“Harry Potter, destined to have no one…I will take everyone from you…”

Voldemort’s voice floated around him, taunting, as the green light filled the room. Harry was nearly blinded, but he forced himself to see through it; he had to see Snape once more. He found the dark eyes just as the light hit the man and Harry screamed, pulling against unseen bonds. He swore he was tearing his throat as he continued screaming, watching Snape fall lifeless to the ground.

“I will take everyone…”

He could hear Voldemort cackling around him, could feel the way they’d joined at the Ministry. He felt the excruciating burn he’d felt then during the possession as Voldemort tried to extinguish his life. Yet, it was the pain piercing his heart that threatened to break him. Tears poured down his cheeks as he stared at Snape’s lifeless body, his heart shattering to jagged pieces that sliced him over and over.

He pulled free from his bonds and ran to the professor, dropping to the floor next to him. He reached out to grasp the man’s tattered robes, not bothering to question why Snape was in his robes or why his own hands were covered in blood. He stared into the now blank eyes and felt the realization that Snape was dead engulf him.

He screamed brokenly again.

“Please, come back! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me alone!”

“I’m here, Potter!”

Harry shook his head violently as his mind conjured the professor’s voice. He could hardly believe how badly it hurt to lose Snape. He hadn’t realized how much the man had come to mean to him.

Until now, now that it was too late.

“I will take everyone…”

“Don’t leave me!” Harry cried desperately and dropped his head onto Snape’s chest.

“I am not leaving you. Potter, wake up!”

“I can’t,” Harry whispered. “I can’t be alone anymore.”

“Harry!”

His eyes popped open, then, still filled with tears, and he flew up in bed. He was still disoriented for a few seconds, the near-darkness of the room keeping him trapped in the near-darkness in which Snape had died. The despair over losing the man and the fear of being all alone once again was suffocating, constricting his chest painfully.

“Look at me, child.”

The gentle request was erased by a candle coming to life nearby and Harry’s mind first turning it lime green. He let out a choked sob as he fought to see Snape’s body, held back by invisible restraints again. He drew gasping breaths, each crushing his heart.

“Breathe,” came another gentle instruction and Harry began to slowly regain awareness.

As his eyes darted around, his mind began to settle and recognize things as they were. The candle turned back to a gently flickering orange, the darkness was broken just slightly by small, soft trickles of moonlight, and the room was no stone cell or blood-soaked throne room, but the cozy loft in Galen and Griffin’s cottage. There was no spell or ropes or shackles keeping him restrained, but kind, warm hands on his arms. Snape’s body wasn’t still on the floor, but sat next to Harry on the edge of his bed. He looked up and the dark eyes weren’t empty, but meeting his with concern.

He wasn’t alone.

He let out a shuddering breath as he came to the realization and, without thinking, wrapped himself around the professor’s waist. His head came to rest over the man’s heart and he let the beating calm him. He wasn’t sure how he expected Snape to react, but was pleasantly surprised when, after just a moment, the man’s hands came to rest on his back.

“He killed you,” Harry whispered after a long silence.

“Not this time,” Snape said just as quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, realizing this was the fourth night he’d woken Snape with the same nightmare.

“No need to apologize,” Snape said. “Nightmares are out of our control and to be expected, given all you’ve been through.”

Harry sighed and pulled back from Snape, slightly embarrassed by his display. He shuffled back to lean against the wall and turned his head to look out the window, seeing torches from his sideview of the village.

“Why are they happening now?” Harry asked, annoyed with his own psyche.

“You have actually been having nightmares since we arrived, but they were not extreme enough to remember or wake you,” Snape said. “We are no longer in imminent danger, so your mind is settling. It needs to work through what you have experienced now it is not focused solely on survival.”

“Why am I dreaming that you died? I know you didn’t,” Harry said, turning to look at the man again.

“Our nightmares are often where we see the things we fear most,” Snape said. “Additionally, I nearly died and, for at least a few seconds, you had to accept that I was going to die.”

Harry dropped his gaze to his blanket-clad legs. His nightmare replayed as did those final moments in Voldemort’s headquarters. He remembered the fear of losing someone else, of never having someone who could care for him, who could be the family he’d never had. He didn’t know if Snape could or would be that person, but, at least in Harry’s mind, it’s the role the man had acquired and he couldn’t fathom losing the man. He would be lost.

“You called me Harry,” he said, remembering the shout that had finally pulled him from the nightmare. 

Snape just hummed in response and Harry looked out the window again.

“Everything feels different here,” Harry said. “Is it wrong that I’m not sure I want to go back?”

“No,” Snape said. “It is a world in which you have been hurt time and again.”

Harry nodded. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve got anything to go back to. I hate who I am there. I’m alone there.”

“As you said, it is different here,” Snape said. “You do not have the same expectations or threats.”

Harry looked back at the professor. “Neither do you.”

Snape inclined his head. “It is different for the both of us.”

“Is it?”

“I called you ‘Harry’, did I not?” Snape said, his tone lifting.

Harry’s lips twitched. “Does that mean I can call you ‘Severus’? I mean, if we’re going to be different and you’re going to be my guardian, I can’t keep calling you ‘professor’.”

Snape raised an eyebrow and the atmosphere lightened.

“Except in class, of course,” Harry added.

Snape released a put-upon sigh that made Harry grin. “Very well. Back to sleep now.”

Harry nodded and laid back down as Snape stood. Before the man could return to his bed, though, a thought occurred to Harry.

“Professor?” He’d work on the name thing tomorrow. Snape turned to him. “I know we have to go back eventually. When we do, what happens?”

“I am uncertain, but you can be assured you will not return or be alone again,” Snape said and Harry blinked at the slight burn that came to his eyes. “Sleep now, child.”

A few days later, Harry was leaning on the half-door that separated the cottage’s storeroom from the attached pen in which two horses grazed. He watched them, very aware of the village kids he could see just beyond the pen playing, laughing, and performing magic. He knew he needed to get to know the village and those he would be at Hogwarts with in just three weeks, but the mere idea made him anxious. Anytime he was out in the village and passed any kids, he saw the strange looks they gave him and it just reminded him of his entire life all over again. No matter where he went, he got odd looks and wide berths.

He sighed and turned his attention back to the horses with a small frown.

One had its head to the ground as it grazed on the grass and the other was calmly walking and looking around. The grazing horse was quite large and muscled though it had an elegance about it. Its coat was a dark bay, nearly black, with a long, thick mane and tail, and feather on its lower legs around the hooves. The other was a bit smaller though with more chiseled and graceful muscles. It was sleek and slender with a flowing tail and mane. It was predominately white, but had a few large black spots in various places.

“Good morning, lad.”

Harry looked over his shoulder to see Galen and Griffin in the doorway. They crossed the room and joined him at the pen door.

“We’ve had these two since they were foals,” Galen said. “Aspen, the black and white one—tobiano—was abandoned by his breeder for being tobiano. Pure white is the colour everyone wants.”

“I got Willow in a trade,” Griffin said, gesturing to the large brown horse. “Owners needed a fully grown draught and didn’t have time to wait for a foal to grow.”

“So, they’re not magical?” Harry asked.

“No, just regular horses for riding,” Griffin said. “We often use them for teaching the village kids how to ride before they go to Hogwarts since they are the calmest and gentlest horses we have.”

Harry looked at him curiously. “There’s horse riding at Hogwarts?”

“Riding in general,” Galen said. “In fact, Severus tells us you’re quite the flier back home.”

“He did?” Harry said, surprised, and the twins nodded. “I’m a fair flier, I suppose.”

“Youngest Seeker in a century and best flier in twenty years?” Griffin said with a smile.

“Better than fair, I’d say,” Galen said. “Have you ever ridden?”

“A hippogriff once,” Harry said.

“Come on,” Griffin said, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s see if we can’t find you a mount.”

“Brooms aren’t the only way to fly here,” Galen said, grinning, and they led Harry from the cottage.

They turned left and headed up the road to the glade that held horses and unicorns. As they drew closer, Harry saw that there were at least a dozen horses of different sizes, types, and colours, and at least a dozen unicorns as well. However, entering the field, Harry found there were also hippogriffs and Thestrals, all living with the horses and unicorns harmoniously. As surprised as he was by the hippogriffs and Thestrals, it was nothing compared to what he spotted further in the distance along the forest edge.

“Is that a griffin?” Harry said, shocked.

“Sure is,” Griffin said with a grin to match Galen’s.

“We’ve actually got four,” Galen said. “They tend to keep to themselves. We usually have to go to them.”

“Wicked,” Harry muttered, watching the griffin wander for a couple minutes. “So, students learn flying and riding?”

Galen nodded. “There are several ways to travel if you know how to do so. You, of course, learn of these creatures in other classes, but we specifically teach how to care for them as transportation as well as pets or familiars.”

“We often share lessons with Filippa,” Griffin said and Harry looked at him questioningly. “Filippa Tait, the Creature Studies professor.”

“You are enrolling at Hogwarts for this autumn, correct?” Galen asked.

“Yeah, it’s why Severus has been basically gone the last couple days,” Harry said with a small sigh. “He’s working it out with the Foun…er, the headmasters and mistresses.”

“Well, let’s see how you do riding and we’ll know what mount you may want to focus on at Hogwarts,” Galen said.

“They are all comfortable with people, so just go meet them,” Griffin said, gesturing to the animals. “One may stand out to you or come to you.”

Harry nodded and walked into the field as the twins did the same in a different direction, heading directly for a few Thestrals that were grazing together. Harry wandered through, looking at each horse, unicorn, Thestral, and hippogriff he passed, each making him think of his past experiences. He gently stroked a few horses and a couple of brave unicorns, smiling at the hippogriffs who looked at him calmly as they wandered by. 

He was stroking a lovely grey horse who seemed to be adoring the attention when it suddenly whinnied loudly and reared up slightly, quickly trotting away as it shook its head. Harry frowned at the apparent fear and looked around, trying to find what could have spooked the animal. He spotted movement on the ground near his feet and realized a snake was slithering through the grass towards the grey horse and others.

He crouched down and immediately began talking to the snake. It was simply searching for food and had followed some prey out of the forest. 

“Whoa, are you a Parselmouth?” Griffin asked and Harry stood, sending the snake away into the forest and away from the horses.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, somewhat hesitant as he remembered his second year and how people had reacted when they first discovered his ability.

“Come with us,” Galen said quickly and, feeling clueless, Harry followed the twins from the glade. They walked through the village, taking a road that cut between the mason and the tanner, following it to a cottage that looked nearly identical to all the others if slightly larger. He followed them to the front door where Griffin knocked and pushed the door open before waiting for a response. Inside, they found Salazar and Severus sitting at the table in the common area, parchments spread across the table. Both looked up questioningly.

“Apologies if we are interrupting,” Griffin said.

“Not at all,” Salazar said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not wrong,” Griffin said.

“We discovered something about Harry we thought you would be interested in,” Galen said and gestured for Harry to step forward. 

Harry did so, coming to stand next to Severus who looked at him curiously. “Um, I’m a Parselmouth.”

Salazar’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

Harry nodded.

“Sit, please,” Salazar said, gesturing to the chair beside Severus. “Thank you, boys.”

Galen and Griffin inclined their heads and left.

“Tell me about your abilities,” Salazar said, clearly interested.

“Uh, I don’t really know much, honestly,” Harry said. “I talked to a snake once when I was eleven, but I didn’t know what had really happened. I didn’t know I was a wizard yet. I didn’t know anything about Parseltongue until I was twelve.”

“I understand you lost your parents very young, but were either of them Parselmouths?” Salazar asked.

Harry looked at Severus, his limited knowledge of his parents leaving him without an answer.

Severus shook his head. “His mother was Muggleborn and having such a rare gift is not something his father would have kept secret.”

“A talent associated with evil Slytherins?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

“I suppose you have a point,” Severus conceded. “However, no, Parseltongue is not known to run in the Potter line.”

“It commonly skips generations,” Salazar said. “Sometimes several. Any idea who may have had the gift in your family?”

Harry frowned, shaking his head. “Dumbledore said Voldemort gave it to me.”

“I’m sorry?” Salazar said, confused.

“When I was a year old, a dark wizard killed my parents and tried to kill me, only I survived with my scar while he was destroyed,” Harry said. “My headmaster told me the dark wizard transferred some of his powers to me when he gave me the scar and that’s why I can speak Parseltongue.” He saw Salazar’s eyes flicker to his forehead and mouth twist into a small frown.

“Parseltongue cannot be transferred in that manner,” Salazar said. “It can only be passed genetically.”

Harry glanced at Severus, puzzled.

“You said you received this scar when this wizard attempted to kill you?” Salazar said.

Harry nodded. “Killing Curse rebounded somehow, destroyed him instead.”

Salazar’s expression was one of deep thought. “Is it a regular scar?”

Harry glanced at Severus again, growing anxious. “Um, not really. It hurts, especially when I’m near him or he touches me. He’s made me see things and he possessed me a couple months ago.”

Alarm flashed in Salazar’s eyes, increasing Harry’s anxiety. “Would you consent to a deep scan so I can identify the Black Magic I noted before?”

“Is something wrong?” Severus asked.

“Not wrong as there is little ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ about magic, but something serious resides in Harry, I think,” Salazar said and Harry tensed.

Severus’ hand came to rest on his leg. “Dangerous?”

“If I am right, not while you are here,” Salazar said, “and it could be something we could take care of.”

Harry suddenly felt very afraid of what Voldemort had done to him, what Dumbledore had kept from him. Somehow, he knew whatever his scar was, was extraordinarily disturbing. He didn’t realize he’d begun shaking as Halloween night all those years ago, what he could remember of it, flashed before his eyes, followed by Voldemort’s resurrection. He wasn’t sure how long he was trapped in the memories, but he eventually saw past them just enough to see Severus leaning close to him and trying to get his attention. A hand came up to rest on the side of his neck, the touch grounding him more.

“Could you give us a minute, Salazar?” he heard Severus ask.

“Of course,” Salazar said and Harry heard the man leave, everything looking and sounding far away as his memories continued at the edges.

“Harry, look at me.”

Harry thought he did, but he must have been off as Severus took his chin and tilted his head a certain way, ensuring his eyes met Severus’ dark ones. His memories slipped further out of his field of vision, letting him see Severus more and notice his own trembling.

“Just breathe and focus on me,” Severus said and Harry did his best to listen. He took a few deep breaths, Severus’ hand dropping from his chin as he calmed. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“What am I?” Harry whispered fearfully.

Severus’ eyebrows furrowed just slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You heard Salazar! There is something inside me, something from Voldemort!” Harry said frantically. “What kind of thing could cause the visions and the possession and the pain? What did he make me?”

“Calm down, child,” Severus said, placing his hands on Harry’s knees.

“But—”

“Listen to me,” Severus said firmly. “Regardless of what Salazar finds, you are nothing but you: Harry Potter, the boy who lives to consistently turn my life upside down and drive me mad.”

Harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Gee, thanks.”

Severus gave him a look of fond yet exasperated amusement. “You know what I mean, brat.”

Harry gave a lopsided grin though it faded moments later. “What if it’s something awful?”

“Then we deal with it, and we trust Salazar and any others to help us,” Severus said.

“But you don’t trust anyone,” Harry said, laughing when Severus brought his hand up to swat him upside the head.

“Salazar,” Severus called and the man returned to them, retaking his seat.

“I apologize for frightening you,” Salazar said to Harry. “I do not want you to worry. I will do everything in my power to help with anything I find.”

Harry swallowed through a tight throat, nodding. He tensed as the man stood and walked around the table to stand next to him. He turned to face Salazar at the man’s gesture.

“I want you to try and relax,” Salazar said. “There should be no pain, but there could be discomfort. Just remain still and calm.”

Harry nodded stiffly again and breathed deeply, willing himself to calm down. He tried to focus on Severus, trying to utilize the professor’s always calm and steady presence.

“If it helps with comfort, you may close your eyes,” Salazar added. “I am going to begin.”

Harry let his eyes close as he felt his skin tingle, magic flowing gently over him. It was nice and he could feel himself begin to relax under its touch only for there to suddenly be a sharp tug in his chest. His eyes snapped open as it began to feel like something was being pulled from inside him and found wispy dark strands stretching from his chest to Salazar’s hand where they were forming a swirling ball. He looked between it and Salazar, alarmed.

“Calm yourself,” Salazar said gently. “I am taking a small portion of the Black Magic entities to examine. It is the only way I can identify them. You are in no danger.”

Harry nodded, moving his eyes back to the magic. It stopped seconds later and Salazar left the swirling ball hovering in the air over the table. The same thing began to happen to Harry’s throat, a sharp tug that made his eyes shut with the discomfort, and then the feeling of something being pulled from his throat. Once the process finished in his throat, it was repeated in his head where he knew his scar lay. Finally, it was all over and there were three orbs of swirling, dark threads levitating over the table. Salazar returned to his seat as Severus touched Harry’s knee again, looking at him questioningly.

“I’m okay,” Harry said quietly and Severus nodded, turning back to Salazar who was already looking at the spheres, his hands cupped around one without actually touching it.

“So, these are the three Black Magics attached to you in some capacity,” Salazar said. “This one is your Parseltongue. The gold mixed in indicates that it is a natural magic within you as it is intertwined with your own magic.”

“I don’t understand how it’s natural,” Harry said. “No one in my family were Parselmouths.”

“Someone in your ancestry was,” Salazar said. “We can speak with Isabella.”

Harry nodded, struggling to understand the lies told and secrets kept in his life. He watched Salazar move onto the second sphere, this one still dark, nearly black, but with both tiny gold and green hair-width strings mixed in.

“Now, this…” Salazar said, guiding some threads to twist through his fingers before returning them to the orb. “This is manifestation. You have been through much trauma and the way it has affected you at a magical level has resulted in a manifested affinity for certain Black Magic branches.”

Harry shifted at the mention of trauma, immediately thinking of his life with the Dursleys.

“Unsurprisingly, given your Parseltongue gift, you have an affinity for Parsel Magic,” Salazar said, sending him a smile.

“That’s a thing?” Harry said.

Salazar chuckled. “Indeed, it is. We can discuss it more,” he said and moved onto the final orb, the magic pulled from Harry’s scar.

Harry became anxious as Salazar’s face turned into a frown, eyebrows furrowing. The third orb was black and seemed to be tighter than the others, the threads not twisting together as lightly or calmly. There were also deep red threads tangled within, looking like small rivers of blood. Like he had with the previous sphere, Salazar guided the magic to wrap around his fingers, his frown deepening.

“You said this dark wizard was destroyed when he tried to kill you?” Salazar asked, still interacting with the magic.

Harry nodded. “He came back though, last June.”

“How?” Salazar asked.

“Some kind of resurrection ritual,” Harry said, fighting not to get lost in the graveyard. “He used my blood as part of it.”

Salazar hummed, nodding almost absently as he continued examining the magic. Harry began to chew his lip with anxiety as Salazar’s examination took longer and longer, and the man’s face tightened more and more. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, Salazar dropped his hands from the orb and the threads returned to their tight ball. He looked across the table at Harry and Severus, Harry feeling a pit settle in his stomach.

Salazar clasped his hands on the table, looking at them seriously. “What do you know about horcruxes?”