Chapter 50 - Part A
Chapter Fifty - Part A
A while after Remus had left him to his quiet rumination, Albus looked up when a knock sounded upon his office door.
“The end of another school year, Albus,” Professor McGonagall began, opening the door in response to his welcome. She paused then, however, and regarded the Headmaster over the rim of her glasses. “Albus, are you well? You look a little peaky.”
Dumbledore gestured wearily and shrugged, “I feel old, Minerva.”
Professor McGonagall looked startled at that and drew closer, “You’re not old, Albus; you’ve many years yet. What’s brought this on?”
“I…” Dumbledore began and then shook his head. “I don’t know. I wonder if I’m doing enough for the Order; if it wouldn’t be wiser to step down and let someone better fill these shoes.”
“I see,” Professor McGonagall replied gravely and waved her wand at the kettle as she took a seat. “And how long have you felt like this?”
“Since…” Dumbledore pondered for a second and shook his head again, dismissing the thoughts. “What does it matter? I’m right, it’s time to retire and you would make an excellent leader of the Order - not to mention a superb Headmistress, Minerva.”
Professor McGonagall said nothing but stared into the older man’s eyes for a long minute before sitting back in her chair. “No, Albus, this isn’t right. Perhaps you’re coming down with something - I’ll have Poppy come see you in a little while - but this isn’t the time for retirement.”
At this, the Headmaster’s eyebrows drew together in an affronted frown. “Professor McGonagall,” he began and she jumped at the address, “if I say I wish to retire, then who are you to tell me otherwise?”
“Albus -” she whispered, shocked.
And as quickly as his temper had flared so a wave of sorrow swept over Dumbledore and he stared at her in utter remorse. “Minerva… my dear friend…” A tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek into his beard and Professor McGonagall was at his side in and instant.
“Come on,” she urged, drawing him onto his feet, “go and have a rest, Albus. The students are on their way home, the party isn’t until tonight and the world won’t come to an end just because you’re having a wee snooze. Off you go - I’ll ask Poppy to see you presently.”
“But… Jenna and Alison, Minerva… they’re still missing. And young Daniel was so very upset…” Dumbledore fretted, even as he allowed his Deputy to steer him towards his private chambers.
“Nothing that won’t keep for an hour or two,” Professor McGonagall murmured softly and patted his shoulder before leaving him to settle.
*~*~*
At Leeds, Jenna called for a break and Alison reluctantly nodded and led them towards the train station. They seemed to have caught the Muggle rush hour with commuters crowding the platforms and ticket booths.
“We can’t wait long,” Alison cautioned, stepping into a deserted waiting room that smelled of a strange mixture of engine oil and ancient dust.
“I know, Ali, but he’s exhausted,” Jenna replied, gesturing to Toby. The little boy’s eyes were slightly glazed and he swayed where he stood beside her. “Here, Toby,” she murmured and guided him to a long, wooden bench seat. “Lie down for a minute and close your eyes.”
The boy moved, trance-like, to comply but didn’t close his eyes.
“It just makes me nervous being this close to so many people. It’d be too easy for someone to take a shot at us,” Alison fretted and stared out of the dirty windows at the milling commuters.
“Yes. Okay.” Jenna responded with a weary sigh, “However, Toby’s only - how old?” she looked expectantly at the little boy.
“Nearly eight,” Toby mumbled, still fighting to keep his eyes open.
Jenna smiled at him and then looked back at Alison, “Really, Toby’s too young to be Apparating - even short distances! We’re Apparating from Hampshire to Scotland, Ali, and the effects on his health could be disastrous if he doesn’t get a break and some sleep.” She emphasised, giving Toby another look.
“If I close my eyes,” Toby slurred in response, “you might go without me.”
“What?” Alison jumped. She quickly crossed the floor of the waiting room and crouched down beside his bench. “Toby, I promise you - we won’t go anywhere without you.” She glanced up at Jenna and then looked back at him with a little shake of her head, “Jenna’s going to sit with you so you just close your eyes and I’ll see if I can find some chocolate or something. Okay?”
For a minute, Toby regarded her with sleepy eyes as he tried to determine if she was telling the truth. Finally, though, he nodded and when Jenna sat on the bench beside him, he shifted a little to pillow his head on her thigh.
“Good boy. I won’t be a minute,”
“Take care,” Jenna cautioned and Alison only nodded before heading off in search of a shop or a muggle vending machine.
*~*~*
Severus shifted and tugged the bed covers over himself a little more. Despite the words of warning after his impromptu shower that morning, time was getting on and the three of them were still in bed. Staring at the ceiling, he sighed and then turned his head to look at Draco and Harry where they lay sleeping, tangled hopelessly in one another.
They made a pretty picture, he considered, and then frowned as a stray thought wandered along their telepathic link. One of them was dreaming but as yet it was too vague to determine who. The thought - more an idle emotion - was unsettled and disgruntled and Severus found himself suddenly at odds with this house and their isolation here.
He frowned and rolled over to face Harry and Draco, sending a gentle querying shimmer along the link. The idea that one of them should feel resentment towards this self-imposed exile was worrying in the extreme but was it genuine? Was it an insincere dream; just a dark fantasy? Or some kind of deep emotion that only surfaced when the mind and body were so relaxed?
As the questioning shimmer reached him first, Draco blinked drowsily awake and focused on Severus. He frowned, fine blond eyebrows drawing together in the shared resentment.
It was Harry then. Harry, with whom they’d worked so hard to push back his darker inclinations; whom they’d encouraged to re-build his old Gryffindor friendships. Harry, who was now separated from those friends and was privately rebelling… at least in his dreams… against this separation.
“… trapped beneath fucking Malfoy Manor…” Harry mumbled into the pillow, still lost within his dream, “… and then trapped here as soon as I was fucking free…”
Unable to hold onto the jolt of hurt surprise, Severus stared at Harry’s sleeping face. The shared resentment curled with a spiked acidity in his stomach, drawing a natural sense of irritation and he struggled to hold onto a sneer.
‘He doesn’t mean it,’ Draco rushed to intercede. ‘We’d know if he really felt like that.’
Severus, however, didn’t reply but rolled out of bed and stalked towards the bathroom. When the door closed sharply behind him, he felt Harry wake with a jump but he didn’t go back. He’d clean up, get dressed and begin preparing for tonight. Maybe seeing his friends again would ease Harry’s feelings but Severus couldn’t care very much, right now; too annoyed that the wretched boy had tried to hide his feelings.
He started the shower and closed his mind as best he could to the conversation in the bedroom. When he was towelling dry afterwards, however, Harry stepped into the bathroom and halted on the threshold. Severus regarded him for a moment and then turned to hang his towel.
“You could have said something,” he said at last, turning back to Harry.
“There was no point.” Harry countered. “We’re not here because any of us want to be here; we’re here because it’s necessary.”
“And yet you’ve been secretly ranting and railing against that necessity for - how long?” Severus growled. “A week? A month? Since we arrived?” And how had he kept such a thing secret anyway?
“No, not that long. I don’t know. And I don’t know how I kept it secret either.” Harry muttered and rubbed agitatedly at his face. “And it’s not that bad! Not as bad as in my dream - that was…” he shrugged.
“What?” Severus asked, “Not true? Sounded true. Felt true, for that matter.”
“I don’t know!” Harry yelled abruptly, “I don’t know what I feel! I don’t even know what’s me anymore! Where do I end and you or Draco begin? Which feelings are mine? If I’m tired, is that real or have you been over doing it lately? It doesn’t really matter, though, because when one of us is tired, we’re all sodding tired and so we all sleep!”
The door to the bedroom re-opened then and Draco appeared, looking anxious and upset. Harry took one look at him, shot Severus a swift, apologetic and, most of all, a truly unhappy glance and then pushed past Draco back into the bedroom.
“If I remember, Harry, you were pushing for the Nameless spell.” Severus barked, following him. He wondered absently how much of his anger was real or if it was Harry’s emotions bleeding into his again.
“I know!” Harry shouted, rounding on him. “I wanted it - needed it. It was the only thing to do and I love you - both of you,” he added, looking at Draco. He shook his head then, his expression pained, “And it’s not as if I don’t want to be here with you - I do! But I miss Sirius and Remus, Hermione and Ron…”
‘I miss people too,’ Draco offered
Severus shot him a sharp look, “So you resent our confinement as well! That’s just brilliant, Draco.”
‘No, that’s not what I’m saying!’ Draco shook his head frantically, ‘I just meant that Harry’s not the only one who feels isolated.’ He paused then, frowning at both of them. ‘What the hell’s going on? We’ve been fine up until now,’
“Well, it seemed that way,” Severus muttered darkly, glowering at Harry who scowled right back at him.
‘So what’s changed?’ Draco demanded. He looked from Severus to Harry, hesitated for only a second and then stepped forward.
“Dra -!” Harry began and then fell silent when Draco kissed him.
‘Talk to me like this,’ Draco implored, mid-kiss.
Harry didn’t respond, too caught up with opening for the kiss and tangling his tongue with Draco’s for any kind of coherent thought. Then his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed quietly at his blond lover.
‘What do you want me to say?’ he asked silently, telepathic voice soft and dreamy.
‘Tell me how you feel,’ Draco urged and then deepened the kiss again.
‘I feel… Gods, Draco… I’m fine… I want you…’ he huffed a silent laugh into the kiss and smiled, ‘… again.’
‘And what about being here with me and Sev?’ Draco asked softly.
‘Hmm?’ Harry was sliding his hands into the back of Draco’s trousers.
Severus, though, caught up with Draco’s intent and stepped in behind Harry, sandwiching him with Draco.
‘Are you happy here?’ he asked silently and kissed Harry’s ear.
‘Hell, yes!’ Harry responded, arching back into him.
‘No resentment? You wouldn’t rather be with Granger and Weasley?’ Draco asked, eyes now locked on Severus’ gaze.
‘No… no… Draco, please…’ Harry murmured silently.
Severus then nipped at Harry’s earlobe to gain his attention and asked aloud, “Tell me that again - out loud this time.”
Harry drew back from Draco’s kiss with obvious reluctance and then turned with a sigh to look over his shoulder at Severus, “What?” he asked with a bite of impatience.
“How do you feel about being here with us?”
“I…” Harry frowned and glanced back at Draco. He didn’t need to reply, however. As soon as he’d switched back to verbal communication, the mounting resentment returned full force and Severus felt it immediately.
He stepped back from both boys in order to gain a little space to breathe and think for a second.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, more of himself than Draco or Harry.
Draco frowned and absently fiddled with a dishevelled lock of Harry’s messy hair. ‘We were fine yesterday,’ he mused, ‘and we were fine first thing this morning. Whatever’s happened… must have occurred while we were sleeping.’
‘The wards remain intact,’ Severus added, closing his eyes to better sense the invisible meshwork over the house and grounds.
‘Would Keely know?’ Harry wondered, falling automatically into silent communication to match Draco and Severus.
‘She might,’ Severus responded, ‘but why don’t you try Caramon first. We appointed him minder of the house and its occupants, after all.’
No sooner had Severus put the idea in Harry’s head, so Caramon appeared before them and Harry was able to ask his question. “Did anyone approach the wards?”
Caramon shook his great, tusked head from side to side.
“Did anything approach the wards?” Severus asked.
Caramon paused, considering, and then nodded in affirmation.
“What was it?” Harry pressed, stepping closer.
The behemoth pondered this question for longer, as if uncertain how to answer or possibly uncertain what the invading thing had been.
“Bad thought,” Caramon finally rumbled. “Sorrow; horror; nothing.”
All three men frowned at this, unable to understand.
“Was it a spell?” Harry asked but Caramon shook his head and Severus murmured silently,
‘No, being a creature of magic, Caramon would recognise any spell or incantation’
“Sorrow; horror; nothing.” Caramon repeated and he seemed so morose.
‘Wait,’ Draco breathed, staring at Caramon in slow understanding. ‘What about a Dementor? I know one couldn’t get in here,’ he said, halting Severus before he could protest, ‘but if one was close enough to the wards…’
‘Then it might affect the moods of those within,’ Severus nodded.
‘But wouldn’t Caramon recognise a Dementor?’ Harry asked.
Severus shrugged, ‘Possibly not. Possibly he would simply feel deep depression - much like a muggle or a squib.’
‘And the ‘nothing’ bit?’ Harry pressed.
Draco sighed sadly, ‘You created him with your imagination and your overflowing magic. Before then, he was nothing; I’m guessing that returning to being nothing is Caramon’s worst nightmare.’
And wasn’t that a sobering thought?
*~*~*
A while after Remus had left him to his quiet rumination, Albus looked up when a knock sounded upon his office door.
“The end of another school year, Albus,” Professor McGonagall began, opening the door in response to his welcome. She paused then, however, and regarded the Headmaster over the rim of her glasses. “Albus, are you well? You look a little peaky.”
Dumbledore gestured wearily and shrugged, “I feel old, Minerva.”
Professor McGonagall looked startled at that and drew closer, “You’re not old, Albus; you’ve many years yet. What’s brought this on?”
“I…” Dumbledore began and then shook his head. “I don’t know. I wonder if I’m doing enough for the Order; if it wouldn’t be wiser to step down and let someone better fill these shoes.”
“I see,” Professor McGonagall replied gravely and waved her wand at the kettle as she took a seat. “And how long have you felt like this?”
“Since…” Dumbledore pondered for a second and shook his head again, dismissing the thoughts. “What does it matter? I’m right, it’s time to retire and you would make an excellent leader of the Order - not to mention a superb Headmistress, Minerva.”
Professor McGonagall said nothing but stared into the older man’s eyes for a long minute before sitting back in her chair. “No, Albus, this isn’t right. Perhaps you’re coming down with something - I’ll have Poppy come see you in a little while - but this isn’t the time for retirement.”
At this, the Headmaster’s eyebrows drew together in an affronted frown. “Professor McGonagall,” he began and she jumped at the address, “if I say I wish to retire, then who are you to tell me otherwise?”
“Albus -” she whispered, shocked.
And as quickly as his temper had flared so a wave of sorrow swept over Dumbledore and he stared at her in utter remorse. “Minerva… my dear friend…” A tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek into his beard and Professor McGonagall was at his side in and instant.
“Come on,” she urged, drawing him onto his feet, “go and have a rest, Albus. The students are on their way home, the party isn’t until tonight and the world won’t come to an end just because you’re having a wee snooze. Off you go - I’ll ask Poppy to see you presently.”
“But… Jenna and Alison, Minerva… they’re still missing. And young Daniel was so very upset…” Dumbledore fretted, even as he allowed his Deputy to steer him towards his private chambers.
“Nothing that won’t keep for an hour or two,” Professor McGonagall murmured softly and patted his shoulder before leaving him to settle.
*~*~*
At Leeds, Jenna called for a break and Alison reluctantly nodded and led them towards the train station. They seemed to have caught the Muggle rush hour with commuters crowding the platforms and ticket booths.
“We can’t wait long,” Alison cautioned, stepping into a deserted waiting room that smelled of a strange mixture of engine oil and ancient dust.
“I know, Ali, but he’s exhausted,” Jenna replied, gesturing to Toby. The little boy’s eyes were slightly glazed and he swayed where he stood beside her. “Here, Toby,” she murmured and guided him to a long, wooden bench seat. “Lie down for a minute and close your eyes.”
The boy moved, trance-like, to comply but didn’t close his eyes.
“It just makes me nervous being this close to so many people. It’d be too easy for someone to take a shot at us,” Alison fretted and stared out of the dirty windows at the milling commuters.
“Yes. Okay.” Jenna responded with a weary sigh, “However, Toby’s only - how old?” she looked expectantly at the little boy.
“Nearly eight,” Toby mumbled, still fighting to keep his eyes open.
Jenna smiled at him and then looked back at Alison, “Really, Toby’s too young to be Apparating - even short distances! We’re Apparating from Hampshire to Scotland, Ali, and the effects on his health could be disastrous if he doesn’t get a break and some sleep.” She emphasised, giving Toby another look.
“If I close my eyes,” Toby slurred in response, “you might go without me.”
“What?” Alison jumped. She quickly crossed the floor of the waiting room and crouched down beside his bench. “Toby, I promise you - we won’t go anywhere without you.” She glanced up at Jenna and then looked back at him with a little shake of her head, “Jenna’s going to sit with you so you just close your eyes and I’ll see if I can find some chocolate or something. Okay?”
For a minute, Toby regarded her with sleepy eyes as he tried to determine if she was telling the truth. Finally, though, he nodded and when Jenna sat on the bench beside him, he shifted a little to pillow his head on her thigh.
“Good boy. I won’t be a minute,”
“Take care,” Jenna cautioned and Alison only nodded before heading off in search of a shop or a muggle vending machine.
*~*~*
Severus shifted and tugged the bed covers over himself a little more. Despite the words of warning after his impromptu shower that morning, time was getting on and the three of them were still in bed. Staring at the ceiling, he sighed and then turned his head to look at Draco and Harry where they lay sleeping, tangled hopelessly in one another.
They made a pretty picture, he considered, and then frowned as a stray thought wandered along their telepathic link. One of them was dreaming but as yet it was too vague to determine who. The thought - more an idle emotion - was unsettled and disgruntled and Severus found himself suddenly at odds with this house and their isolation here.
He frowned and rolled over to face Harry and Draco, sending a gentle querying shimmer along the link. The idea that one of them should feel resentment towards this self-imposed exile was worrying in the extreme but was it genuine? Was it an insincere dream; just a dark fantasy? Or some kind of deep emotion that only surfaced when the mind and body were so relaxed?
As the questioning shimmer reached him first, Draco blinked drowsily awake and focused on Severus. He frowned, fine blond eyebrows drawing together in the shared resentment.
It was Harry then. Harry, with whom they’d worked so hard to push back his darker inclinations; whom they’d encouraged to re-build his old Gryffindor friendships. Harry, who was now separated from those friends and was privately rebelling… at least in his dreams… against this separation.
“… trapped beneath fucking Malfoy Manor…” Harry mumbled into the pillow, still lost within his dream, “… and then trapped here as soon as I was fucking free…”
Unable to hold onto the jolt of hurt surprise, Severus stared at Harry’s sleeping face. The shared resentment curled with a spiked acidity in his stomach, drawing a natural sense of irritation and he struggled to hold onto a sneer.
‘He doesn’t mean it,’ Draco rushed to intercede. ‘We’d know if he really felt like that.’
Severus, however, didn’t reply but rolled out of bed and stalked towards the bathroom. When the door closed sharply behind him, he felt Harry wake with a jump but he didn’t go back. He’d clean up, get dressed and begin preparing for tonight. Maybe seeing his friends again would ease Harry’s feelings but Severus couldn’t care very much, right now; too annoyed that the wretched boy had tried to hide his feelings.
He started the shower and closed his mind as best he could to the conversation in the bedroom. When he was towelling dry afterwards, however, Harry stepped into the bathroom and halted on the threshold. Severus regarded him for a moment and then turned to hang his towel.
“You could have said something,” he said at last, turning back to Harry.
“There was no point.” Harry countered. “We’re not here because any of us want to be here; we’re here because it’s necessary.”
“And yet you’ve been secretly ranting and railing against that necessity for - how long?” Severus growled. “A week? A month? Since we arrived?” And how had he kept such a thing secret anyway?
“No, not that long. I don’t know. And I don’t know how I kept it secret either.” Harry muttered and rubbed agitatedly at his face. “And it’s not that bad! Not as bad as in my dream - that was…” he shrugged.
“What?” Severus asked, “Not true? Sounded true. Felt true, for that matter.”
“I don’t know!” Harry yelled abruptly, “I don’t know what I feel! I don’t even know what’s me anymore! Where do I end and you or Draco begin? Which feelings are mine? If I’m tired, is that real or have you been over doing it lately? It doesn’t really matter, though, because when one of us is tired, we’re all sodding tired and so we all sleep!”
The door to the bedroom re-opened then and Draco appeared, looking anxious and upset. Harry took one look at him, shot Severus a swift, apologetic and, most of all, a truly unhappy glance and then pushed past Draco back into the bedroom.
“If I remember, Harry, you were pushing for the Nameless spell.” Severus barked, following him. He wondered absently how much of his anger was real or if it was Harry’s emotions bleeding into his again.
“I know!” Harry shouted, rounding on him. “I wanted it - needed it. It was the only thing to do and I love you - both of you,” he added, looking at Draco. He shook his head then, his expression pained, “And it’s not as if I don’t want to be here with you - I do! But I miss Sirius and Remus, Hermione and Ron…”
‘I miss people too,’ Draco offered
Severus shot him a sharp look, “So you resent our confinement as well! That’s just brilliant, Draco.”
‘No, that’s not what I’m saying!’ Draco shook his head frantically, ‘I just meant that Harry’s not the only one who feels isolated.’ He paused then, frowning at both of them. ‘What the hell’s going on? We’ve been fine up until now,’
“Well, it seemed that way,” Severus muttered darkly, glowering at Harry who scowled right back at him.
‘So what’s changed?’ Draco demanded. He looked from Severus to Harry, hesitated for only a second and then stepped forward.
“Dra -!” Harry began and then fell silent when Draco kissed him.
‘Talk to me like this,’ Draco implored, mid-kiss.
Harry didn’t respond, too caught up with opening for the kiss and tangling his tongue with Draco’s for any kind of coherent thought. Then his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed quietly at his blond lover.
‘What do you want me to say?’ he asked silently, telepathic voice soft and dreamy.
‘Tell me how you feel,’ Draco urged and then deepened the kiss again.
‘I feel… Gods, Draco… I’m fine… I want you…’ he huffed a silent laugh into the kiss and smiled, ‘… again.’
‘And what about being here with me and Sev?’ Draco asked softly.
‘Hmm?’ Harry was sliding his hands into the back of Draco’s trousers.
Severus, though, caught up with Draco’s intent and stepped in behind Harry, sandwiching him with Draco.
‘Are you happy here?’ he asked silently and kissed Harry’s ear.
‘Hell, yes!’ Harry responded, arching back into him.
‘No resentment? You wouldn’t rather be with Granger and Weasley?’ Draco asked, eyes now locked on Severus’ gaze.
‘No… no… Draco, please…’ Harry murmured silently.
Severus then nipped at Harry’s earlobe to gain his attention and asked aloud, “Tell me that again - out loud this time.”
Harry drew back from Draco’s kiss with obvious reluctance and then turned with a sigh to look over his shoulder at Severus, “What?” he asked with a bite of impatience.
“How do you feel about being here with us?”
“I…” Harry frowned and glanced back at Draco. He didn’t need to reply, however. As soon as he’d switched back to verbal communication, the mounting resentment returned full force and Severus felt it immediately.
He stepped back from both boys in order to gain a little space to breathe and think for a second.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, more of himself than Draco or Harry.
Draco frowned and absently fiddled with a dishevelled lock of Harry’s messy hair. ‘We were fine yesterday,’ he mused, ‘and we were fine first thing this morning. Whatever’s happened… must have occurred while we were sleeping.’
‘The wards remain intact,’ Severus added, closing his eyes to better sense the invisible meshwork over the house and grounds.
‘Would Keely know?’ Harry wondered, falling automatically into silent communication to match Draco and Severus.
‘She might,’ Severus responded, ‘but why don’t you try Caramon first. We appointed him minder of the house and its occupants, after all.’
No sooner had Severus put the idea in Harry’s head, so Caramon appeared before them and Harry was able to ask his question. “Did anyone approach the wards?”
Caramon shook his great, tusked head from side to side.
“Did anything approach the wards?” Severus asked.
Caramon paused, considering, and then nodded in affirmation.
“What was it?” Harry pressed, stepping closer.
The behemoth pondered this question for longer, as if uncertain how to answer or possibly uncertain what the invading thing had been.
“Bad thought,” Caramon finally rumbled. “Sorrow; horror; nothing.”
All three men frowned at this, unable to understand.
“Was it a spell?” Harry asked but Caramon shook his head and Severus murmured silently,
‘No, being a creature of magic, Caramon would recognise any spell or incantation’
“Sorrow; horror; nothing.” Caramon repeated and he seemed so morose.
‘Wait,’ Draco breathed, staring at Caramon in slow understanding. ‘What about a Dementor? I know one couldn’t get in here,’ he said, halting Severus before he could protest, ‘but if one was close enough to the wards…’
‘Then it might affect the moods of those within,’ Severus nodded.
‘But wouldn’t Caramon recognise a Dementor?’ Harry asked.
Severus shrugged, ‘Possibly not. Possibly he would simply feel deep depression - much like a muggle or a squib.’
‘And the ‘nothing’ bit?’ Harry pressed.
Draco sighed sadly, ‘You created him with your imagination and your overflowing magic. Before then, he was nothing; I’m guessing that returning to being nothing is Caramon’s worst nightmare.’
And wasn’t that a sobering thought?
*~*~*