[Children of the Sun series]: Silver Shadow Snake, gen, PG-13, 17/?
Part Sixteen.
Part One.
Title: Silver Shadow Snake (17/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Gen other than background Lucius/Narcissa
Content Notes: For this part, mild angst
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry wasn’t sure when he first started noticing the odd doubleness of Professor Quirrell’s familiar, but he had no doubt it was there. And since no one else was doing anything about it, he thought it was probably up to him.
Author’s Notes: This is the beginning of a longer story arc, which will be updated every Saturday. You should read the other fics in the series first: Children of the Sun series.
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Part Seventeen
“Do you understand why you are here?”
Hermione looked around the room. Honestly, on a first glance she definitely couldn’t understand. Harry was there, and Ron, and Draco, and Professor Snape. But not Neville, and not some of the other people who she knew had worried about Harry or become his friends, like Cedric or Cormac.
“No, Headmistress,” she said. A few of the others murmured the same, but Draco sat up with Kali flapping her wings importantly on his shoulder and gave the right answer.
“Because we’re the ones who have helped Harry the most with trying to make sure that Quirrell gets help with his possession.”
“Professor Quirrell, Mr. Malfoy. But that is correct.”
“I’m sorry, Headmistress. But I’m not going to call someone ‘professor’ who tried to murder two of my friends.” Draco’s jaw was so stubborn that Hermione thought rocks would crack on it.
Headmistress McGonagall frowned at him, but didn’t say anything else about it. She turned to Professor Snape. “Do you want to explain to them what we have decided to do about the possession ritual, Professor Snape?”
Hermione watched as the man glanced carefully around the room, as if studying all of them for signs of backing out. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded and said brusquely, “We now have the backing of the Hogwarts staff. We can gather the ingredients openly, while they will keep Quirinus imprisoned. We did think of turning him over to the Aurors, but either they would simply cast him into prison, which would do nothing to resolve his possessed state, or they would mess up somehow and manage to release him.”
“What about Madam Bones?” Harry asked. He looked thoughtful, and he was touching Golden’s head as if strength was flowing up to him from his snake’s neck. Hermione could understand that. She’d had to cuddle with Regina for a while when she found out that one of the books she’d dropped when Professor Quirrell had chased her had a bent page.
“Madam Bones is so strictly devoted to the letter of the law that I fear what she would say in response to the actions we have already taken.”
Headmistress McGonagall looked as if she disapproved, again, but not as if she disagreed with Professor Snape. “And there is the fact that she is handling the former Headmaster’s trial, and I would not wish to distract her from that.”
Hermione blinked a little. She knew that other kids broke the rules all the time, but this was the first time that she had seen other adults breaking the rules.
Wait, no, that wasn’t true. Professor Dumbledore had already broken a lot of rules; it was just that people usually made excuses for him because he had a golden phoenix. Sometimes, she supposed, breaking rules was necessary, even for people who were professors or Headmasters of schools. Otherwise, how could they confront the other adults who thought it was all right?
Professor Snape and Headmistress McGonagall exchanged a few looks and then turned back to them. “In the meantime, we can take over gathering the ingredients for the ritual and making sure that nothing happens to Professor Quirrell or his familiar while they are in our custody. We do ask that you give us the notes that you’ve made and any useful books that you’ve found.”
Harry glanced up from touching Golden. “But what happens when you begin the ritual, Headmistress?”
“I’m afraid that I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Potter.”
Hermione winced, because that tone would make her shrink down and stop asking questions at once, but it didn’t seem to intimidate Harry. “I just mean that I read about the ritual. It has to be sincere. It has to have at least one person in it who forgives the possessed person for what they did. I don’t know if you or Professor Snape can do that. Or Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. But I can.”
“Mr. Potter-”
“You will not be attending the ritual.” That was Professor Snape, and he did sound almost exactly like Hermione’s mother. Hermione found herself bristling before she thought about it.
“But that’s a requirement of the ritual,” Harry said patiently. “Sometimes it could be the possessed person themselves. I read about that. They can forgive themselves for making the mistake that caused the possession in the first place. But that only works if they want to be free of the spirit. I don’t think Professor Quirrell does, does he? So he needs someone there who he wronged and who can forgive him.”
“I could be that person,” Hermione tried to volunteer, but she shrank back again when she saw the looks that the professors were giving her.
“Neither of you will be that person. This ritual is no place for children,” said the Headmistress.
“But can you forgive Professor Quirrell? If not, then the ritual will fail, and all the ingredients and gathering and buying that you did will be for nothing.” Harry leaned forwards earnestly. “Please, think about it, professors. Can you forgive him?”
“I can’t,” Ron muttered. Hermione glared at him. No one had asked him.
“I-would find it extremely hard to forgive him,” Professor Snape said after a moment. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth so that she didn’t snort or say, “Of course you couldn’t!” Professor Snape was reaching up as if to make sure that his own viper familiar was still around his throat. “And it is true that I do not want the ritual to fail.”
“Severus.”
“Hear me out, Minerva. Can we be sure that the ritual will do what is required if we do not have someone there who can forgive him? Dare we ignore the requirements because we do not like having overlooked them so far?”
“That is not the reason I don’t want Mr. Potter there.” The Headmistress was actually on her feet, with Malkin all fluffed up at her feet. Hermione tried to stay still. “The ritual is too dangerous for a child!”
“It shouldn’t be,” Harry said, sounding a little surprised. “I mean, the part of the person who gives forgiveness is just to speak the words and then stand off to the side, out of the ritual circle. I only planned on being part of the circle in the first place because I thought we would have to do it secretly.”
“You should have come to me from the beginning,” the Headmistress started.
“Hush, Minerva,” Professor Snape said. He was looking at Harry with a complex expression that Hermione tried to figure out and couldn’t. “You really think that we could conduct the ritual and not have it be dangerous for anyone there, Mr. Potter?”
“Severus!”
Hermione put her hand over her mouth again. She’d been about to laugh because she was thinking that Headmistress McGonagall didn’t really have anything else to say.
“Of course, sir.” Harry looked confused. “I read all about it. The circle contains the possessed person and all the magic. The people who are trying to feed the possessed person the potions and burn the herbs step in and out one by one. The other people who are helping just stay outside.”
“If there are gaps in the circle, what is to stop the spirit possessing Professor Quirrell from escaping?”
“They’re warded with special stones,” Harry said, blinking at the Headmistress. “The kind that you need a body to pass. I know I read about that, Headmistress.”
Hermione just wouldn’t be able to take her hand off her mouth for a while. She wanted to laugh. The Headmistress looked flabbergasted. Regina chittered on Hermione’s shoulder, bringing her head down and rubbing it against Hermione’s neck to hide her own version of laughter.
“Then it seems as if we could allow our well-read students to be part of this without endangering them,” Professor Snape says after almost a full minute of silence.
“This is a matter for adults.”
“And none of us noticed as fast as Mr. Potter did that there was something wrong with Quirinus, despite working with him for years. Do you really think that we can afford to neglect their aid?”
“I can make myself mistress of this ritual’s workings soon enough.”
“That is not actually the same as dispensing with their aid.”
The professors glared at each other for a while. Hermione blinked some more. Adults arguing like this wasn’t something she’d encountered in the Muggle world, either.
But things were different in the magical world. Hermione gave a thoughtful glance at Harry, who was cradling Golden’s head in his lap now while the rest of Golden draped down the chair, and watching both professors. Harry’s presence changed things.
It could unbalance them, too. But Hermione knew that Harry was aware of the danger and was working as hard as he could on making sure that he made enough changes that, in the end, people wouldn’t stare at him with awe in their eyes anymore and accept his word without blinking.
If they can just do it for as long as we need to change the world…
Only much later did Hermione realize that she’d thought of herself as an immovable part of that “we.”
*
The knock came on the office door exactly when Severus had expected it. He opened it, and Harry stepped inside and said, “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes.” Severus had had Shadowstriker deliver the message. Even if there was the chance that Minerva, if she saw him communicating with Harry, would think it was about the ritual, and most other people would think it was detention, he wanted to keep this private. It was so intensely personal that it made his shoulders prickle.
“What’s the matter, Professor Snape? Did you hear something about Dumbledore’s trial or something?”
“No. I came to a realization of something I wanted to do today, and I needed some time to come to terms with it. I want you to hear me out now, rather than trying to argue me out of it.”
Harry blinked. “Okay, sir.” Golden watched him with intelligent eyes from Harry’s side.
Severus nodded. “You remember that in older times, when there were more of you, people with golden familiars were addressed as Lords.”
“You can’t mean-”
“I want to swear a vow of loyalty to you.”
“You shouldn’t,” Harry said immediately, and his eyes were wide. He took a step backwards, only for Golden to gently push his nose into the middle of Harry’s back and urge him forwards again. Harry still shook his head. “What happens if something happens to me? You would be compelled to defend me. Or you would go down beside me. I’m going to do my best, sir, but people are still going to fight me. I don’t want you to be affected by that!”
“It is because you don’t want me to be affected by it that I wish to swear the vow.”
“Huh?”
Severus smiled a little. Harry was young enough that he didn’t know all the nuances of politics no matter how hard he tried to pretend.
And with Severus at his side, he might survive long enough to learn them. That was one of the many reasons that Severus intended to swear this vow, although not the only important one.
“You would not demand anything from me in the way that Voldemort or Dumbledore did,” Severus said, and drew his wand. “You need not command me. But are you going to say that I cannot protect you or help you?”
Harry looked stumped. “Of course not, sir. I just don’t want you to regret this later.”
Perhaps it was sadistic of Severus to use Harry’s own respect for free will against him, but he would for now. “Then permit me to swear the vow. I will not make it binding enough that I would not be free to act against you, should that be necessary.”
Harry took a moment to work that out, then nodded, his face troubled. “Okay. But-please don’t vow that you’re going to call me Lord all the time, okay, sir? I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Severus had never intended to make the title part of it. What mattered in Harry was his quality, not his title. “Of course not.”
He lifted his wand, and Shadowstriker reared up on his neck and flicked out his tongue, touching it to the wand and then retracting it, repeating the motion constantly as Severus spoke his words. “I vow loyalty to Harry Potter. I will protect him and help him and advise him for as long as he seems to need me. I will never betray him to his enemies. I will never lie to him. I will act in his best interests to the best of my ability.”
The air filled with the soft silver glow that always appeared whenever Shadowstriker was heavily involved in his magic. Severus smiled a little and snapped his wand forwards, the gesture to complete the vow. It settled around him in a motion like a rope wrapping him, and the coils tightened for a second. Then they faded from sight.
Severus could still feel their pressure on his magic, which was part of the reason he had wanted to swear a vow. Much as he hated to admit it, he needed-help, of a kind, to keep himself on a narrow path.
Perhaps one day I will not.
“Why did you want to do that, sir?” Harry whispered as the last of the silver faded away.
“Because I want to see the world you envision come true, and I can help you do that,” Severus said honestly. “And because I want to be a better person, myself, and this is a chance to do so.”
Harry stared at him intently, then nodded.
“My lord,” Severus added.
“You said-”
“Not all the time. But you will need to get used to this level of respect, Harry, especially since you intend to utilize it until you can convince others that it is not such a good idea to revere golden familiars.”
Harry’s mouth tightened. Then he nodded.
Severus fought to keep from laughing aloud, and not at Harry’s distress. Even with the chains of the vow binding his magic, he felt lighter, freer, than he had in years.
Chapter Eighteen.
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