Déjà Vu
Harry was still shaking. His father sat on the ground next to him, just watching him patiently. His breath was coming ragged and uneven, the scene in the Slytherin dorm playing over and over again before his inner eye.
Crabbe grabbing his shoulder, Harry turning and blasting him to the other end of the room with only his hand. His fingers tingling with power prickling under his skin. He had been terrified.
He was still terrified.
But also oddly soothed. It was just the fact that his father was here to comfort him, something he couldn’t get used to, no matter how much time they have spent together over the past week. At first it had been pure bliss, but during the last two days his parents had voiced their concern for him – rightfully so, as he now knew.
“You were right”, Harry muttered bitterly. “I became obsessed, didn’t I? It’s just like the mirror the first time around…” He felt his father’s warm hand on his shoulder. It was real… and it was cruel. “You are obsessed”, he said gently. “And for a good reason. I myself like to think, that the real deal is far better than an image in a mirror.”
Harry huffed. He didn’t look at him right now, but he was sure his father was grinning.
James sighed. “I would have given anything to talk to my parents again… they died a few weeks before our wedding day.” Well, he was not grinning anymore. “They would have adored you. They always wanted grandchildren…”, he said softly. “If I imagine myself in your position… I wouldn’t have done anything different.”
Harry and James sat up, staring into the fire. “It was so easy to call you this time”, Harry mumbled quietly. “I barely had to think about it. All I thought about was something… someone to help me, to understand –“, his voice was getting louder, “It’s not like I can tell them! It’s not like I can say who I am and what I did. Even if they believed me, it would change the timeline too much, I wouldn’t know what to – how to change things and –“
Harry felt his father’s attentive glance on him. “This isn’t just about me and your mother, is it? You don’t need to justify anything to me.” “Don’t I?”, Harry snapped, but his father wasn’t bothered by that. He was frowning, probably trying to decipher what Harry wasn’t saying.
Harry sighed. He was tired, so incredibly tired and he really didn’t want to keep anything from his parents. “Pettigrew”, he simply said, not able to keep the hatred from his tone.
James flinched slightly and his expression darkened. “I see.” He paused. “You think we’re angry you haven’t turned him in yet?”
Harry gritted his teeth. Pettigrew was the bane of his existence, lounging in Gryffindor tower with Ron, while he was in the dungeons, unable to do anything about it. “I tried to find a way, but I couldn’t be sure – what if he wriggled himself out of it again or –“
“Harry.” James sounded oddly calm, considering their choice of topic. “We don’t blame you. Neither me nor your mother. We know you’re doing your best and frankly, it’s more than you needed to do. You could have ignored Death and woken up in that forest again, besting Voldemort like the awesome son you are and living your life happily ever after. You needn’t come here, where no one knows you, and do it all over again. But you did. And you’re doing great. How could we fault you for that?”
“But Sirius…” “I know”, James said sadly. “He will have to hold out a little longer. Of course I don’t like it, but I understand the risks to the timeline”, he grinned at Harry’s dumfounded expression. “Don’t think Lily doesn’t lecture me on magical theory just because we’re both dead.”
Harry chuckled silently, immediately storing that remark away like he had done with everything he learned about his parents during the last weeks.
“And regarding magical theory… I don’t know exactly what happened with Crabbe back there, but I’ll take an educated guess based on Lily’s observations, yes?”, he didn’t wait for any kind of confirmation on Harry’s part, but kept on, “You told us how it became easier every time you called for us”, Harry nodded numbly, “You just said, this time you barely put anything into it. Our guess is, that by calling us you’ve strengthened your magical prowess over the last four weeks or so and that resulted in a burst of wandless magic when they agitated you.”
Harry thought about that for a moment. Something about the ‘four weeks’ had rang a bell. Wasn’t that the time Death had told him it would take him to master the ability to call on the dead?
He was seething. “Death knew”, he said darkly and his father merely blinked. “What?” “Death knew I would end up this obsessed”, Harry clarified, keeping his voice as calm as possible. Judging from his father’s wary face he didn’t succeed. “They told me it would take about four weeks to master this… whatever this is. They must have known what it would entail.”
James hummed. “Bastard.” Harry almost choked on his spit, which made his father give him a foolish grin.
“Bring them to me”, Harry said, determinedly. He was done with hiding and secrecy. He needed to know what was happening to him. “What?”, James said. “Bring Death to me. You know where they are, right? I need to talk to them.”
“Harry… I can’t bring Death here”, he said slowly. “No one can make them do something they don’t want to do – Except for you.”
“Right. ‘Master of Death’”, Harry said with distaste.
“Exactly."
««»»
It was awkward, to say the least. Harry had done it… And now he didn’t know what else to do.
Death was sitting in an armchair, that had appeared exactly at the same time as them and since then they hadn’t spoken a word to neither Harry nor James. They were still in their black robes, the hood drawn so their face was impossible to identify.
“So, you care to tell us why you let my son suffer for weeks without warning him?”
Harry held his breath when Death turned towards James, who kept his gaze trained steadily on the black figure. Teeth blinked under the hood. “Some lessons can’t be taught. Some can only be learned.”
“So you don’t deny it”, Harry barged in. Death tilted their head curiously. “I don’t. I told you it would take about four weeks, didn’t I? It was always meant to be this way, for you understand now the pain and ache it brings to call on the dead.” They looked towards James, whose gaze still didn’t falter in the slightest.
Harry, on the other hand, felt nauseous. “That means I can’t call anyone here anymore?” At that, his father’s gaze finally snapped at him, his eyes wide. Dread settled in.
“It doesn’t”, Death said calmly. “If you wish to do so, you can call on anyone to help you and guide you. I’m in no position to stop you. This was merely an experience you needed to have.”
“Was it?”, Harry snapped. “What about the blast of magic I let lose on Crabbe? Care to explain that?”
At that, the figure chuckled. It sounded eerily and creepy, but it was probably the most emotion the being and shown until now. Harry and James shared a glance. “I needn’t explain that, your father already did. Your continuous connection to the realm of the dead strengthened your magic and therefore, in a vulnerable and emotional moment, it lashed out. You will learn to control it, but it will take longer than this, as it is not a power gifted by me but one of your own you hadn’t bothered to use until now.”
Harry was dumbfounded. “I could always do wandless magic?”
Death laughed and really, Harry did feel quite ridiculous. Had or hadn’t he literally blown up his aunt when she pissed him off? And had or hadn’t he made Vernon let go of him when his uncle had jumped him for having his wand out in public? And had or hadn’t he made his wand light up when Dudley and him had been attacked by Dementors that very same day? He had never really thought about that again… but if Death said so…
“Magic without a wand requires much more focus and is sometimes unpredictable. Why do you think Occlumency is so difficult to learn? Most witches and wizards can’t do it because they don’t know how to access their magic without a wand.”
“So… if I practice wandless magic, I’ll be able to learn Occlumency?”, Harry said, a plan already forming in his mind. Death grinned again. “It certainly seems so.”
And with that, through no doing of Harry whatsoever, Death disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing but a few vapours of black smoke behind. Harry kept staring at the spot until the room vanished the armchair, seeing no more need for it.
That was the moment James jumped up, mischief glinting in his eyes, with his lips turned in a sly grin. “So, you want to practice wandless magic”, he said, rubbing his hands. “Tell me, what do you know about the Animagus transformation?”
««»»
James hadn’t stopped talking since, just blabbing about the hardships they had faced during the preparations for their own transformation and when they had inevitably had to part ways – Harry was exhausted due to his lack of sleep and the extended time he had spent keeping James anchored here – Harry knew, why not more witches and wizards became an Animagus. A whole month of keeping a mandrake leaf in his mouth alone would be challenging, not to mention any of the other necessities .
But Harry was exhilarated nonetheless. He would become an Animagus. He hadn’t thought about it before, mostly due to the lack of time and the uncertainty of war, but now it felt inevitable. As if it was always meant to be. Especially because his father would be supporting him every step of the way.
What also had been inevitable though, was the Weasley twins finally finding his hideout. And so, when they leaned against the opposite wall when he left the Room of Requirements, he wasn’t even surprised.
“Well, well…” “… well.” Harry sighed. “We knew it was only a matter of time until you came back here.”
“What do you want?”
Fred grabbed for his heart. “Did you hear that, George? Is that how you treat your favourite pack of prankster twins?” George shook his head with regret. “I’ve seen it from time to time. I think people don’t appreciate us and our craft like they used to. Such a shame.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes. It was not like he was mad at them. He couldn’t be mad at them. “How did you find me?”, he asked, playing the innocent first-year.
“It’s where you disappeared to when you ran away before the sorting”, Fred said, with a strange expression on him. Harry felt a lump forming in his throat. “Also, you vanished in this exact same spot over the last week, every day”, George added.
“What? I didn’t vanish –“, Harry stopped and thought about it, then it dawned on him. “The map”, he said and the twins grinned wickedly.
“Which, while we’re at it”, Fred said, “Care to finally explain how you know about the map or this room?”. He motioned towards the wall, that was already back to normal and bore no sign of concealing a room at all. “Or how you found it? We racked our brains with it, but –“, he looked at George, whose gaze was steadfastly fixed on Harry, “It was your first time ever in the castle, you’ve never been to this corridor before. How did you know about this room?”
Harry took a few deep, calming breaths. He felt tired and excited and very emotional.
“No – no – no! No! Fred! No!”
“I can’t tell you”, he said defeatedly. He wouldn’t endanger them. “Once I’ve solved this mess I will, but –“, he took another deep breath, “Just know that the map is very dear to me. And a friend of mine told me about this room. I can’t tell you who”, he added immediately when George was about to ask, and the redhead pouted at him. “But I’ll tell you eventually. Just not now.”
The twins shared a glance and shrugged. “Good enough for us”, George said and Harry couldn’t help himself but feel relieved. “Just tell us before you turn on the wooden overcoat”, Fred said jokingly and Harry chuckled. “Why would I -?”
“Because Snape wants to see you in his office”, George said, his expression sympathetic. “We didn’t know if you would make it out alive, so we wanted to ask.”
Harry frowned. Why would Snape want to see him?
The twins seemed to have read his expression correctly, as Fred smirked. “Not even Harry Potter can skive off indefinitely.”
Harry felt the familiar dread settle in his stomach and barely concealed a sigh. Of course his teachers wouldn’t let this kind of behaviour slide any longer. No matter how well he did in class. But he’d rather battle a Mountain Troll than have this conversation with Snape. Alternatively, he would consider riding a dragon through Gringotts, but first-years weren’t even allowed to leave the grounds.
He couldn’t fault Fred and George though, they seemed worried for him under all their bravado and jokes. And he would have no one else walk him to his doom.
««»»
The last time Harry was had been here, he had a peak into Snape’s pensive and had truly thought he was done for when the man had caught him. He could still see his furious face in front of him.
“Get out, get out, I don’t want to see you in this office ever again!”
This time, the pensive was nowhere to be seen. But all the jars and phials were still orderly seated in the shelves. The room hadn’t changed much over the years – or wouldn’t change, to be more precise. Time travelling was confusing.
“Potter”, Snape drawled and pointed at the chair opposite his desk. Harry sat down slowly, ignoring the tinge of déjà vu the situation gave him.
Snape sat down, his cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry, dislike etched in every line of his face.
“So, Potter, you know why you are here.” Harry didn’t answer. He was busy with not looking Snape in the eyes in an inconspicuous kind of way. He couldn’t risk him using Legilimency, trying to figure out why Harry had skipped classes. “Apparently ordinary classes are below a celebrity of your calibre, yes?”
Harry felt familiar surge of hot anger rush through him, but it was somehow dulled, knowing that Snape may mock him for it, but that that night that made him famous was in the back of Snape’s mind everyday as well and that that may be the reason he couldn’t let go of Harry’s fame. It somehow made it more bearable.
“Just like your father you are, he too was above anyone in this school, strutting through the halls with his friends and admirers like he owned them.“ His gaze was piercing, but Harry managed to focus on a spot on his forehead, not his eyes. “Your father didn’t set much store by rules either”, Snape pressed on. “Classes were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. The sheer amount of times he was absent due to unexplained reasons –“
“With all due respect, Sir”, Harry said through gritted teeth, “I thought I was here because of me skipping classes, not because my dad used to be an irresponsible toerag.”
Snape glowered at him, but for the first time it didn’t aggravate Harry. It made him pity him.
“Then I take it you will tell me your very good reason you haven’t been to your classes in a week”, Snape drawled menacingly after a short pause.
Harry’s mind was reeling. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about what to say on his way here, but he was still unsure of how vague to be – because Snape would definitely be able to tell he was lying if he didn’t play this right.
“I was seeing my parents”, he said. Snape’s surprised snort seemed almost too big of a reaction to this, but he took it. “I know they’re dead, but… over the holidays I explored the castle and I found this mirror – at first I thought I imagined it, but it showed me people – my family, I think. My mum and dad were at the front, and they smiled at me… I talked to them. They didn’t talk back of course, but –“, he stopped as if to collect himself. It felt hard to swallow, even if he was just playing the part. It wasn’t all a lie after all.
“And where is that… Miracle Mirror now?”, Snape asked surprisingly calm.
Harry fidgeted with his hands and averted his gaze. It was surprisingly difficult to avoid eye contact without raising suspicion, he noted. “I don’t know”, he said in a small voice. “That’s what I was looking for. But since the end of the holidays it just… vanished.” He paused deliberately. “I don’t know where to, I don’t know who it belongs to, but I just wanted to take another look at it! I wanted to see my-my parents one more time, I –“
“Stop that insufferable blabber”, Snape interrupted him harshly and Harry stopped immediately. Surprised he touched his cheek and wiped a few tears away. He hadn’t even realized he had started crying.
He forced himself to stop. Not in front of Snape.
For a moment no one said anything. Harry just stared at his lap, trying to avoid Snape’s intense gaze. And then… the man this something Harry thought he’d never do again: He surprised him.
“Get out, Potter.”
Harry’s surprise must have been palpable, because Snape motioned towards the door to get his point across.
Slowly Harry got up and walked across the room. Just before his hand touched the handle, Snape added: “I expect you back in your classes by tomorrow. Your professors will give you make-up work and you’ll start with an essay about the proper preparation of nettles and the effects it has on the potion you’re brewing. You got two days.”
Harry nodded and walked out, not saying anything. As soon as the door closed behind him, he breathed out loudly and all the strain seemed to fall off of him.
He had just fooled the best spy in the wizarding world.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.