my Lord?"

"Yes, his health."

It was times like this that Severus's quick mind was put to the test.  He knew the Dark Lord was fishing and that he had to deliver. The challenge was to provide just enough information to satisfy, but withhold that which could prove dangerous. He had to do all of this whilst he Occluded before one of, if not the most highly skilled Legilimens.

"Except for the times my Lord engages the boy; he is otherwise in good health."

"Tell me exactly what happens when I…engage him."

"He experiences headaches and discomfort around the area of his scar."

"Hmmm." 

Now Severus heard the rustle of robes as the Dark Lord resumed his seat.

"One more item before I dismiss you."

Severus waited in silence.

Will the school be holding their traditional Halloween feast this Saturday?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And Dumbledore will be there?"

"Yes, my Lord?" Severus's acknowledgement sounded more like a question.

"I must admit Severus, you are the last one this evening to receive my news. I am planning some exciting events to take place on Samhain."

Voldemort walked over to stand before the spy and placed one finger under Severus's chin, encouraging him to look up.

The Dark Lord spoke softly and slowly.

"I have a special task for you. Tell that old fool for me; tell him to post Aurors wherever he thinks I might strike. Also, tell him that I am planning a surprise ... just for him. Then, at the feast on Samhain, you will watch him so that you can later tell me of his reaction."

"His reaction to what, my Lord?"

"Oh but Severus, if I told you … it wouldn't be a surprise."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Harry sat in the windowsill by his bed, waiting and watching for Snape's return. Still at his post, he wound up falling asleep around two o'clock and woke up the next morning with an aching back. 

Severus had returned from his meeting with Voldemort relatively unscathed, all except for his sore knees, and immediately met with Dumbledore to relay the Dark Lord’s message. 

The old wizard knew immediately that his former pupil was toying with him, but what could he do other than to play along?

He contacted the Ministry and the Order, warning them that Voldemort was planning attacks on Samhain. Not knowing where he would strike, all that could be done was to have every Auror and member of the Order on alert, ready to respond at a moment's notice.  But Voldemort's talk of a surprise and his request that Severus watch Dumbledore had him puzzled.  

~~~~~SH~~~~~

On the eve of Halloween, Anthony was conducting his Prefect's rounds and had timed his route so that he could intercept Harry coming up from his Occlumency lesson. 

His friend had been quiet and pensive the last couple of days and Anthony was determined to find out what was wrong. 

Reaching the sixth floor, Harry had just made the turn to start up the next flight of stairs when Anthony stepped out from a nearby alcove, waving the young wizard over to him.

Surprised and delighted, Harry looked about to make certain no one was around and then hurried over to his boyfriend.

"Where did you come from?"

"I was just doing my rounds."

"But I thought Padma did rounds on Friday night," Harry said with a teasing lilt to his voice as he saddled up close and began to kiss Anthony all along his jaw line.

"I traded with her," he said distractedly. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Forget talking … this is much better," Harry whispered and then began kissing along the contours of Anthony's ear.

"Harry, stop doing..."  

His sentence trailed off when Harry reached little soft spot of skin, right behind Anthony's left ear. 

Anthony determinately yet gently pushed Harry away; his face came into view with a crestfallen expression upon it. 

"God, you're cute."

"So kiss me."

"No." Anthony did however give Harry one quick kiss of apology. "I want you to tell me why you've been so down the last couple of days."

Talk about ruining the mood — Harry's whole being seemed to sink in an instant and he stepped over to lean against the wall. "It's because of tomorrow," he said whilst looking down at his shoes.

Anthony cupped Harry's chin, trying to get him to look up at him. "So, what's happening tomorrow?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Anthony," he said in a drawn out voice. "Tomorrow is Samhain; it's the day Voldemort killed my parents and gave me this." He quickly touched his scar.

Anthony froze for only a second and then pulled Harry tightly to him. "Merlin, I'm so sorry. How could I have been so dense?" 

Harry didn't say anything.

Anthony continued the embrace. "Listen, we'll spend all of tomorrow with each other."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. “First off, you don’t have to apologize.” His voice was muffled against Anthony’s chest. “I really want to spend tomorrow with you; I just have Quidditch practice in the morning, but I'm free after that."

"Hold on — I have a Prefect meeting at one o'clock, and then I'm leading an Arithmancy tutoring session at three.” He sighed with frustration, “Damn." 

"Don't worry about it. I'll be okay."

"No wait, I have an idea. We'll slip away early from the feast." He loosened his embrace just enough so that they could look at each other. “I know your parents died at night,” he paused and kissed Harry gently on his cheek. “So I'll stay with you. I'll stay with you all night."

It was a moment before Harry could respond. Then he reached up and whispered in Anthony's ear. "Thanks for caring about me."

Anthony whispered back, "I don't just care about you, Harry." He gazed into those beautiful green eyes, "I love you."

That was the first time Harry could ever remember anyone saying that to him, and he knew in an instant that he felt the exact same way.

"I love you, too."

Then they began to kiss.

Anthony never did finish his rounds that night.

~~~~~SH~~~~~ 

The first attack came the first hour of Samhain with the British embassy in France; it collapsed the same way the orphanage had in London. The ambassador, his family, the staff and two visiting dignitaries all died.  The second attack occurred the second hour of Samhain.  This time it was the French Embassy in Britain. These attacks continued throughout the day, one each hour, all to Embassies, all in different countries, each one resulting in fatalities and destruction.   

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Dumbledore stepped gracefully from his Floo.

"What is the report, Albus?" asked Minerva as she stood to vacate his desk chair. As Deputy Headmistress, she'd been keeping an eye on things while he'd been at the Ministry that afternoon. 

Dumbledore shook his head as he sank wearily into his chair; it had been a trying day.

"Not good, I'm afraid." He looked to his long-time friend. "I greatly fear the ramifications of this day. The loss of so many ambassadors and diplomats will undoubtedly have wide-spread consequences." 

"Those poor Muggles." 

"Oh Minerva," the tone of his voice reflected his surprise at her elitist attitude. "The events of this day will affect us as well. The ramifications of today presents numerous opportunities for Voldemort's advancement, as undoubtedly these losses will put a diplomatic and possibly an economic strain on the countries involved."  

"But Albus, surely ...”

Speaking over her, "We haven't the manpower or the necessary time to establish relations with these different countries."

"Don't you think you might be over-reacting?"

"Over-reacting?" He repeated her words as he stood up, placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward as he continued in an emphatic tone.  "We've been fools, Minerva! Can't you see that? We live in this myopic bubble, barely concerning ourselves with the greater world around us!"

She stood to face him, her Scottish brogue lending a bite to her words, "We have enough to deal with! What the Muggles do..."

"What the Muggles do could very well affect our lives!  What if Voldemort keeps up with these attacks?"

She cringed when he said the name.

"What if he starts killing the Muggle leaders? What if the Muggles start warring upon each other? Can't you see how that would affect us?" He had to stop a moment to take a breath, as he'd gotten himself worked into a state. 

 "Albus, please sit down; let me get you a cup of..."

He continued as if she hadn't said a word. "We have only one liaison! In all this time, we've managed to establish relations with only one Muggle country."

A forlorn expression fell upon his face. "We haven't the time to catch up with him; he acted so quickly."

Then he looked out the window and continued in a quiet voice, as if speaking to himself. "Now I know Tom; I know what you've been doing all these many months — you've been planning."  He released a small chuckle. "You always were the smart one, and we have been the fools." 

In all the time she'd known him, Minerva had never seen Dumbledore so distressed. 

"Albus," at this point, she was hesitant to even interrupt him again. "Do you think we should cancel tonight's feast, in light of what has happened?" 

The old wizard reached out and stroked his Familiar and Fawkes offered a soft and beautiful trill in response. "Oh Minerva, the children love this feast. How can we deprive them the happiness of their youth?" 

"All right then," she sighed. "I'll tell the elves to get on with the preparations."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

And prepare they did.  The elves jumped into high gear: preparing special dishes and desserts for that evening's feast, decorating the Great Hall with floating Jack-O-Lanterns — they even conjured a Banshee to fly around the hall on her broom to swoop down every so often and toss candies to the younger children.   

All through the celebration, Anthony sat and watched Harry over at the Gryffindor table. It had been a frustrating day, knowing what Harry was going through but not able to be with him. 

Deciding they'd waited long enough, Anthony surreptitiously took his wand and quietly incanted "Wingardium Leviosa" to levitate a piece of candy over to Harry's plate of untouched food.

Harry stared momentarily at the candy that had just landed on his roast beef, then he looked over to Anthony who nodded his head in the direction of the side door and silently mouthed the words, Let's go.

Harry nodded and amidst the chatter and activity in the Hall, the two managed to discreetly slip out unnoticed to all except but one.

The Headmaster noticed the two young wizards exit as he sat and pondered the calamities of the day. In fact, it had been the main topic of conversation that evening for nearly everyone at the Head Table and the majority of the older students.

A House elf appeared next to Dumbledore and handed him a note.

He knew right away what this would be and took the missive with a sense of forebode. Unfolding the bit of parchment, he read—

Shacklebolt to Dumbledore,

Building collapse reported at 20:45 BST

Structure: Town Hall

Casualties: None. Building vacant at time of collapse

Location: Little Whinging, Surrey 

His breath froze in his chest as he read those last three words; he looked up with a chill of fear and stared out over the sea of students before him. "It's Harry," he whispered to himself. "The surprise is Harry."

Dumbledore turned to his right. "Minerva, get Poppy." Then he rose quickly from his chair and beckoned for Severus and Channon to follow him.

They moved swiftly to the side door where he'd seen Harry exit. Now, out of sight of the other students, they ran full bore across the side chamber and out through the open French doors.

When the three wizards reached the Rose Garden, the sight that greeted them stopped them in their tracks. 

Anthony was sprawled on the ground, blood was running from his eyes, nose and ears. Harry was motionless, suspended in the air with his arms out-stretched. An iridescent green light swirled around him as if he were encased in a shimmering green eggshell.

Dumbledore and Severus started for him but Channon called out, "No! You can't go near him."

The three men watched helplessly, desperate to do something. 

"We could try erecting a ward around him," suggested Channon. 

"There are already wards around the castle, obviously they are ineffective against whatever this is," responded Dumbledore.

Just then, Harry let out a prolonged scream. "Noooooo!"

Severus stepped forward, "I'm going to try and help him Occlude."

"No, it's too dangerous," warned Dumbledore.

Severus turned back and snapped at the old wizard, "What choice do we have. If we don't help him — he'll die."

There was no contradicting his words. 

"He’s right," added Channon.

“I am replaceable Albus,” said Severus. “Harry is not.”

The old wizard looked at his longtime friend and shook his head in defeat. “Please, be careful.”

Severus turned and approached cautiously. When he reached the perimeter of the shimmering field, he closed his eyes and began to Occlude, then stretched his efforts outward to include Harry. Suddenly he was bombarded with images, sucked in to witness a battle of memories. 

Then suddenly, Severus was watching a different set of images.

Now he was back in Harry's memories.

Voldemort again.

Back to Harry, but now these images were of a different nature: they were memories embraced with love.

All of a sudden, the shimmering green shield surrounding Harry exploded and shot out in all directions, the force of which knocked both Channon and Albus to the ground and hurled Severus backwards through the air. Harry fell to the ground and layed limply in a heap.  

Channon came to his senses. “Albus, are you all right?” He reached over and helped the old wizard to a sitting position.

“Yes, I believe so.” He looked over and gasped at the sight of the victims sprawled upon the ground.

Just then, Poppy and Minerva came upon the scene. “What happened?” One of them called out.

“See to the boys,” Dumbledore ordered. “Channon, go help them … I’ll check on Severus.”

Severus was laying flat on his back, staring up at the star filled night-sky. He saw several people run by in the periphery and then the next thing he knew a familiar face was hovering over him. It was Albus and he was speaking to him, but Severus couldn’t hear what he was saying.  

Engulfed in silence, Severus felt completely detached from the activity around him. He began to lose consciousness and as he did, the emotion from that last memory — the feeling of Harry’s love, came and wrapped itself all around Severus. It stayed with him as he sank into the blackness and held him tightly in its secure embrace. 

~~~~~SH~~~~~