FIC: Changing of the Winds 2/? (Harry/OMC; Eventual Harry/Severus, NC-17)
Title: Changing of the Winds
Author: winoniel
Pairing: Harry/OM, Severus/Harry (eventual)
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Underage sex, slash sex (not in this chapter)
Disclaimer: This story is all mine, but is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Someone outside of the wizarding world gives Harry not only a reason to live, but to live well. Independent!Harry, powerful!Harry, no HBP or DH, though some mild spoilers from those books.
Author’s Notes: This is a story I’d been posting on FF.net. With the possibility looming that it (or my account) may be deleted due to the slash, I am posting it here as well.
Ch. 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ch. 2 Divided Minds
Remus Lupin sighed. Because he shared their condition, he had been dispatched to the werewolf packs not yet pledged to Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore, head of the Order of the Phoenix, had hoped to secure, if not the cooperation of the independent packs, at least their neutrality in the upcoming conflict. After weeks of traveling among them, some of whom were almost feral, he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Because of the fierce nature of his affliction, over which he exercised admirable control, he depended upon the façade he presented to the world of a reserved, rather insubstantial person. That image was currently much easier to display. He hadn’t had a shower since he’d left, he’d eaten little but barely cooked meat, and he was sickened by the cavalier attitudes of some of the younger members of the packs, who quite frankly, had little to trust in the promises of the Ministry. He was despondent about the loss of his old friend Sirius Black, fearful about the new rise of Voldemort, and worried about Harry.
Upon his arrival at Grimmauld Place, he took a long shower, heated up some of Molly Weasley’s stew that he’d found in the cold storage cupboard, then poured himself a snifter of brandy as he sat before the banked fire in the parlor. He had just rested his head against the back of the wingback chair, toying with the idea of floo-calling Dumbledore, when the front door opened. He grasped his wand in his hand, hidden by his sleeve, and affected a posture of repose.
“Lupin,” a dark, low voice drawled. He glanced up at Severus Snape, Potions Master and professor at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Remus nodded slightly, taking in the lank black hair, large, aquiline nose, and sallow skin, and motioned to the other chair and the bottle sitting on the table between the chairs.
“No, thank you.” Snape sneered. “I was supposed to meet the Headmaster here at seven. I will just wait in the-”
“No need, Severus,” Remus interrupted. “If you would be more comfortable waiting here, I was just getting ready to retire upstairs to-”
“Actually,” a third voice, deep and powerful, broke in, “I would really like to hear from both of you.” Albus Dumbledore stepped through the fire, which had just flared green. He was a tall, imposing wizard with piercing bright blue eyes, long silver-white hair and matching beard, wearing an astonishingly vivid blue robe and hat, both adorned with shimmering silver crescent moons and winking yellow stars. Bemused by the hyper-active decorations , Severus and Remus intentionally did not look at each other as they shifted back slightly, making room for their new companion.
Severus, ruffled slightly by the presence of the werewolf, but keeping his expression neutral, sat in the second wingback chair, while Dumbledore conjured a commodious chartreuse and maroon floral-print armchair. Sneering at the overstuffed chair, the dark-haired man poured himself a finger of brandy, and sniffing it appreciatively, took a small sniff. He put on an appearance of inattention while listening circumspectly to Lupin’s report.
After Remus had recounted his efforts with the werewolves, Dumbledore sighed, and turned to Severus. He gazed pensively at his spy before asking, “What news of activity in our opposition, Severus?”
“Nothing of much import, Headmaster, just some details of raids that I have noted for you,” he responded, his eyes lighting upon a roll of parchment he’d laid on the side table. Dumbledore nodded. “There were many healing and strengthening potions that I had to brew. Apparently, the Dark Lord’s possession of Potter was exceedingly draining.” At that, Dumbledore brightened and grew thoughtful.
“There was one other thing, though, that I thought was most curious. The Dark Lord mentioned to me that he was no longer able to sense Potter’s thoughts through his scar. Did his possession of the boy affect the connection that much, or could it be a function of the resulting weakness, do you think?” He was looking at the headmaster, but noted a sharp movement, quickly suppressed, by Lupin. Both he and Dumbledore turned to the shabby, quiet man.
The elderly wizard nodded again. “Both of those hypotheses are valid enough to explore further, but do you have something to add, Remus?”
Remus spread his hands earnestly, hoping to diffuse the situation before it began. “Well, when I learned that Harry’s Occlumency lessons had stopped, I thought that I would give him a couple of books on meditation and mind control.” Noticing Snape opening his mouth to interject, he hurried on, “Remember that he was raised by Muggles, so he wouldn’t have had any instruction on quieting his mind to control his accidental magic. Since he was having such difficulty, I thought that might be a good place to start, and maybe he could pick up something on his own.”
Severus, fuming, thought, Of course, it wasn’t that he didn’t practice, or thought himself above any instruction, it was because the ‘poor thing’ just didn’t understand! It figures that even that fiasco is ‘not his fault,’ trying to ignore the niggling spike of dismay that he’d yet again forgotten about Potter’s Muggle upbringing. His thoughts drifted back to that disastrous first Potions lesson, in which he berated Potter for not understanding common potions botanicals. That error in judgment paled in comparison to those he’d made in later Potions classes, in Occlumency lessons, as well as in their daily interactions. He derided himself yet again for letting his (quite justifiable, in his opinion) hatred of all things Potter to interfere with his ability to gather and process information.
Remus’ next query drew Severus out of his woolgathering. “Professor Dumbledore, has anyone heard from Harry lately? I made him promise to write the Order every three days, so that we would know he was alright.”
Severus scoffed, “And you expect the little ingrate to actually give a thought for others’ concern for his well-being? He’s probably too busy lording it over his relatives to take a moment to write.”
“Actually, Severus,” Remus warily replied, his unease about the reactions of either wizard apparent, “After we sort of threatened Harry’s relatives at King’s Cross, I was concerned that he might bear the brunt of their displeasure, so I would really like to make contact with him.”
“Threatened, Lupin? Did you also fall for the boy’s tales of woe about his mistreatment? Can’t you figure out how he has manipulated you, like he has all of his fans-” Severus snarled, before he was cut short by Dumbledore’s quiet, yet piercing voice.
“Threatened, Lupin?” The atmosphere in the room shifted to controlled menace. Severus shifted uneasily, shaken by the change in the older wizard. Lupin, on the other hand, demonstrated that disconcerting Gryffindor courage when he looked Dumbledore in the eye and said calmly, “Yes, Headmaster, threatened. It was Alastor’s idea, after the Weasley twins shared some of their knowledge of that household, but I agreed with it. My only concern was whether it would be effective. Has anyone heard from Harry?”
Dumbledore, his eyes most decidedly NOT twinkling while still gazing intently at Remus, answered. “Apparently, Harry was unaware that you would make such a proposition at the station, and had previously made arrangements for Hedwig to stay at the Weasleys for the summer, to ensure that she would get enough proper food. Since I had asked his friends, out of concern for his security, to not contact him, and I have wards that deflect any owls from people outside of his circle of friends, he would not have received any owls that he could use to send any messages. However, my wards tell me that he is unharmed.”
Severus gaped at Lupin, fixed on the first part of the Headmaster’s statement. “I’m not sure what you mean by proper food. I am not unaware that Potter seems to care for his familiar. Is the arrogant little monster so stupid as to pass on only the rich type of treats with which his family spoils him?”
Remus snorted, “Treats? Spoiled? It’s about time that you tore the blinders from your eyes, Severus. Perhaps you don’t remember Petunia, Lily’s sister, but she hates magic, everything that has to do with it, and in particular, she hates Harry. Her husband and she both fear and hate Harry, but that doesn’t keep them from mistreating him, working him for hours every day, while at the same time barely feeding him, and keeping him locked in his room the rest of the time.”
Severus did indeed remember Petunia Evans Dursley. As a child she was inordinately jealous of Lily’s magical abilities, and after failing in her attempt to convince Dumbledore to let her attend Hogwarts with her sister, became almost rabid in her dislike for her sister, insisting to outsiders that she was an only child. She tried as much as she could to pretend that magic didn’t exist. While Severus could care less about the emotional well-being of the Boy-Who-Lived, if he was in her care with no recourse to aid-
“Headmaster,” Severus spoke quietly, unwilling to appear in the least in agreement with the werewolf on anything, but concerned. He reminded himself that it was only because of his promise to keep Lily’s son safe. “If the boy has no way of contacting anyone, perhaps a visit from you would not be amiss. As I’d mentioned, the Dark Lord cannot reach you through him at present.”
“Are you sure, Severus, that the topic was not deliberately directed at you with the intent of redirecting our efforts, and thereby continue to use young Harry?” Dumbledore asked gently, thought the twinkle did not return to his eyes.
“Professor, I can go and visit Harry,” Remus volunteered.
“I don’t believe that this is necessary. As I said, the wards-” Dumbledore.
“Please, Professor, it would really relieve my mind.” Both Severus and Dumbledore were taken aback. Severus wondered, Is Lupin finally growing a backbone? He said aloud, “Why the rush, Lupin? In fact, why the vehemence now? Could it be guilt for not standing up all those years ago?”
Remus winced, acknowledging Severus’ cutting observation by looking directly in the taller man’s eyes. “Actually, I feel as if I have been standing down most of my life, and quite frankly, I’m sick of myself. Here is a young person who really has no one who puts him first in his life, and even I have been away on Order business while he has been suffering from the aftermath of Sirius’ death. I am feeling guilty more for not standing up for him, but yes, there is residual guilt from my past.”
“At any rate, Remus, you are barely able to keep yourself awake, so your visit will have to wait for a few days, until you have recovered from your extraordinary efforts on behalf of the Order.” Dumbledore stood, alerting the others to the fact that the meeting was over. Remus stood, as well, swaying slightly from exhaustion, but again, importuning the older wizard. “Sir, could you then drop by, or send someone else from the Order?”
Dumbledore’s voice sharpened, his frustration with Remus’ doggedness growing. (1) “As I said earlier, I cannot chance my proximity with young Harry. Severus, would you pop over and make sure that he is STILL” glancing over at Remus, “alright?”
Severus paused, feeling manipulated yet again by the leader of the Order. He was conflicted between his loathing for the spawn of James Potter, his school-days tormenter, and his very real obligation to ensure the safety of Lily’s child. He had this clear image of the self-important, inconsiderate Potter miscreant that was at odds with what he’d learned that evening. He didn’t relish more mental dissonance, but it seemed his duty was clear.
Bowing his head slightly, he replied. “Yes, of course, Headmaster, immediately.” Visualizing the location used by the Order guards last summer, he turned, and as he disapparated, he heard Remus’ pathetically grateful voice, “Thank you, Professor.”
TBC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(1) Sorry, couldn’t resist ‘doggedness’!
Ch. 3
Author: winoniel
Pairing: Harry/OM, Severus/Harry (eventual)
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): Underage sex, slash sex (not in this chapter)
Disclaimer: This story is all mine, but is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Someone outside of the wizarding world gives Harry not only a reason to live, but to live well. Independent!Harry, powerful!Harry, no HBP or DH, though some mild spoilers from those books.
Author’s Notes: This is a story I’d been posting on FF.net. With the possibility looming that it (or my account) may be deleted due to the slash, I am posting it here as well.
Ch. 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ch. 2 Divided Minds
Remus Lupin sighed. Because he shared their condition, he had been dispatched to the werewolf packs not yet pledged to Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore, head of the Order of the Phoenix, had hoped to secure, if not the cooperation of the independent packs, at least their neutrality in the upcoming conflict. After weeks of traveling among them, some of whom were almost feral, he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Because of the fierce nature of his affliction, over which he exercised admirable control, he depended upon the façade he presented to the world of a reserved, rather insubstantial person. That image was currently much easier to display. He hadn’t had a shower since he’d left, he’d eaten little but barely cooked meat, and he was sickened by the cavalier attitudes of some of the younger members of the packs, who quite frankly, had little to trust in the promises of the Ministry. He was despondent about the loss of his old friend Sirius Black, fearful about the new rise of Voldemort, and worried about Harry.
Upon his arrival at Grimmauld Place, he took a long shower, heated up some of Molly Weasley’s stew that he’d found in the cold storage cupboard, then poured himself a snifter of brandy as he sat before the banked fire in the parlor. He had just rested his head against the back of the wingback chair, toying with the idea of floo-calling Dumbledore, when the front door opened. He grasped his wand in his hand, hidden by his sleeve, and affected a posture of repose.
“Lupin,” a dark, low voice drawled. He glanced up at Severus Snape, Potions Master and professor at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Remus nodded slightly, taking in the lank black hair, large, aquiline nose, and sallow skin, and motioned to the other chair and the bottle sitting on the table between the chairs.
“No, thank you.” Snape sneered. “I was supposed to meet the Headmaster here at seven. I will just wait in the-”
“No need, Severus,” Remus interrupted. “If you would be more comfortable waiting here, I was just getting ready to retire upstairs to-”
“Actually,” a third voice, deep and powerful, broke in, “I would really like to hear from both of you.” Albus Dumbledore stepped through the fire, which had just flared green. He was a tall, imposing wizard with piercing bright blue eyes, long silver-white hair and matching beard, wearing an astonishingly vivid blue robe and hat, both adorned with shimmering silver crescent moons and winking yellow stars. Bemused by the hyper-active decorations , Severus and Remus intentionally did not look at each other as they shifted back slightly, making room for their new companion.
Severus, ruffled slightly by the presence of the werewolf, but keeping his expression neutral, sat in the second wingback chair, while Dumbledore conjured a commodious chartreuse and maroon floral-print armchair. Sneering at the overstuffed chair, the dark-haired man poured himself a finger of brandy, and sniffing it appreciatively, took a small sniff. He put on an appearance of inattention while listening circumspectly to Lupin’s report.
After Remus had recounted his efforts with the werewolves, Dumbledore sighed, and turned to Severus. He gazed pensively at his spy before asking, “What news of activity in our opposition, Severus?”
“Nothing of much import, Headmaster, just some details of raids that I have noted for you,” he responded, his eyes lighting upon a roll of parchment he’d laid on the side table. Dumbledore nodded. “There were many healing and strengthening potions that I had to brew. Apparently, the Dark Lord’s possession of Potter was exceedingly draining.” At that, Dumbledore brightened and grew thoughtful.
“There was one other thing, though, that I thought was most curious. The Dark Lord mentioned to me that he was no longer able to sense Potter’s thoughts through his scar. Did his possession of the boy affect the connection that much, or could it be a function of the resulting weakness, do you think?” He was looking at the headmaster, but noted a sharp movement, quickly suppressed, by Lupin. Both he and Dumbledore turned to the shabby, quiet man.
The elderly wizard nodded again. “Both of those hypotheses are valid enough to explore further, but do you have something to add, Remus?”
Remus spread his hands earnestly, hoping to diffuse the situation before it began. “Well, when I learned that Harry’s Occlumency lessons had stopped, I thought that I would give him a couple of books on meditation and mind control.” Noticing Snape opening his mouth to interject, he hurried on, “Remember that he was raised by Muggles, so he wouldn’t have had any instruction on quieting his mind to control his accidental magic. Since he was having such difficulty, I thought that might be a good place to start, and maybe he could pick up something on his own.”
Severus, fuming, thought, Of course, it wasn’t that he didn’t practice, or thought himself above any instruction, it was because the ‘poor thing’ just didn’t understand! It figures that even that fiasco is ‘not his fault,’ trying to ignore the niggling spike of dismay that he’d yet again forgotten about Potter’s Muggle upbringing. His thoughts drifted back to that disastrous first Potions lesson, in which he berated Potter for not understanding common potions botanicals. That error in judgment paled in comparison to those he’d made in later Potions classes, in Occlumency lessons, as well as in their daily interactions. He derided himself yet again for letting his (quite justifiable, in his opinion) hatred of all things Potter to interfere with his ability to gather and process information.
Remus’ next query drew Severus out of his woolgathering. “Professor Dumbledore, has anyone heard from Harry lately? I made him promise to write the Order every three days, so that we would know he was alright.”
Severus scoffed, “And you expect the little ingrate to actually give a thought for others’ concern for his well-being? He’s probably too busy lording it over his relatives to take a moment to write.”
“Actually, Severus,” Remus warily replied, his unease about the reactions of either wizard apparent, “After we sort of threatened Harry’s relatives at King’s Cross, I was concerned that he might bear the brunt of their displeasure, so I would really like to make contact with him.”
“Threatened, Lupin? Did you also fall for the boy’s tales of woe about his mistreatment? Can’t you figure out how he has manipulated you, like he has all of his fans-” Severus snarled, before he was cut short by Dumbledore’s quiet, yet piercing voice.
“Threatened, Lupin?” The atmosphere in the room shifted to controlled menace. Severus shifted uneasily, shaken by the change in the older wizard. Lupin, on the other hand, demonstrated that disconcerting Gryffindor courage when he looked Dumbledore in the eye and said calmly, “Yes, Headmaster, threatened. It was Alastor’s idea, after the Weasley twins shared some of their knowledge of that household, but I agreed with it. My only concern was whether it would be effective. Has anyone heard from Harry?”
Dumbledore, his eyes most decidedly NOT twinkling while still gazing intently at Remus, answered. “Apparently, Harry was unaware that you would make such a proposition at the station, and had previously made arrangements for Hedwig to stay at the Weasleys for the summer, to ensure that she would get enough proper food. Since I had asked his friends, out of concern for his security, to not contact him, and I have wards that deflect any owls from people outside of his circle of friends, he would not have received any owls that he could use to send any messages. However, my wards tell me that he is unharmed.”
Severus gaped at Lupin, fixed on the first part of the Headmaster’s statement. “I’m not sure what you mean by proper food. I am not unaware that Potter seems to care for his familiar. Is the arrogant little monster so stupid as to pass on only the rich type of treats with which his family spoils him?”
Remus snorted, “Treats? Spoiled? It’s about time that you tore the blinders from your eyes, Severus. Perhaps you don’t remember Petunia, Lily’s sister, but she hates magic, everything that has to do with it, and in particular, she hates Harry. Her husband and she both fear and hate Harry, but that doesn’t keep them from mistreating him, working him for hours every day, while at the same time barely feeding him, and keeping him locked in his room the rest of the time.”
Severus did indeed remember Petunia Evans Dursley. As a child she was inordinately jealous of Lily’s magical abilities, and after failing in her attempt to convince Dumbledore to let her attend Hogwarts with her sister, became almost rabid in her dislike for her sister, insisting to outsiders that she was an only child. She tried as much as she could to pretend that magic didn’t exist. While Severus could care less about the emotional well-being of the Boy-Who-Lived, if he was in her care with no recourse to aid-
“Headmaster,” Severus spoke quietly, unwilling to appear in the least in agreement with the werewolf on anything, but concerned. He reminded himself that it was only because of his promise to keep Lily’s son safe. “If the boy has no way of contacting anyone, perhaps a visit from you would not be amiss. As I’d mentioned, the Dark Lord cannot reach you through him at present.”
“Are you sure, Severus, that the topic was not deliberately directed at you with the intent of redirecting our efforts, and thereby continue to use young Harry?” Dumbledore asked gently, thought the twinkle did not return to his eyes.
“Professor, I can go and visit Harry,” Remus volunteered.
“I don’t believe that this is necessary. As I said, the wards-” Dumbledore.
“Please, Professor, it would really relieve my mind.” Both Severus and Dumbledore were taken aback. Severus wondered, Is Lupin finally growing a backbone? He said aloud, “Why the rush, Lupin? In fact, why the vehemence now? Could it be guilt for not standing up all those years ago?”
Remus winced, acknowledging Severus’ cutting observation by looking directly in the taller man’s eyes. “Actually, I feel as if I have been standing down most of my life, and quite frankly, I’m sick of myself. Here is a young person who really has no one who puts him first in his life, and even I have been away on Order business while he has been suffering from the aftermath of Sirius’ death. I am feeling guilty more for not standing up for him, but yes, there is residual guilt from my past.”
“At any rate, Remus, you are barely able to keep yourself awake, so your visit will have to wait for a few days, until you have recovered from your extraordinary efforts on behalf of the Order.” Dumbledore stood, alerting the others to the fact that the meeting was over. Remus stood, as well, swaying slightly from exhaustion, but again, importuning the older wizard. “Sir, could you then drop by, or send someone else from the Order?”
Dumbledore’s voice sharpened, his frustration with Remus’ doggedness growing. (1) “As I said earlier, I cannot chance my proximity with young Harry. Severus, would you pop over and make sure that he is STILL” glancing over at Remus, “alright?”
Severus paused, feeling manipulated yet again by the leader of the Order. He was conflicted between his loathing for the spawn of James Potter, his school-days tormenter, and his very real obligation to ensure the safety of Lily’s child. He had this clear image of the self-important, inconsiderate Potter miscreant that was at odds with what he’d learned that evening. He didn’t relish more mental dissonance, but it seemed his duty was clear.
Bowing his head slightly, he replied. “Yes, of course, Headmaster, immediately.” Visualizing the location used by the Order guards last summer, he turned, and as he disapparated, he heard Remus’ pathetically grateful voice, “Thank you, Professor.”
TBC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(1) Sorry, couldn’t resist ‘doggedness’!
Ch. 3