Unveiled part2
It was still morning at London and it was already a long day. Remus was standing outside the warded room, waiting for Dombledore to be done with Snape. He reclined against the wall, trying to comprehend what he had seen. Mycroft was possibly Severus's, there was a possibility Harry was too. Were they a triad? Did James knew? Why Lily could have done that? Or was it James and Severus? There was rumors that possible lines had the ability to carry no matter the other partner ( veela, werewolf, vampire and...), be it men or women. Was Snape, or James one of those? How much the other parts were true? Was either Harry or Dombledore in danger? If yes, then how much? Grimmauld was too cold and sinister for his liking. He would not be able to lose Harry, he would die from grief alone, and if anything happened to headmaster, the war was all but lost.
Dombledore finally stepped out: let Severus rest, He is certainly unwell.
Remus inclined his head: will do headmaster. What about the...paternity?
Dombledore removed his glasses, carefully busing himself with cleaning them.( for merlin man!you are a wizard! Scourgify it and be done with it!!!) : I am afraid you will have to do it, and before Remus could protest, he continued: I am aware that your...illness makes it difficult for you, and sirius does not have the fineness for the act and he is yet to recover from the injustice of being held in Azcaban, too angry, too rash. Alastor will sooner spike my head on a spear than to go near a cauldron, and Severus...needs rest.
Remus closed his eyes, in for a long day indeed! : headmaster, if I may?
Albus chuckeled: oh you certainly may!
Remus carefully chose his words: today, you were, you seem to be unnecessarily cruel to Sirius, and cold and indifferent to Severus, yet now you seem...you seem to care.
Albus finally sat on the chair that came out of nowhere: Sirius, is and will be the loyal and headstrong gryph he is. Never considering the effects of his actions, tell me Remus, if he suddenly decided that Harry needs to know he is Severus's son, or to go about wandering in Londen as his dog form, what could be possibly do? As I said, we can not ask him sign the contract, so he will not be bound to be as obdi ent as all the other order members. Consider him wandering about, caught by a death eater and brought to Voldemort....( at the mention of that Remus shivered). Then we will certainly lose our spy. Whether the memory was correct or not.
:so you don't care as long as your spy stays intact? It is the unbreakable vow! What if he suddenly slips? He'll be killed!
: Remus, I do care, but maybe I should be more...open with you. I care about Severus in a...different way. Unlike most of the order, I have watched him as a 19 years old, too old for school but too young to be a complete adult, till he became a man, I watch him daily, hourly. And...I can say... I may consider him as a...sort of my son...my protégé as you say.
Remus did not expect that at all: what?
: yes, yes, it was quite unbelievable for myself, but it is what it is. He is extremely intelligent, mulishly stubborn and quite powerful. I dare say if for me and...Tom...he would be the most powerful wizard alive. As both of us are much older, and he is yet young for a wizard. But it is not just that. I have hurt him more than anyone, asking too much and giving too little, yet he has been loyal. Has become sort of my only confidant. I know it may sound..odd. but when I said I trust him with my life, I meant it. So I can not bear watching him suffer needlessly, having hurt him more than enough myself.
Remus inhaled, so Sirius was kind of correct. They did have a...special relationship. Just not the kind he assumed: it will be done by tomorrow sir. And if he put more emphasis on Sir, that was it.
Sirius was shaking in anger as he stood just outside the room, eavesdropping every word. This was his manner and however he disliked the place, He was it's lord. He would be damned if he let some stupid warding get the better of him. So as the Black's main line only remaining heir, the manner would allow every kind of leeway to him. Listening to conversations through the walls was just a part of it. (Well, the only part he knew of, as he did not always listen when his father was talking about them).He felt oh so lonely, and Sniv got Dombledore for a mentor and father figure and Sirius got nothing. He got Orion the king of negligence, Walberg the queen of badmouthing, and his beloved uncle Alphard who was the black ship of the family and not that respected. Sure he had Jame's parents, but they were always more James's, and less his. ( as they should have been, he told himself). Just why His life meant less than him? and you don not even say because Snape was their only intell, cause it was not true. The main reason was because Dombledore valued him more, as a son. Praising him like that, most powerful, most intelligent ,Sirius's ass. The git was a miserable stinky dark hearted bat, not even able to catch a rat two years ago as pettigrew had ran away,the incompetent vampire fraud! And by Merlin sirius would prove him to be just that!
As Albus aparated in his office elves have already brought a tea tray, Moody looked dagger at him: seriously man?
Albus smiled pleasantly: why, I just invited you to tea, why so glum dearest Alastor?
Moody grumbled: It is really getting old you meddling colorful clown! You know I hate even mentioning that tea,that I have been poisoned by that monsterous brew TWO TIMES, yet you made it the sodding code name for (top secret come meet me at once, convenient or not).
Albus reclined on his soft armchair, picking a cup of his excellently elf brewed English tea: you wound me, Alastor, I am not that colorful! surely a purple and yellow robe goes perfectly along with polka-dot brown- pinkish shoes and red shoe lace!
Alastor huffed: yeah, whatever.
Albus smirked: and who said I wanted a secret meeting? It was Sybil telling me to invite you over CHAMOMILE tea!
Alastor exploded: shut up! Shut up you half-brained ancient statue of idiocy!Severus robbed too much on you for my liking, morgana's tits! You are now even smirking just like him!
: yes, alright?
: go on, do not dilly dally. State your business, some of us do have more important works than munching on muggle candy to do, headmaster.
The office was full of various devices, red and gold and full of other headmaster's portraits and books. It smelled like home made cookies and sweet scent of flowers, and the walls were a soft yellow with sunflowers. It seemed inviting and holy and happy, welcoming the visitor to trust the man inside the office.
Albus rested his chin on his hands: you did understand the full intent of the memory, my friend?
Alastor took a sip of his tea: more or less, As you must know, I am not a very good legilimens, so understanding memories, does not come easily to me. I understood that the boy , Mycroft, was de-aged, so he must be from the future. From when, I am not sure, as obliviate and stupefy was cast at the same time on him. The main points were, Snape's maybe potter's dad, Mycroft boy is his brother, the prophesy is about them, you died, Snape died, potter died, Crabble and Goyle junior died, We lost the war, The end.
Albus: narrowed his eyes: oh?
Alastor glowered at him: Well Snape was headmaster of Hogmart, was he not?
Albus tapped his fingers on the wooden desk, humming: and...why would be like that?
Alastor rolled his not fake eye: you don't need me for that.
Albus stepped away from his desk: humor me, anyway.
Alastor stretched his leg: assuming you died, Flitwick will not be chosen for the role, as he is half-creature. Sprout is a squib-born so she is out, too. Minerva is seen as your protégé, and she is too strong-minded and stubborn, so either she dies or injured by a half-brained scham. There is only him then left.
Albus paced in front of the cold fire place, playing with his wand handle: you did not mention horcruxes, as the boy said, glowy blue crown and how he said lord of the rings which supposedly cursed me.
Alastor huffed: clearly the boy was down, horcruxes? As in plural? I am specialized in dark magic and even I only have read about it in one book, in passing, as the darkest of the dark, forbidden for ever, and something to do with murder and soul.
Albus was looking from the window now: I can assure you it is really dark. And involves murder, splitting your soul and trapping it in an object which has certain runes drawn on it by a...baby's blood.
Alastor eye widened: w..w..what?
Albus resumed: yes, that's the act of murder too. And then you need to kiss your own victim, biting them in their lip and take a small sip.
Alastor was now standing upright: fuck the shit!
Albus remained silent, allowing him to gain his calm.
Alastor then robbed his temple: you guess he did that?
He confirmed: several, but not how many, 3?5?7? 13? More?
Alastor stated pacing too. After a minute asked him: was the diary in potter's second year one? And basilisk? I only heard second handed, from Arthur.
Albus noded in confirmation.
Alastor asked again: what would you do with Snape? He is destined for doom one way or another, and now we hear there will be an explosion, an attempt at potter's life, also there is blocks on Mycroft's magic, so if we lose Snape, we lose potter too. Cause the other won't hold the wards. So do I send Shakelbot to potter's?
Albus inclined his head: plus Robards.
Alastor was in the way of flooing, then paused: Do you really feel strong about Snape? Severus I mean.
Albus inhaled deeply, took a ginger cookie to munch on: you know why I love lemon drops and socks? Or why I prefer ginger cookies?
Alastor shaked his head: I suppose you are about to tell me?
Albus hummed: It was 1980, when he came to see me. A scrawny looking 19 years old, who miraculously became the youngest potions master in history. I guess as you now saw the memories, and know about supposedly Harry's parentage, it wouldn't shock you to know he ...requested I protect Lily's life. He shocked me too. I guessed he would beg for himself, or suggesting he became spy in exchange of protection or some other thing. He did neither. Nothing for himself. He had the mark then. He impressed me. I tested him, asking his services instead, he did not hesitate to offer it. So selfless, so loyal. Then I made a decision to accept him as a professor. Our relationship started like that and he continued surprising me. You know, he first told me his allergy to lemons a day after that? It was 1982, Christmas, when he presented me lemon drops. Sour sour ones, out of spite I suppose, but he still proved me he was a boy, still had enough innocence that he just gave me what he hated, not what I hated, or something that may have endangered me, poisoned me.
Then the other year he gave me the ugliest socks ever. Brown and black with orange like spots, as if shit and vomit, but they were soft and charmed to warm my toes and protect them from sharp things if I happened to walk in them. In the last three years he gave me ginger cookies.
Alastor stopped pacing: so you love him, as a son. You really see him like that and yet you send him to that monster, how?
Albus said angrily: do not assume it is easy for me. Most will see me as either a meddling old coot, or a senile grandfather. I am neither. I am a leader, a bad one maybe, but I am all we have. While he has money and fortunes and the advantage of being younger and immortal. I am not getting any younger. And I can not leave Harry and order to fight him alone. I might be evil,yes, but I am a necessary evil. A surgeon who has to cut. I hate myself sometimes.you know my life, I am a shit brother to Aberforth, a shitter one to ...Ariana and a bad son and lover. I dueled him you know? I broke him and left him to be prisoned for good, and I loved him. So why not be a shit mentor? Shit father figure? If I could change my place with Severus, If I could do a single difference, I would. So yes. I do. I maybe the dark lord of greater good, but I will not leave the magical society, its future in hands of a man who will not ever die and is a power hungry murderer. What ever the cost. Be it me, be it ...Severus or Harry or even you.
Alastor didn't say anything but when he was leaving via floo, at the last moment he turned back and murmured: bit what if there is no one left for you to save at the end? Nothing but ashes...
**************************?***********************************************
Sherlock felt like he was going to have the talk again, awkwardly staying out of the Cafe while John and Molly were distracted with engagement pictures.
Greg Light a cigar: want some?
Sherlock thought about the time he and Mycroft smoke them, right before he told him that his loss would break his heart, and Sherlock just said he had drank too much. He shook his head.
Greg asked: so?
Sherlock fake coughed : so..Mycroft and...you?
Greg narrowed his eyes, taking a deep inhale: you did not know.
Sherlock stayed silent.
Greg burst into laughing: you really didn't.
Sherlock remained silent, again.
Now Greg was doubled, tears in his eyes, shaking with laughter: oh...bloody hell. I know something the great Sherlock Holmes himself did not know, or not deduced. Oh my balls!
Sherlock rolled his eyes: are you done yet, Greg? I did not came here to watch you laugh at me you know...you bloody..stop it. Mycroft is gone!
Greg stopped sudenly: what? He can't. He is the government!
Sherlock: well apparently he did so, not a word he left or any clue.
Greg laughed again: seriously? Poet now, are you? And what do you actually mean?
Sherlock lost his control: I meant exactly what I said. He..is..gone. he may be .... and I am standing in this God forsaken building listening to you laugh at me!
Greg gulped: if you say... when you say gone..is it gone gone? Or mission gone or your style gone?
Sherlock who had started pacing, suddenly paused: my style?
: well the jump and all that.
Sherlock attempted to go back: It was my mistake. Assuming you may know him better than me. And what you dated for a year? He is my brother for heaven's sack. I knew him from my first day in the world.
Greg eyed him suspiciously: oh? And when was the last time he had his visit with his psychologist?
Sherlock stared at him: His what with who?
Greg sighed: not this too, I see. I wonder If you even knew him at all. I mean I dated him for a year and God...
Sherlock said in a low voice: can you not rob it in?
Greg wanted so much to do just that, for every time he was behaving all almighty and like a know it all and with his better than you all attitude , but if there was a chance Mycroft was in danger, real danger, he had to talk, and he talked.