Prophecy Child

Severus stormed through the Dark Lord’s manor, face like thunder. ‘Where is Black?’ he spat at a group of people on the stairs. Several fingers pointed silently, and Severus strode away, relishing the slightly fearful looks he received.

He flung the door to the sitting room open, causing it to bang against the wall, then immediately regretted it when he saw Harry dive for cover underneath a couch. A heavy weight began to weigh on him, same as last time, and he felt the near overwhelming urge to sleep. His anger fought against it though, as he made to cross the room and apologise to the terrified child.

He barely made it a step before he was stopped.

Sirius Black stood in his path, eyes burning furiously. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?!’ he hissed, and Severus felt a fresh flare of anger at seeing the man.

He kept his wits about him just enough to growl, ‘Outside. Now.’ before he spun on his heel, robes flaring dramatically behind him. He might be ready to hex Black within an inch of his life, but he need not do it in front of Harry.

Severus reached the wide-open front doors and continued out to the front lawn area, whirling around to face the doors – and Sirius Black, coming stiffly down the steps. Black kept his pace measured and steady as he approached, hands hanging by his sides.

‘Severus, what the fuck is going on?’

Severus’ wand was in his hand in a flash, and he whipped a hex at Black, who clearly saw it coming but made no move to defend himself. The hex hit him square on, far harder than Severus actually intended it to be, and Sirius flew backwards, landing flat on his back, the air knocked from his lungs. He lay still for several agonising seconds, in which Severus immediately and fiercely regretted his actions, before he slowly rolled to his side and curled up, protecting his injured ribs.

Severus stared for a moment longer, before hurrying to Sirius’ side, crouching down and muttering the counter curse to the spell that was designed to bruise and break ribs.

‘Ow,’ gasped Sirius, blinking tears from his eyes.

Another flash of anger ran through Severus, who stood abruptly and snarled, ‘Why didn’t you shield, you imbecile?! You should have blocked that easily!’

‘I don’t have a wand,’ Sirius replied, voice still hoarse and whispery.

Oh. Right. No wand.

Oops.

Severus crouched down again, wand in his hand and pointed tentatively at Sirius’ ribs. ‘Shall – shall I cast a numbing spell?’ Severus asked, quiet and sheepish.

Sirius gave a slight nod, relaxing from his tight protective curl when the spell took effect. ‘What was that for?’ he finally asked.

‘Lupin. Sixth year.’ Severus tried to keep his voice level, even as his anger yet again threatened to take over.

‘What about him?’

‘What about him? What about when you sent me to be killed by a fucking werewolf?’ Severus hissed venomously.

‘What? No, I didn’t.’ Sirius replied blankly.

‘I think I would remember coming face to face with a werewolf, Black.’ Severus ground out.

‘I have no doubt that you would. Why do you think I sent you to him? I would never risk Remus’ life like that. If he’d hurt anyone, they would have killed him. He was my best friend.’

Severus blinked. ‘Potter is your best friend.’

‘Was. They both were. Remus might still be, I don’t know.’

‘Not Potter?’

‘He left me to rot in Azkaban, knowing full well what actually happened that day. Dumbledore too. That’s what I wanted your help with – destroying them.’ Sirius’ voice took on a cold edge, despite the lingering breathlessness from his crash landing.

Severus sat back on his heels. This was… too much at once. His mind whirled in confused, tangled circles. ‘Go back. You didn’t send me to Lupin on a full moon in sixth year?’

‘Hell no! I might have been an impulsive idiot, but not that impulsive or that idiotic. I’m a little insulted that you think I am. Was. Whatever.’

Severus’ brow furrowed. ‘I can clearly remember you telling me to go to the Whomping Willow and how to press the knot at the base of the tree to get into the tunnel.’

Sirius frowned. ‘In sixth year? Definitely not. We didn’t know about the Whomping Willow tunnel till seventh year. We used to just run along the edge of the forest then slip out the main gate to go to the Shack.’

‘But I remember it.’ Severus insisted.

‘Then someone has been in your head.’ Sirius said slowly. ‘Because we definitely didn’t use the tunnel before seventh year.’

‘You want me to Legilimise you?’ Tom asked blankly. ‘What for?’

‘We think someone has tampered with his memories of… a certain event.’ Sirius answered.

Severus stayed silent. He felt sick at the very thought. He had no doubt it was Dumbledore, rummaging around in his mind. If he had done it then, he must surely have done it since.

Oh gods.

Oh no.

What if he knew?

All of it – what if he knew?! About Harry, and Tom, and Sirius, and…

Severus felt a hand grip the back of his head, dark brown eyes meeting his black, and the strange feeling of his stomach swooping and his vision fuzzing for a moment before it settled. He carefully tugged at his mental barriers, allowing his Lord to enter his mind fully.

‘Breathe, Severus.’ He Lord was instructing him, one hand still on the back of his neck, one hand pressed to his chest. Severus felt himself slowly calming, his Lord taking careful, subtle control of his emotions, until he was fully calm again. ‘Alright?’ His Lord asked softly.

‘Yes, my Lord.’ Severus answered. ‘Sorry.’

‘No need for that. What caused you to panic?’

Severus felt the rising tide of his emotions build, then dissipate again as his Lord helped him control the surges of fear and panic. ‘I think Dumbledore tampered with my memories. If he’s done it before, he’s no doubt done it since. What if he knows – everything? Everything that has happened here these last weeks – with you, with Harry, with Sirius… What if he is looking into my head, then wiping my memory of it away?’

The Dark Lord’s fingers twitched slightly on the back of Severus’ neck, but he held Severus’ eye calmly. ‘I do not believe he would be capable of that. Your Occlumency is remarkable, Severus – for him to breach your mind, and then leave no trace for you to find, even by accident… I do not think it possible. However, I can look at the memory and go from there, see if I find any threads to pull. Think of whatever it is that started whatever that scene was between you and Sirius earlier.’

Severus blushed, not realising that his Lord had witnessed his… tantrum? That felt too demeaning. His –

‘Focus, Severus.’ The Dark Lord chided gently.

Right. Stop thinking about that – remember facing Lupin in the tunnel.

Severus’ knees began to quake, as his Lord worked hard to help manage his emotions. The fear had simply been so overwhelming, so visceral and intense, that it was an effort for the two of them in tandem to wrangle it back under control.

‘Think back earlier, Severus. Not meeting the wolf – when you were told where to go. Think of that moment.’

Severus breathed carefully, reaching a little further back in his memories. The sight of Sirius Blacks’ teenaged face, with his long dark hair and long dark lashes faded into clarity. Severus tried to ignore the rising feelings of attraction and shame and lust and anger he felt at seeing the face of his childhood bully/crush. Having his Lord in his mind as he felt those things…

‘Calm down, Severus. No cause for embarrassment.’ His Lord murmured. ‘Focus on the important part.’

Sirius’ handsome face as he tugged Severus aside in a dungeon hallway, hand clasped on Severus’ elbow as he sneered and taunted, setting Severus up to go and meet a werewolf by ‘accident’.

Severus could feel his Lord probing carefully at the memory, looking for loose threads to follow, to unravel the false memory.

Only it wasn’t a false memory.

‘My Lord.’ Severus started.

The Dark Lord paused, turning his attention back to the scene. ‘What is it? Have you found something?’

‘It isn’t him. It’s not Sirius Black.’ Severus said, voice flat and hollow.

The Dark Lord looked closely, but he was unable to find a flaw in Sirius Black’s figure, his face, his voice… ‘Are you certain?’

‘It’s not him.’ Severus said a little more firmly. ‘It’s not Sirius Black. Sirius never touched me. Whoever this is, they are holding my elbow. Sirius never touched me before – before Azkaban. Not even in a fight. This was the only time. This isn’t Sirius Black.’

The Dark Lord contemplated the scene a moment longer, then nodded. He gently began to extricate himself from Severus’ mind, careful not to leave a headache behind.

In the sitting room again, various faces looked at them in curiosity, but none as intent as Sirius.

‘I’m sorry, Sirius. It was your face, but it wasn’t you.’ Severus said quietly.

Sirius looked at him flatly. ‘Of course it wasn’t. I would never do something like that.’

‘Likely Polyjuice,’ Tom suggested. ‘There were no imperfections to indicate a glamour.’

‘Someone Polyjuiced as me to send you to Remus to be killed?’ Sirius asked, voice strangely flat.

‘It appears likely, however strange and confusing that may be.’ Tom replied.

‘Who on earth would do that? What possible result could they hope for?’ asked Lucius.

‘Other than my death?’ Severus asked wryly, then stopped, stiffening. ‘I was forced to take a Vow afterwards, not to reveal anything that had happened.’

‘Dumbledore.’ Growled Tom, eyes flashing.

‘Then who did he send to do his dirty work?’ asked Lucius.

‘Hello, all!’ called Marius cheerfully, as he entered the sitting room. ‘Ready for some –  what’s going on?’

‘We have just discovered some sort of plot from several years ago and we are trying to make sense of it.’ Lucius explained politely when nobody else spoke up for a long moment. He gave a brief outline of the situation, and Marius nodded thoughtfully.

‘Have you had Harry take a look?’ Marius asked.

‘Have we had Harry look at a memory of a werewolf about to attack?’ Sirius asked sarcastically.

Marius gave him an unimpressed look. ‘At whoever was using the Polyjuice.’

Blank looks met his statement.

‘Didn’t you say Harry can see magic?’

‘Yes?’ Sirius replied, more a question than an answer.

‘So, he can see magical auras, can he not? Have him look at the person and see if he can describe their aura, or if he recognises them.’

More blank looks, before Tom suddenly snapped his fingers. Miggy appeared, then promptly disappeared again to fetch Harry and Carrick, who had gone for a walk in the south garden.

Harry was gripping Carrick’s hand tightly when Miggy popped them into the sitting room, carefully avoiding Severus as he tried to shuffle behind Carrick’s legs.

Severus felt a pit of something hot and unpleasant in his stomach burning at him. ‘Harry,’ he said softly, crouching down. ‘Harry, I am very sorry for my behaviour earlier. I did not mean to frighten you. I was very angry at something I thought Sirius had done, but it turns out I was wrong there as well. I’m sorry, Harry. I did not mean to harm you or make you feel unsafe.’

Harry contemplated Severus from the corner of his eye, before shuffling over to Sirius and pointedly laying a hand over his ribs.

Sirius shivered, before gently clasping Harry’s hand and moving it away. ‘I’m alright, pup. Nothing a bit of rest won’t fix. Severus didn’t mean it, and he helped numb it after he apologised.’

Harry’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Severus, clearly unimpressed but unwilling to show it too baldly.

‘Harry, we hoped you might be able to help us with something. Severus has a memory of Sirius doing something bad, only now we think it wasn’t Sirius, but somebody pretending. Do you think you might have a look and see if it is really Sirius, or an imposter?’ Tom asked. 

Harry shuffled until he was beside Tom, reaching for his hand, then nodded.

‘Can you look in Severus’ eye so he can show you?’ Tom prompted. Harry’s grip tightened and he ducked his head nervously. Severus grimaced, shame washing through him at scaring the poor boy.

‘Perhaps you could look at Tom’s memory instead.’ Severus offered voice lower and gentler than many had ever heard. ‘I believe I have some trust to earn back.’

Harry gave him a glance and a twitch of his lips in acknowledgement, then looked up into Tom’s eyes trustingly. Tom blinked back the tears that threatened at the easy trust, and focused on bringing forth the memory and gently pushing it forward, holding it almost between them. Harry was too young to look into another’s mind reliably, and he was too young to have a memory pushed into his head – stray thoughts were one thing, but the details of a memory were too much for a developing child’s brain to handle.

Harry’s eyes looked slightly unfocused as he looked up at Tom, but they moved over the image Tom held – Sirius holding Severus’ elbow, mid sneer and mid word, while Severus glared, cold and fearful, at him. After just a few seconds, Harry broke eye contact, blinking quickly.

‘Not Paddy. Bad Father Christmas liar man, wrong magic. Lives with James and red lady. Bad man wearing Paddy’s face. Liar.’ He signed quickly, a scowl on his face.

Marius quickly translated, some of those signs too quick for the adult learners to keep up with.

‘Who is Father Christmas?’ Lucius asked curiously.

‘Muggle myth about a wizard who delivers presents to children during Yule.’ Barty answered distractedly. ‘Old man with a long white beard and a red suit.’  

‘Dumbledore.’

‘Definitely Dumbledore.’

‘Don’t need a second guess to work that one out.’

‘The old bastard for sure.’

Several voices overlapped, then a round of wry chuckles followed. Harry looked around in confusion, but his lips quirked slightly, noting the tension easing just a fraction in the room.

‘Did you say wrong magic, Harry? What does that mean?’ asked Severus.

‘Wrong magic. Liar.’ Harry shrugged.

Severus tried to work out how to better phrase his question to get a clearer answer.

‘Does his magic look like he is trying to do something sneaky, Harry? Like his mouth is saying one thing but his magic is doing something different?’ Marius asked.

Harry’s eyes widened as he nodded vigorously. ‘Yes yes yes! Words say good boy, magic says danger!’ Harry signed emphatically.

Marius’ expression tightened. ‘He is a dangerous man, Harry – you’re right. Tom and everyone here will always try to keep you safe from him. But if something happens, and he gets hold of you, be very careful and –’ Before Marius could continue, Harry interrupted.

‘I know. Dangerous man. Do what he says, don’t fight. Be sneaky. Wait for dad.’

Marius blinked. ‘Have you already spent time with him, Harry?’

Harry nodded. ‘Why I know his magic for memory. Dad and Severus help me, bring me home. Bad man makes me sleep always, thinks I am stupid. I do what he says, then I go find Paddy and watch wall when bad man go away.’

Marius stared. ‘Right. Er, good job?’ he faltered, then turned a carefully tamped down, angry glare at the others in the room. ‘Was anybody planning to tell me that Harry spent time with Dumbledore?’ he asked, cold and sharp.

‘We did.’ said Tom blankly. ‘Right at the start. I told you Harry had only spoken one word under duress.’

‘You didn’t tell me Dumbledore was the cause of that duress!’ Marius growled.

‘Not Dum… bad man. James (crazy hair) not my dad try to make me talk.’  Harry interjected again with a scowl.

‘What? Who is that – not your dad?’

‘James (crazy hair) not my dad. Try to make me talk but I don’t talk but then dad come for me and I talk. Hurts.’

Various angry expression met that statement, but Harry seemed not to fear them this time. His own disgruntled expression was one of the clearest expressions Marius had seen on the boy’s face – he was so careful, so cautious in his emotions and body language, as if he had lived in a house full of landmines, as if any little thing he did could set off an explosion. Marius closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. No matter how many times he came across abused children, it never got easier to deal with. At least young Harry had landed in a good place.

‘May I ask, Harry – why do you say he is not your father? Did you not live with him before you lived with Tom?’ Marius asked carefully.

Harry shook his head.

‘He lived with an aunt and uncle – Lily’s sister and her husband. Dreadful people. Carrick found him one day and brought him here.’

Marius fought the urge to sigh. ‘I feel that we should have had this conversation much earlier.’ He muttered.

‘Not my dad James not my mum red lady.’ Harry signed emphatically.

‘Why not? Because you didn’t remember them? You didn’t live with them?’ Marius probed gently.

‘Don’t know my name. Call me other names. Not real names. Don’t know I’m Harry. Dad calls me Harry. Good uncles call me Harry. Paddy calls me Harry or puppy. James and red lady and bad man don’t know my name.’ 

‘Your nasty aunt and uncle took your name away, didn’t they?’ Barty asked, trying not to sneer. ‘But Tom gave your name back. Those other people didn’t know your name, because they’re not really your family anymore.’

Barty stopped when Tom gave him a slight glare, but he just shrugged. ‘Is it untrue?’ he asked Tom.

‘It is more nuanced than you’re making it out to be.’ Tom gritted out.

‘No, it isn’t. Those people abandoned him, let him be hurt and abused, let his name and his innocence be stripped from him. They’re not his family anymore.’ Barty said, utterly sure and confident. 

Harry nodded emphatically in agreement.

Tom sighed heavily, not sure how to unravel this latest tangle.

‘It’s late,’ Lucius said abruptly. ‘We all should head to bed. Harry especially, it is well past your bed time. We can talk more in the morning.’

Tom caught Lucius’ attention quietly as everyone began to move. ‘What time should his bed time be?’ Tom whispered. ‘I told him 10pm.’

Lucius let out a surprised bark of laughter. ‘Merlin’s beard, he’s a little boy! 7.30! Maybe 8pm at a stretch. Good grief Tom, no wonder he has such dark circles under his eyes half the time!’

Tom blushed furiously. ‘Oh, shut up. I didn’t know, did I?!’ he growled.

Lucius sobered slightly, smile softening. ‘No, you’re right. These things come with time and experience. Little children need a lot of sleep, far more than adults. Harry especially, seeing as how he has a lot of catching up to do health-wise.’

At Tom’s expression, Lucius reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. ‘You’re doing well, Tom. Harry is happier and healthier each day. There will be many bumps on the road, and plenty of mistakes, big and small. That doesn’t mean you aren’t doing a good job.’

Tom nodded, looking his age for once. He wore his power and influence so effectively, like armour, that it was easy to forget how young he actually was. Lucius gave his shoulder another squeeze, then bid him goodnight.

Tom took Harry by the hand and lead him down the hall to his room. He directed Harry through his nightly preparations for bed, then tugged the covers down and helped him climb in. He resettled the covers, tucking Harry loosely – the way he preferred – and fetched Harry’s favourite book.

‘Comfortable? Alright, here we go again. Babbity Rabbity…’