Chapter 28
Harry opened his eyes onto white formlessness.
He lay quite still, watching the mist billow and swirl around him, his mind even blanker than his surroundings. After a while, it occurred to him that he was looking at the mist with eyes, and those eyes were blinking, and he was positively lying on something hard and flat. So he must exist, and his body existed too, and wherever he was must exist as well.
He stretched his legs, remembering how to use his muscles in doing so. He was dressed, he realized, still wearing the same clothes he’d worn at the battle, grimy and wrinkled. Where were his glasses? The moment he thought of that, his fingers felt the frames, skittering a little under his touch.
Harry sat up, slowly and carefully, and put his glasses on. The scene resolved a little, but not much. He sat on a flat, white surface, featureless and stretching out into the mist. No—that wasn’t quite right. The more he looked, the more he saw: the surface was made of planks, and he could see railings on either side, and benches, all forming out of the mist. He even caught a glimpse of the ocean, and heard the dim, muted sound of waves.
The pier, he realized. He was on some dream version of the pier at San Benito.
There came a long, familiar-sounding groan.
Harry turned, and so saw Severus.
His guardian was lying full-length on the pier, facedown but stirring. He was wearing the same clothes as at the battle, like Harry, and he looked as battered and dirty as Harry felt.
Severus groaned again and turned his head. His black eyes focused blearily on Harry. “Harry?”
“Severus!” Harry jumped to his feet and hurried over, kneeling down to help Severus sit up. “Are you all right?”
“I…I think so.” Severus didn’t sound very certain. “Are you?”
“Yeah. Where are we?”
Severus sat and stared around, blinking. “It looks like the pier.”
“Yeah, I…” Harry trailed off as a new sound came. Pathetic little thuds, miserable mewls.
It seemed to be coming from under one of the benches. Harry stood again and approached, wary and tense. He peered under the bench and recoiled.
It was a tiny creature, naked, flayed-looking and fetal. It flopped and wriggled helplessly, rudimentary eyes staring blindly. It was utterly helpless, but it repulsed Harry on a deep and visceral level.
“Don’t touch it!”
Severus had come up behind him. His eyes were fixed on the creature with loathing.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” said Harry. He shuddered. “What is it, exactly?”
“If I am not mistaken,” said Severus, lip curling as he beheld the tiny monster, “it is a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul.”
“His soul…” Harry looked at the thing again in horrified wonder. “This is what happens when you split your soul?”
“So it would seem.” Severus’s gaze was fixed on the creature, thoughts racing furiously behind his eyes. “But what is it doing here…?”
“Where is here, anyway?” Harry cast his gaze around again. He could see the pier clearer than ever, though there were certain differences from the real pier back in San Benito. Where the real-life pier ended in a railed promenade for its users to admire the ocean, here it ended in a clean slice, with hooks ready for a ship or boat to tie. It was a working pier, Harry realized, for real vessels to make port.
“Are we dead, Severus?” he asked. The thought did not dismay him, but he was curious. “Is this the afterlife?”
“I don’t think so,” said Severus after a moment. “I think this is some kind of…between space. Limbo.”
“But the Dark Lord killed us. He cast Avada Kedavra.”
“Yes, but…” Severus still seemed to be thinking, his gaze shifting in calculation between Harry and the maimed piece of soul. “I don’t think it worked. Not the way he intended, anyway.” His eyes stopped moving, and angry realization dawned on his face. “Oh, Dumbledore,” he murmured. “Oh, you evil bastard…”
“What?” When Severus didn’t reply, Harry yelled, “What?”
“Harry…that piece of the Dark Lord’s soul…” Severus seemed to be fighting back nausea. “It—it must have been in you. That’s the only way it could end up here with us.”
Harry looked at the flayed, horrid thing. “In me? But—but how?”
“I’m not sure,” said Severus, who was green-faced by now, “but I can guess. When…when the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby, his soul—it must have been so unstable. No one before him has ever split their soul into more than two pieces. His killing curse bounced off you, hit him…and it must have broken off another bit of soul. And then it latched onto yours.”
Harry swallowed. “So all these years…I’ve been a Horcrux?”
“It would explain many things,” said Severus slowly. “Like how you are a Parselmouth when the talent doesn’t run in your family. And why you reacted so strongly to the Ravenclaw Horcrux. And how the Dark Lord was able to possess you.”
“So when he tried to kill me again,” said Harry slowly, “do you think he…killed his own soul instead?”
“That would make sense,” said Severus quietly.
They stared at each other. The fragment of damned soul kept up its pathetic mewling. “But there’s more to it, isn’t there?” Harry realized. “I’m not seventeen yet. The blood ward is still live for another couple of days.”
“And the Dark Lord never realized that,” said Severus. “He never truly understood how you survived his first attack.” He glared at the soul and made a sudden, impatient noise. “Oh, come on, let’s move away from that thing. It’s driving me mad.”
“Do you think there’s anything we can do to help?” Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder at the nasty creature even as he followed Severus further down the pier.
“Any part of the Dark Lord’s soul is far, far beyond anyone’s help, I think,” said Severus dryly. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
He moved to the railing, staring out at the ghostly sea. After a moment, Harry joined him.
“Why aren’t I dead?” Severus asked suddenly. His black gaze was fixed on the misty horizon. “Intention matters when it comes to Avada Kedavra, even more than most spells, and the Dark Lord certainly intended to kill us both…”
“Because I saved you,” Harry said after a moment. “I sacrificed myself for you—or I tried to, anyway. Like you said…intention matters. Mom’s sacrifice cast a blood ward on me. And now…now I think I might’ve cast a blood ward on you.”
They fell silent, staring at each other, side by side at the railing. Before being thrown into this limbo, there had been the distraction of the battle, the urgent, terrifying business of trying to stay alive against Voldemort’s attack. Now all had fallen still around them, time itself slowing almost to a halt. Even the fragment of maimed soul didn’t matter very much. Emotion was rising in Harry: hurt and bewilderment and a welling sense of betrayal.
“Severus,” he said quietly, “why?”
Severus did not have to ask him to explain the question. Sorrow and regret welled up in his eyes, but he did not turn away. “I told you the truth,” he said. “I took you because I promised Lily in my heart that I would. But…my motives weren’t entirely pure. I can admit that.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I loved your mother, Harry, but I hated your father. James Potter and I loathed one another from the moment we met on the train to Hogwarts when we were eleven. He and his friends—Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, whom you’ve met, and Peter Pettigrew, whom you have not—made my life an absolute misery at school. And then—then James took Lily. She chose him over me.” A steely light flashed through Severus’s eyes. “So I took James’s son. I took his son, and I made you mine. And I have never once been sorry.”
Silence fell again. Harry felt—he did not know what. All he knew was that he had more questions, so many more, and they were all tumbling to get out. “But why did you lie?” His voice had risen, echoing above the waves and the miserable mewls of Voldemort’s soul. “You lied to me about everything! And don’t tell me it was for my protection,” he added savagely.
“It was for your protection,” Severus snapped back. “The Dark Lord was still out there! Maybe only in spirit form, but he was always going to return fully. And when he did, he would want us both dead. The less you had to do with other wizards, the better. The Dark Lord would never think to look for you in the Muggle world, a California beach town.” He paused. “And…I didn’t want to share you, Harry. Since Lily’s death, you have been the only person in the entire world I love. The greatest good that has ever happened to me. I didn’t want to share that with anyone.” His eyes flashed with savage light. “Especially not with them. Not with the wizarding world.” He spat out the words like they were poison.
“You really don’t like other wizards much, do you?” said Harry after a moment.
“They never much liked me,” said Severus shortly. “The magical world brought me nothing but loneliness, pain and disappointment. I was not sorry to leave it behind.”
“And you didn’t want me to find out the truth.” Harry wanted his words to sound angry, but they just came out miserable. “You never wanted me to find out that you were a Death Eater.”
“No.” All of Severus’s anger evaporated, leaving only shame. “No, I didn’t want you to find that out.”
Harry let out a sound that was half sob, half scream. “Why would you do that, Severus? Why would you join the Dark Lord?”
Severus was silent a moment, staring down at the planks of the pier. The whimpers of the fragmented soul sounded behind them.
“I made some very stupid mistakes in my youth, Harry,” he said at last. “Some very evil mistakes.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ve…never told you the—the particulars of my youth. I grew up alone and unloved in the Muggle world. My father was a Muggle, as I’ve said, my mother a witch, but neither of them were good parents. They were two very bitter and frustrated people, and they took out their anger on each other and on me. It was a miserable household.
“Lily was my only friend. We were neighbors, and we were drawn together, as magical children often are. I couldn’t wait until we both went to Hogwarts School together. Until I could escape my life with my parents and be with her.
“James Potter ruined that dream.” Severus spoke calmly, but with anger buried underneath, deep hurt. “He turned my dream of Hogwarts into a nightmare of bullying and humiliation. I wanted revenge on him—I dreamed of it. So when a group of students at school seemed to befriend me and offer me a way to achieve power, to throw down my enemies, I was only too happy to accept.”
“Let me guess,” snarled Harry. “They all grew up to be Death Eaters.”
Severus nodded miserably. “I was always fascinated by the Dark Arts—I’ll admit that—and I was intoxicated by the vision they showed me: wizards in power, myself among the ruling elite, free to punish anyone who had done me wrong.” He gave another shuddering sigh. “Lily tried to warn me. She told me that my so-called friends were nothing of the sort, that they were leading me down a very dark and evil path. In my heart, I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to listen.
“Then I did a terrible thing, an unforgivable thing. In a moment of rage and humiliation, after Potter had made a fool of me and Lily came to my rescue, I called Lily a—a name I will not repeat. A hateful name. A slur on her Muggle heritage. I didn’t mean to—it slipped out—but I had said it, and there was no taking it back.
“I lost Lily’s love and friendship that day, and it was entirely my own fault. The one light in my world, and I let my own bitterness and stupidity put it out forever.”
Quiet fell again, broken only by the murmur of the waves and the whimpers of the broken soul. Harry could think of nothing to say. He was stunned by Severus’s story, overwhelmed—but even now, he could feel no hatred for his guardian. Not even anger, really. Just sorrow.
“What happened then?” Harry asked at last.
“I think you can guess,” said Severus, still not looking at him. “I had lost the light of my world, so I continued in darkness. I swore myself to the Dark Lord as a Death Eater after I left school and did his bidding in all things. Until—until…”
“What?” When Severus did not reply, Harry burst out, “Tell me!”
“There was a prophecy,” whispered Severus. “A true prophecy, spoken by a true Seer. That a boy would be born at the end of July to parents who had thrice defied the Dark Lord. A boy who, when he grew up, would give the Dark Lord’s greatest enemy the power to destroy him once and for all. I heard it all. Harry…I was the one who told the Dark Lord of the prophecy. But I swear to you, I did not think he would decide to kill Lily and her family.
“But he did. He decided you must be the boy in the prophecy. The boy who, if he grew up, would give Albus Dumbledore the power to destroy him. So, true to form, he decided the solution would be to kill you in the cradle. To kill Lily’s son.
“I couldn’t let that happen. I had failed Lily once. I could not do so again.
“I went to Dumbledore. He was head of the Order of the Phoenix, the organization sworn to destroy the Dark Lord. I went to Dumbledore, and I told him everything. What I’d done, and what the Dark Lord had decided to do. I begged him to protect Lily and her family.”
“So what did he do?” Harry was by now so fascinated that he didn’t even hear the soul’s miserable mews.
“He cast the Fidelius Charm: hiding a secret within a single living soul. As long as that person kept their silence, Lily and her family would be safe, no matter what the Dark Lord did. But…that person did not keep his silence.” Severus’s lip curled. “Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew betrayed your family to the Dark Lord.
“When I found out, I rushed to Godric’s Hollow to try and rescue Lily, save her family. I was too late to save Lily.” And now Severus looked into Harry’s eyes once more. “But not too late to save you.”
Another pause. Harry stared at Severus, feeling as though he’d never truly seen him before: a man who was both hero and villain, an utter coward and the bravest man he’d ever known, so much darkness inside him and yet with a heart of blazing light. A man who had driven away his only love for hate, and then grown love from hate once more.
“Since then,” Severus continued, “I have assisted Dumbledore in his hunt to find and destroy the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes. For I desire vengeance against the Dark Lord above all things, save only one. Your safety and happiness, Harry.
“I have done my best to keep you safe, to destroy the Dark Lord. To keep the prophecy from coming true. For I never wanted you to become a weapon against the Dark Lord, for Dumbledore to use you as he has used me. I wanted you to live and be happy.”
Tears stung Harry’s eyes. He turned away, stumbling, until he ran into the railing. He stood there a long time, clutching the railing, tears running down his face and dropping into the phantasmal sea.
Movement, and Harry saw the toes of Severus’s shoes out of the corner of his eye. “I understand if you hate me now, Harry,” Severus said quietly. “No doubt many would say you have a right to. But please believe me when I say I love you as my own son and always will.”
Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, then another. He wiped his tears away and turned to face Severus, staring into his eyes. He had never seen his guardian look so ravaged, so vulnerable.
“I don’t hate you, Severus,” Harry said. “I—I think I’m angry with you. Or I will be. But I don’t hate you. I will never hate you.” He reached out to grasp Severus’s shoulder, as Severus had so often grasped his. “I love you, Severus.”
After a moment, Severus reached up to clasp his wrist. Tears shimmered in his eyes. They stood like that a long moment, linked together between sea and sky.
At last, Harry stepped away. “We have to go back,” he said. “We can’t stay here.”
“Are you sure?” Severus gave the end of the pier a look almost of longing. “It looks like a ship might come in. We could catch it. Maybe we would see your parents again.”
“Our friends are still fighting out there.” Images flashed through Harry’s mind: Tomas and Maya laughing on the beach, Los Dos in the comics shop. Meeting Ron and Hermione. And Ginny. Oh, Ginny. “We can’t just abandon them, not if we can help it. And…” Harry trailed off as a new and astonishing thought occurred to him, breaking like dawn.
“What?” Severus glanced at him.
“Severus,” Harry said slowly, “we have to go back. Or you do, anyway. You’re the only one who can kill the Dark Lord now.”
“How do you figure that?” Severus raised an eyebrow.
“I sacrificed myself for you,” said Harry. “Or I meant to, and that’s much the same thing with magic. I’ve given you complete protection from the Dark Lord. He can’t kill you now. So now you’re the only one who can actually finish him off. The only one who he can’t touch, who has both the power and the will to cast Avada Kedavra.” Harry stared into Severus’s eyes. “You’re the one the prophecy spoke of. Not Albus Dumbledore. The Dark Lord’s greatest enemy. And now I’ve given you the power to destroy him.”
Severus looked stunned. “My God,” he whispered at last. He gave a strange, bitter laugh. “All these years I fought against the prophecy coming true. And all I did was bring it to life.”
“Well, that’s pretty typical of all the old stories, isn’t it? Trying to avoid destiny only brings it on faster.” Harry nudged Severus. “Besides, even without the prophecy, you can’t run out on the fight yet. Shakespeare won’t let you.”
“I’m sorry?” Severus looked bewildered.
“Well, it’s like you said back in the Ghost Rental: Here on my knee I vow to God above…Death hasn’t closed your eyes, so I guess you’ll have to get yourself a measure of revenge.”
Severus actually half-laughed at this, fighting down a grin. “Right, Harry.”
“You can’t argue with the Bard.” Harry paused. “How’d you even get into Shakespeare in the first place, Severus?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking, except that now seemed like a good time for asking for the truth.
“I told you I grew up in the Muggle world,” said Severus. “When I was nine years old, my schoolteacher took the class to see a live performance of Twelfth Night. I’ve never looked back.” He grimaced. “Actually, that was one of the most irritating aspects of the wizarding world, the way no one knew or cared about William Shakespeare.”
“Well, maybe you can change that.” Harry held out his hand. “Come on, Severus. Let’s go back.”
After a moment, Severus took his hand. Together they walked back to shore.