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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
Harry placed his palm on the hard stone wall.
The stones were always so cold here in the corridor, even though it was nice and warm inside Snape's quarters. He sometimes wondered about that, remembering the freezing January afternoons when they had shivered in the Potions classroom, wishing they were somewhere else.
He stood there for a moment and then took the final step towards the wooden door. His palm was cold and the sensation made the coiled snake feel strange, as if it was truly alive, breathing under his touch.
The thought made a part of his mind stir and prepare to let the sibilant whispers come out of his mouth. For a moment he wondered how insane it would be to actually talk to the small ornament. It would suit his mood perfectly to stand here and talk to an inanimate object.
Swallowing the hisses and the hysterical laughter that threatened to escape, Harry simply pressed the snake.
No words were needed. The powerful wards Snape had on the door recognized him immediately, and the door opened without a sound. Harry let out a relieved sigh as he slipped through the doorway. He hadn't been certain he'd make it here.
His mind was still spinning, wanting to reject all the overwhelming information he'd heard just a moment earlier. Only the familiarity of the corridors had guided him down here. For once he was grateful for his need to flee,otherwise he would still be standing outside Dumbledore's offices.
Probably staring into the distance with a shocked look on his face.
Kind of like he was now. It was good to feel the solid door behind him, grounding him to the reality that had suddenly turned into a whirlwind of chaos and weirdness surpassing any he'd ever met in their world. Not even hearing he had a godfather who was wanted for murder had made him feel this unreal. Or this lost.
"Potter?"
Snape's voice broke his reverie, and he blinked slowly, looking up. He focused on all the familiar things that surrounded him; the very solid and real walls, the couch and the small coffee table. Moving slowly, he went to sit on his chair, for once needing to feel the armrests confine him in a certain place and ground him. He couldn't stand the idea of sitting next to Snape on the couch. If he tried, he'd probably crawl all over him and never let go.
"Potter? What is it?" This time the worry was evident in Snape's voice. He leaned forward, putting the parchments he'd been studying down on the table.
Harry took a deep breath. "I'm fine." He was such a poor liar even he didn't believe it.
There was no sarcastic comment, even though he was certain Snape was biting his lip to prevent it from escaping. No questions either, only silence.
"Dumbledore told me..." Harry couldn't really say the rest of it. The explanation had been so insane, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Any sound would probably come out as a scream.
Snape waited patiently for him to finish. He had no idea why Harry had insisted on seeing the Headmaster now. It could be anything. When the silence stretched, he prompted, "Yes?"
"He told me why Voldemort killed my parents. Or at least why he thinks he did it. I just..." Making a small gesture with his hand, Harry looked at Snape's now expressionless face. It was saying more than a thousand words.
Snape knew. There were no doubts in his gaze, only the calm stare.
"Wild Magic."
Harry closed his eyes. He didn't want to believe the insanity Dumbledore had told him had actually been true. But if Snape said it too... He would know.
It was incredulous, impossible. He had always thought it would be something grand; a prophecy telling of the Dark Lord's fall or maybe some kind of heroic thing his father was doing that had somehow branded him as well. That would have made sense.
Not this. Feeling the urge to laugh bubble inside just as it had in Dumbledore's office, Harry looked at Snape again. "That's what he said. That Voldemort thought that my father would stand in his way because..." Anger and hysterical amusement flashing in his gaze, he ground out, "Because he was the king stag." A creature of myth.
He'd grinned when Dumbledore had begun his explanation, thinking it was a joke. When the familiar twinkle had disappeared from Dumbledore's gaze, he'd sobered up.
Listening to the quietly spoken words had been strange. Harry had heard all the words, but they had not made any sense to him, almost as if they were in some kind of a foreign language. It was still hard to believe anything Dumbledore had said.
"Yes." Snape could see the disbelief in Harry. He didn't blame him for it. When he'd first heard about the Dark Lord's fears, he'd found them quite ridiculous as well, and he had grown up with the myths and legends. For someone like Harry who had been raised by ignorant Muggles, this must sound like the worst kind of a fairy tale.
Still, he had to wonder what the other professors were teaching these days. With all the Muggleborns in Hogwarts, there should be classes about tradition and lore and their history that stretched far beyond the times of Salazar Slytherin and his companions. "Certainly professor Binns has..."
"I don't give a damn what professor Binns has." Snapping the words out, Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He could see from the spark in the dark gaze that Snape would definitely not stop himself from making a dry comment if he didn't get a hold of his anger.
There was a short silence, the only sound Harry's ragged breathing.
"I know all about the myths." It was said quietly. "Despite what you might think, I didn't sleep through the History of Magic. Old ways of following the cycle of the year, the symbolism; I understand that. But... Damn it, Snape! It doesn't make any sense!"
Snape winced at the broken laughter that followed Harry's words. He knew the feeling. "I know. But it's the absolute truth."
Not many things were. This was one of the exceptions.
Trying to collect his thoughts, Harry mused out loud, "So you're telling me that Voldemort killed my parents because of some old fairy tales about claiming the land and challenging the king stag?" His voice broke with the last word.
It still made his heart ache every time he conjured up the Patronus; the memory of the silvery white stag protecting him from darkness and things that were worse than death. That hadn't simply been a charm, it had been his one true connection to his father.
And now he was supposed to believe that it had been that Animagus form that had condemned his parents?
"There were other reasons as well, I think. The Dark Lord was trying to make an example so that none of those who had left school recently would join the Order. But essentially, yes. The fact that your father could transfigurate himself into a stag was what killed him."
Harry heard the truth in Snape's voice. It made him want to destroy something. He couldn't believe how quickly his emotions were changing. A moment earlier he'd been bubbling with laughter that was bordering on insanity, now he was seething with rage. "Pettigrew!" It came out as a growl.
Snape didn't need that to be explained. "Yes. He told the Dark Lord everything about his circle of friends." Even then, weeks before his own decision to leave the Death Eaters, he'd held nothing but contempt for the Gryffindor. Such treachery was despicable, but it was also incomprehensible. He'd watched those four for seven years, had hated their close knit group. All for nothing.
Rage already cooling, Harry was taking deep breaths. He still couldn't believe this was it. "Okay... Snape?" He hesitated for only a moment. Then he asked, "Do you know if he really believed it? I mean... Did Voldemort honestly believe in this Wild Magic thing or not?"
He didn't want to ask it like this; like he wasn't talking to the Snape whom he knew, but to someone who had been a Death Eater. Someone who had known Voldemort well enough to actually help the Order to bring him down. He wanted to apologize for this somehow, but didn't know how.
"I don't know if he really believed in that. Wild Magic isn't like Dark Magic. It's old, untamed, dangerous. More dangerous than anything." Snape shrugged. "I think he believed in the symbolism."
"That one day he'd be challenged by the king stag?" In some deranged way, it was starting to make sense.
It never ceased to amaze Snape to hear Harry Potter make sharp and accurate deductions. After all, he had never shown any sign of having brains in his Potions class. "Yes. Or by his son."
Harry didn't know what to say, too many thoughts were running through his head. There was that familiar tingle that would make him laugh uncontrollably for long minutes until the hysteria turned into tears. He didn't want to give into it. Not now.
Something was nagging at the edge of his memory; words spoken a while back. He concentrated on it, trying to remember what was so important. Shaking his head, he stared at Snape. "Malfoy said that Voldemort wants to kill me this year when I turn eighteen." The day after his birthday when the ancient tradition said that the year started to slowly wane.
He didn't want to believe in this, but everything seemed to point into the same direction.
"Yes. The fact that you were born when you did seemed to bring some kind of validation to the Dark Lord's beliefs." Hoping that Harry wouldn't use that as a reason to blame himself for everything again, Snape sat there and watched as a myriad of emotions played over Harry's face.
Fortunately, slight disbelief, horror and anger seemed to win over everything else. Those were the ones he would need later on.
Harry wanted to cling to the rumors he'd heard and blindly ignore the stupidity both Dumbledore and Snape had told him, just because he couldn't believe that anyone was insane enough to slaughter a family for such a simple reason. An old legend? A fairy tale! Like he was Cinderella and maybe the next time Malfoy lied, his nose would grow so long it poked someone's eye out.
He stared at Snape, seeing that he was once again telling him the truth. He wanted to hate him for that, but couldn't. All he had ever asked from him was honesty, and that was what he got now.
Did others know as well? He doubted it. No one had ever said anything about this to him or his friends, there had been no rumors, no whispers. He was certain Remus would have told him if he'd known about this, or he'd at least been unable to keep it a complete secret.
"Do you know that..." Shaking his head, Harry closed his mouth. He couldn't tell Snape how talking about getting ready for the change seemed to be one of the only happy memories Sirius had. Hearing how the idea -- Sirius' idea -- had led to James Potter's death would shatter the man. "Oh no!"
Snape quirked up an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I need you to promise me you'll never talk about this with anyone. Especially Sirius. Please! I know you two hate each other, but he must never know. Never!"
It amazed Snape still that Harry could put such trust in him. He did hate Sirius Black. There was something in him that made him want to reach out and just strangle him; it was pure instinct.
When there was no instant reply, Harry sighed. "Please." He knew he would beg and plead if necessary.
Snape's dark gaze burned with curiosity. "Why?" He couldn't understand why everyone seemed to want to shelter Black from the realities of life. Surely he could handle talking about the past.
"Because the whole Animagus thing was his idea." The stories had always been important, both to Harry and to his godfather. Stories about mischief and friendship and loyalty; of three friends doing whatever it took to stay with the fourth Marauder during the suffering he went through every full moon. Sirius had talked about those times more often than he could really remember.
Snape still said nothing.
"It'll kill him. He's already... And if he hears that it was why Voldemort targeted my family, it'll kill him. I know you hate him and would like to see him squirm, but... Please." He knew how Snape hated begging, but he couldn't hold still. With a small movement, as if reaching out, he added, "Please don't tell him. Ever."
"He will never hear it from me." It wasn't because Snape wanted to support the mutt's already questionable mental health.
His protectiveness was definitely not universal, but with Harry it was absolute. He knew Harry needed Sirius Black, so he would try to learn to coexist with him. It might be the second hardest thing he'd ever done, but he would do his best.
There was a stunned look on Harry's face. He'd hoped Snape would agree, probably after hours of arguing and pleading. "Thank you."
"Don’t mention it." It sounded like Snape was really asking for Harry never to bring the whole matter up again.
Harry wondered if he should leave it at that, but there was still one thing he wanted to know. "Snape? Do you think that my father would have really..." What was the term Dumbledore had used? Challenged Voldemort for the lordship of the land? "Challenged Voldemort? I mean... He didn’t want to fight my father or me and now I’m here and..."
He didn’t really know how to say it so that it made sense. It certainly made no sense to him.
Snape's gaze was hard. "Are you familiar with the term 'self-fulfilling prophecy'?" Seeing the nod, he added, "I have often wondered if the Dark Lord should have studied the concept better before acting so irrationally."
"You mean that if he hadn't killed my parents, he might still be in power today?" The thought brought such conflicting emotions. Harry shivered.
"Maybe." Snape didn't sound convinced. He thought for a moment before adding, "Or maybe the Ministry would have raised against him. Maybe your father and his friends would have defeated him. Maybe one of his loyal Death Eaters would have stabbed him in the back with a poisoned knife. The thing is, we will never know. A time turner can not take us that far back."
That made Harry glare at Snape, wondering if the words were coincidental or if the man knew something.
Realizing that there was well concealed concern in Snape’s eyes instead of cold amusement and knowing, he relaxed against the backrest. He didn’t need the confining armrests to keep him from falling apart anymore and he kind of wished he’d sat next to Snape after all.
"Is there more you wish to talk about right now, or may we retire for the night?" Snape wondered if they’d already said too much, both of them.
It had been a long day. Harry suddenly remembered he’d been up since dawn and it was definitely close to midnight now. But even if he weren’t this tired, he’d still say the same. "I think I’m ready to go to bed. Yeah. You can use the bathroom first."
He smiled at the glare his words caused, but it was all right. In a few minutes, he would be able to snuggle up against Snape, and though the thoughts of ancient legends about kings and the Dark Lord would not fade away, there would be something more important in his life.
A/N: Like I said, the idea of the king stag comes from Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon. And no, am not going to advocate any pagan stuff here, this revelation basically just means that there's no prophecy.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-10-15 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-15 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-17 01:06 am (UTC)I also very much appreciated the adult conversation between Harry & Snape - it really adds to the believability of the relationship between them. Excellent!
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Date: 2006-10-17 12:38 pm (UTC)