The
corridors were flooded with students making their way between
classes. Most flowed easily along in the stream of bodies; some
were not so fortunate.
"You really should be more careful, Longbottom," Draco drawled as the
Gryffindor knelt to collect the books he had dropped in the hallway.
"You were the one not looking where you were going," Longbottom
retorted as he dusted his history text off, then squinted at the
notebook that had been lying next to it.
"If you had been paying attention to your surroundings at all, you would have noticed that I was standing still at the time."
Longbottom glared daggers at him.
"I do appreciate the sight of you on your knees, before me, though."
"Why you - !"
"Neville, no!" Granger grabbed her boyfriend by the arms as he
surged to his feet, spilling his books to the floor once again in his
rage.
Neatly sidestepping the hex that flashed past him down the hallway
collecting an unlucky third year, Draco made a strategic departure.
*** *** ***
He woke to a blinding headache, and groaned as he struggled to remember how he had ended up in this condition.
"Here," said a warm voice, gentle hands helping him to sit up, pressing a mug into his hands. "This will help."
He frowned, trying to identify the voice. Instinct told him it
was someone he could trust, so he swallowed a mouthful of the mug's
contents. An instant later he was sure he had been poisoned.
"No, don't spit it out. It'll help your head and stomach."
Squinting, he could make out a blood-red aureole around a pale face, watching over him with deep green eyes.
Mum.
"That's good," she said as he swallowed the foul liquid. "This
will help, too." He blinked as his glasses were settled into
place. "It seems you've inherited your father's head for
alcohol," she said with a faint smile.
He started to nod, but swiftly changed his mind, downing the rest of
the brew instead. "So Snape said." His words came out as
little more than a croak. He cleared his throat before trying
again. "He was most amused."
"I imagine so." A pause. "Did you know Severus Snape well?"
Harry frowned, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. "He was
my teacher. He trained me when things started to fall
apart. We loathed each other." Looking up, he saw her
indecision. "How did he become a ghost?" She gave him a
startled glance as she collected his mug and set it on a side table.
"You've seen him, then?"
He nodded; she sighed.
"Albus appointed him to the potions position shortly after Voldemort's
first fall. He'd been here barely a year when he was found
murdered in his classroom. The identity of his murderer was never
discovered."
"He doesn't know who killed him?"
"I assume not," Lily shrugged. "His testimony would be valid if
he did. I doubt he'd be willing to let his murderer roam free."
"He could be waiting for a chance to exact his own vengeance."
"You know him better than I thought," said Lily, one eyebrow
raised. "I don't see much of him myself, but Remus mentions him
on occasion."
He blinked. "He haunts Lupin."
She nodded. "Remus says he doesn't mind; that haunting him is
probably the closest Severus will ever come to laying his soul to rest,
so he mostly just lets him be."
Harry felt his lips twitch.
"And in your world?"
The blood drained from his face. "He was there until the end."
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't kill him. I did." He turned away, curling up on his side.
"Harry," she sighed. There was a pause as she seated herself on
the bed. Soft fingers tangled briefly in his hair. He held
still, caught between flinching away and melting into the caress.
"You can't change the past, Harry." She snorted
inelegantly. "I've had this conversation a thousand times with -
your father. You're so very much like him. I don't just
mean in looks, although you were unfortunate enough to inherit his hair
and eyesight." She laughed, but there was a catch in her voice
that spoke of sorrow rather than mirth. "You act just like he
does, like he did when Sirius and Harry died. You blame yourself
for things you couldn't control, for might-have-beens and maybes, and
just simply living where others died, and you won't talk to me, tell me
how I can help, and I never know what to say - "
She broke off, her breath hitching.
"Harry, I believe that you did all you could to help in your
world. From what you've told us, I don't think anyone else could
have stopped Voldemort in any other way. Even here, with
Voldemort still weak, there are very few who would have a hope of
holding him off, let alone besting him."
It was Harry's turn to laugh hollowly. "I don't think you can call what I did 'besting' anyone."
"You stopped him, at a high cost - "
"'Cost'!" shouted Harry, brushing her hand away and turning to glare at her furiously. "Hundreds of people died! My friends died! I killed them!"
"And how much longer do you think they would have lived if Voldemort
had won?!" her voice rose above his, her face flushing an identical
shade of red. "He could have killed them at a whim, tortured them
for the rest of their lives, or worse!"
"But..." Harry stared at her helplessly. "I killed them..."
Her piercing gaze held him fast. "How do you know that wasn't a mercy?"
He could only stare until forced to blink back unwanted tears, a cacophony of screams echoing in his mind.
"I don't know," he admitted hoarsely. "I don't know anything anymore..."
They sat in silence for several moments, before she reached out to him once more, clasping his hand firmly, but gently.
"I'm sorry I lost my temper with you yesterday."
He darted a quick look at her face before staring at the bedcovers again. "So am I," he murmured.
"I should have known better. You have plenty of reasons to be upset - "
"Not with you!" he interrupted, catching her gaze earnestly. "I
mean, what I said then, I didn't mean - " he broke off again in
confusion.
"It's okay," said Lily with a slight smile.
He stared at their hands. It wasn't okay, but he couldn't bring
himself to argue with her anymore. He forced his mind to
stillness, focussing only on her hand in his, until she broke the
silence again.
"The Headmaster stopped by earlier. He said he'd written to
Ollivander about your wand. We can collect it today, if you want."
He nodded, pretending that his hand hadn't clenched spasmodically at the wandmaker's name.
"And afterwards, I thought we might go and see Remus?" Her tone
made it a question. "I know he'd like to meet you -
properly."
Harry bit his lip before slowly nodding his acquiescence, and trying to
forget his dread of the place where the werewolf was currently
located. "Okay," he said, and let her tug him gently out of bed
to face the world again.
*** *** ***
"They've gone where?"
"You heard me," said Theo, calmly unpacking his books onto a table in the Gryffindor common room.
"That's not fair!" Simon protested. "Why does he get to see Uncle Remus first?"
Theo rolled his eyes and continued to organise his books. "We'll
see him soon enough. Dad said Harry had to get his wand from
Ollivander first so they were going to be down in London anyway."
"So he gets the day off school to visit Diagon Alley as well!" Simon fumed.
"Simon, I have studying to do."
"Then go to the library!"
Theo glared at him, and Simon recognised the glint of danger in his eye
that indicated he was very close to pushing his brother too far.
"Fine! Then I'll leave!" He stormed out of the
common room and down the corridor, with no set destination in
mind. That changed as soon as he caught sight of the statue of
the humpbacked witch. Grinning to himself at the thought of a
successful escapade into Honeydukes, he checked the area for any spies
then whipped out his wand and was down the passageway in a
flash. The enchanted sweets called to him down the
length of the tunnel, tantalizing his nose with delicious scents and
the promise of a solution to all life's worries, not to mention energy
to make up for the previous night's lack of sleep.
After successfully entering the shop unnoticed, he proceeded to spend
enough money for the shopkeeper to cast a blind eye to the fact that he
was obviously violating school rules by being there. He stopped
briefly by the Three Broomsticks, but ducked back out again when Madam
Rosmerta threatened to tell his mother where he was.
The thought of his mother soured his mood again. He briefly
considered staying in Hogsmeade just to spite her, but decided to share
his booty with his friends instead as it was starting to get
chilly. He sneaked through Honeydukes again to enter the tunnel,
and started to make his way back up to Hogwarts.
Halfway along the passage, a sickeningly wet crunch tortured Simon's
ears as his foot came to rest on something that wasn't as solid as he'd
been expecting. Peering down, he lifted his foot and examined the
ground beneath it by the light of his wand.
"Ew!"
The rodent had most definitely seen better days. Currently, it
bore the rather distinctive imprint of Simon's shoe embedded deeply
into the fur and skin of its partly-squished body. Leaning closer
in morbid fascination, he poked the wretched creature with his
wand-tip. It responded with a burst of activity from its tiny
limbs.
"Eek!" said Simon, stepping back. He moved forward again only
when it became apparent that, desperate as it appeared to be, the rat
was going nowhere fast in its condition.
"Huh," he poked the pathetic creature again, noting that its efforts
were not as energetic as before. It would only be a matter of
time before it died.
Standing up, Simon had moved a few paces down the tunnel before turning
to look back at the dying creature. Sighing, he plodded back and
stared at it for a moment before casting his gaze around in the dim
wand-light looking for an appropriately sized rock.
It just didn't seem right to leave it suffering, after all.
*** *** ***
He caught her eye across the common room, and nodded towards the
dormitories. A few minutes later she was shutting his door firmly
behind her, her curiosity apparent in her bearing.
"Pansy, my dear, I have a task for you."
The blonde girl arched her eyebrows delicately, a teasing smile upon
her lips. "What could I possibly do that you cannot, Draco dear?"
"Oh, all sorts of things, I'm sure," he smiled winsomely at her. "But this task comes from an alternate source."
Her pale brows rose higher on her forehead. "Indeed. Is it - "
"You know we never name names," he chastised, tapping his finger against her pouting lips.
"But is it...?" she trailed off delicately.
He chuckled at her persistence.
"That's really not fair, you know. I've been with them for ages now, and I've never had such an opportunity to prove my loyalty."
"Now you do." He pressed a small package into her hands.
"Through you," she said pointedly, weighing the parcel in her hand.
"Do you have a problem with that?"
She paused, eyeing him in consideration, then leaned in close.
"If you were someone else, I might have," she murmured in his
ear. "But you're you - and you're making the right choice at
last." She kissed his cheek softly before leaving the room.