In the Cards

“I simply do not understand,” Poppy Pomfrey muttered to herself as she straightened away from the one year-old boy propped on the examination table.

She had been uttering uncomprehending murmurs under her breath since the headmaster had related what he had gathered from the events that had transpired in Godrics Hollow that night. Dawn was creeping through the tall windows, pouring its opalescent and cold light in the sterile hospital wing.

The rest of the present party had been mostly silent, reverently leaving Poppy to her examination and not daring to interrupt the litany of sighs and mutters just yet. Poppy would have been grateful, if she hadn’t been too focused on the medimagical mystery she was currently observing to notice.

The little boy was wide awake, sitting with his legs arched in a semi-circle in front of him like small children are prone to do before they grow older. He had been asleep for most of Poppy’s examination and awoke at her prompting, thirty minutes prior. Not nearly as grumpy as she would have expected him to be after being taken out of his sleep, she had struggled quite a lot in order to keep him still as he made to stand on the meter-high table or crawl towards the edge every five minutes. If this was any indication, she could already predict this boy was going to run himself into accidents quite often.

He had finally stopped fussing after Minerva transfigured one pillow into a stuffed bear and the boy had been babbling at it for the past ten minutes, once or twice pushing it towards the edge and curiously peering down as it fell. Minerva’s spell work levitating it back onto the table seemed to greatly amuse him as he would automatically dissolve into a fit of clear giggles, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Minerva was smiling softly as she took in the child who was now curiously staring around him with big wide green eyes, seemingly trying to take it all in. Her hands were clasped as they all awaited for Poppy’s diagnosis and the distraction the child was unknowingly offering was easing her worries. Albus had been standing beside her, he too waiting silently and glancing sideways occasionally, to the younger man sitting by the side of the bed next to that of the little boy, his back to them and his attention unwavering from the unconscious occupant of the bed.

Poppy’s last comment, the only intelligible one she had said so far, broke the relatively quiet yet uneasy daze they all had been complacent in for the last hour or so.
“What is it Poppy?” Minerva promptly asked as she caught the mediwitch’s words, her eyes finally leaving the little boy.

Poppy turned to face her colleagues, keeping a hand on the boy, less he decided crawling off the bed was a good idea once more.

“Your suspicions were correct Albus,” she stated glancing at the headmaster who tilted his head in acknowledgement. “There are indeed traces of dark magic in Harry’s system, but what has me baffled is that the curse that was used should have killed him,” she went on pointedly, knowing they would catch on her meaning.
Minerva’s eyes grew wide as she stifled a gasp and Albus’ face immediately closed off, watching the boy gravely. Even Severus turned to glance at the entirely oblivious, babbling child.

“The Killing curse,” he whispered so softly it was a miracle anyone heard him.

Poppy nodded somberly and turned to Harry, lifting his chin very gently and pushing away few strands of the already unruly black hair. There, red, raw and angry, was a lighting shaped scar. The attention of all present adults zoomed in towards the scar, half in horror, half in wonder.

“This seems to be where the curse struck. The dark magic signature is strongest and seems to radiate from here,” Poppy continued her explanation.

Minerva squinted behind her glasses adjusting them higher up on her nose. “Am I mistaken in thinking that this is the rune ‘Sowilo’?”

“The rune for ‘sun’, but how-“ Poppy trailed off just as Minerva was about to open her mouth to correct her. “It also represents success and life-giving force,” she realized in quiet wonder. She turned to Harry once more, eyes coursing over the little boy and resting on the scar. She had not thought of that, but upon closer inspection, the idea held merit. It seemed she wasn’t the only one to agree on that account, if Severus’ curious approach and subsequent subtle jerk back was of any indication.

“It does indeed look so, my dear Minerva,” Albus chimed in, he too now standing closer.

“But what does it mean?” Poppy heard herself ask before she could think better of it.

Albus’ eyes had not held their usual twinkle for quite some time, but the added seriousness it gave his gaze was nothing compared to the mixture of puzzlement and comprehension now coating his face. He stayed silent for several moments, pondering his answer. An answer he knew to be inherently erroneous. Facts didn’t add up. Couldn’t add up.

“As many other things wizards seem to have conveniently forgotten, runes – their meanings and uses – have spilled over in the wizarding world from muggle civilizations. This particular rune,” he explained cautiously, “literally translates to sun. Other meanings, however, include life-giving force, as you pointed out Poppy. Because it also stands for dedication, optimism, physical and mental strength, or invigoration, it was often used by muggle warriors before battles. For protection. That particular interpretation has been lost or purposely avoided because of its close link to muggle wars, and few are the wizards that will ever be able to stretch far enough to include it in this rune’s translation.”

His younger colleagues seemed enraptured in his explanation when he paused to measure his next words and looked up. They seemed to understand there was a point in his little historical anecdote, for they were all waiting for him to pursue, silent and focused.

If he was right, this would be prodigious magic. Despite his many years, Albus could still not wrap his mind over how his conjectures could even remotely be correct.
“Nonetheless, some remains. Some marginalized schools of thought still include protection as a viable translation. One of the highest kinds of protection, in fact. The kind that always comes with a price.”

Albus took a step toward the little boy, who barely reacted to this tall white-bearded tower now looming over him, very aware of the baited breath with which his younger colleagues were waiting for him to continue. His hand came up to stroke Harry’s hair gently and the boy looked up with a few-teeth-smile that turned the curve of Albus’ lips up. He sighed and turned back to the expectant adults.

“It usually comes with a sacrifice,” he said finally. “I would have believed it came about, due to Lily’s fierce protectiveness over her son, for this is what this rune presupposes. That Lily’s love would protect her boy; protection for which the price would be her death,” he explained calmly. “Lily, however, is not dead. I cannot begin to fathom as to how such a thing is possible. The killing curse has been aimed straight towards both Lily and Harry and yet neither is dead. Harry seems well enough, and Lily seems quite literally asleep,” he mused.

Without prompting, Poppy had raised her wand and wordlessly transfigured the examination table on which Harry was propped up into a crib and she had turned towards the slumbering form of Lily Potter, circling around a frowning Severus in order to get to her.

Beyond ensuring the young woman basic vitals and the presence of dark magic similar to Harry wouldn’t hurt her further, she had quickly attended the needs of the little boy, de facto more vulnerable.

She took her time, weaving the complicated patters of more advanced diagnosis charms, checking for any disturbance in the normal functioning of her physiological system and magical core. A parchment appeared next to her and filled up as she went, recording everything she picked up from the examination. At last Poppy went through the final checks and snatched the parchment, scanning it with practiced ease, her eyes dancing over the page. Unsurprisingly and just like for Harry, remnants of dark magic could be found, and she could confirm now that it was indeed the killing curse. Which did not exactly answer any of their questions. Poppy frowned deeply at that. Albus was right, it could not make sense for both of them to be alive.

Perhaps being hit by the curse was enough for the protection afforded by the rune to activate, explaining Harry’s survival? But it did not explain how Lily could be alive. Quite the opposite in fact.

Pursuing her reading, her heart quite literally jumped to her throat and her eyes widened as she reached a particular line of the parchment.

“Oh Merlin,” she whispered after reading for the third time.

“What? What is it?”

She almost jumped in surprise at Severus’ words. As focused and entranced in her care as she had been, Poppy had not realized the young man’s approach. He was now standing very close to her, desperately trying to get a glimpse of whatever it was that had made Poppy Pomfrey lose her cool professional demeanor.

She snatched the parchment away out of sheer habit to ensure patient confidentiality against overzealous friends and over concerned guardians. Severus scowled deeply but she paid him no mind, instead raising her wand once more. She intended to ascertain this particular result before she babbled it out loud inconsequently.

She had the particularly strong suspicious that this…finding was the answer to their confusion. A quick series of charms later and she dropped her wand arm in astonishment. Astonishment imbued with a growing urge to smile that seemed entirely foreign after the latest development.

“Well?”

It was Minerva this time. The tone was clipped and Poppy looked up to be met with a growingly impatient audience. She glanced between the Headmaster and Minerva, deliberately but subtly avoiding Severus for this piece of news as she suspected the displeasure it was likely to produce in the young man.

“Lily’s pregnant,” she announced clearly and unsurprisingly, her words were welcomed by deafening silence, before shocked gasps broke it.

Nearly as soon as the shock wore off, Albus’ face contorted into amazed realization. He glanced between Harry’s forehead and Lily, then Lily’s stomach. He blinked several times as he exhaled, looking skywards with a pleased smile gracing his lips That was it. The missing variable in his equation.

Lily’s love was what saved Harry. It had been strong enough to bind the protection of the rune to the boy, effectively saving him from Voldemort’s attempt to kill him. But Lily wouldn’t have stopped there, not knowing that she was pregnant with another child. Lily would have done everything she could to protect her child- children, and Albus suspected Lily to be bold and smart enough to work around even her death.

The only way she could ensure Harry’s survival was to die. The only way she could ensure her unborn child’s survival was to live.

“She is in a magically induced coma, isn’t she?” he asked Poppy, although they both knew it wasn’t so much a question as a mean to hear it confirmed.

Poppy nodded gravely. “That’s what it seems. Her magical core seems to be revolving around the child she’s carrying,” she explained thus confirming Albus’ theory. The old wizard nodded gravely, already considering the implications of such revelations.

Harry was safe, protected by the blood protection awarded by Lily’s sacrifice, as long as he stayed in a home where resided their blood; in Hogwarts with Lily nearby, he couldn’t be safer at the moment. As for Lily, she was alright for now too, but there was no downplaying the weight of the situation they found themselves in. Her magical core had reacted in order to protect her child and as long as there was something to protect she would be fine. It was the ‘after’ Albus was worried about.
Severus wouldn’t bear having to endure her death a second time after such mad hope had been rekindled. The rest of them wouldn’t fare much better, him not the least. He sighed deeply suddenly feeling the weight of the war and his years as he contemplated the fatalist outcome that couldn’t yet be ruled out of the realm of possibilities.

Albus glanced at Harry, taking his time to commit to memory the features and expressions of the little boy. As if feeling a gaze on him, Harry looked up and for a moment blue met green and the depth and intensity of the gaze trapped Albus long enough that he had to be startled out of it by Minerva’s comforting squeeze. She was glancing at him with a tight lip smile that told him she’d grasped the same reality he had, and yet neither of them seemed to be quite ready to voice those thoughts. Sorting this out was going to be more than intricately complex. He decided he would rather not dwell on the dread that came with even fathoming a lack of viable solution and instead focused on more pressing issues. They still had months from the looks of it.

He straightened, squaring his shoulders minutely, almost unconsciously as he made a mental list of what needed to be done.

“I will be scheduling an order meeting tonight. No doubt the news of what transpired in Godrics Hollow would have travelled through rumors and hearsays already. I advise caution regardless of Voldemort’s apparent demise and that only those not currently accomplishing a mission gather here.” Minerva immediately nodded, recognizing Albus’ intonations, and she swiftly turned on her heels to take care of delivering the order.

“Poppy, I do not believe myself mistaken in assuming Lily is quite safe at the moment, and that nothing can be done?”

The medwitch nodded once in the same brisk, business-like manner her colleague had, seconds earlier.

“I will place a monitoring charm on her as to ensure I be immediately notified if her condition changes. I have not dealt with coma patients for quite some time since starting at the school and I’ll check in with St Mungo’s as to the proceedings to attend basic physical needs; dealing with the pregnancy on top of that won’t make things easier and I would rather make sure I do not miss anything.”

“Thank you Poppy,” Albus answered as she left them to head towards her office.

It left only Severus and Albus in the main infirmary chamber and silence fell upon them once more. The younger man had barely spoken since Albus and Minerva had found him and his face still bore the shock of the recent events. Albus studied him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, telltales of the rampant exhaustion and stress he must be enduring. Albus sighed imperceptibly. The blatant evidence of the war etched in all of his former student’s physiognomy was not something he was glad to observe, especially considering his own role into adding weight to an already heavy burden.

He thinned his lips, familiar resigned guilt swirling slowly in the background of his mind. He did not regret asking Severus Snape to turn spy for the Order of the Phoenix in the fight against Voldemort. What he did have remorse for, was the way in which he all but bullied the young man into putting his life further in danger. Severus had come to him. Despite the danger. Albus was not arrogant enough to claim responsibility over Severus’ actions in following Voldemort. The man had made his choice and would have to deal with the consequences with his own conscience. But Albus’ misgivings were equally at fault for creating the push factors that led Severus into making this decision. Albus was well aware that he had not tried to put an end to the suspicious climate revolving around Slytherin house as much as he should have in a context where many students there sorted, were already far more exposed than many others. Cunning and survival skills are better honed in hostile environment and Albus could never claim having been ignorant of the home life many Slytherins shared. Severus included. Hogwarts days for the young boy had not all been pleasant but for one Lily Evans and after that last link to affection the boy ever knew was severed, he had been left to his own decides to cope with the pain and loneliness he had been carrying all along.

He could not blame Severus for focusing on Lily in his request to spare her to Voldemort. He was acutely aware that the mere act of asking a question Tom would deem unpleasant enough could very well mean torture or death. As set on obliterating the threat against his power as Voldemort was, Severus would never be foolish enough to dare ask mercy for the boy.

“You disgust me.”

Albus felt the cold words settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach as the memory assaulted him. What would he, Albus, have done? He, who had been so utterly foolish in his own youth, more so than Severus ever had, arrogant and avid for power. Regardless of Severus’ fault, he had come to Albus seeking help. Despite the danger, he had come to him to try and fix the grave mistake he had committed in reporting the prophecy to his master. His wanting to save Lily, his only friend, over that of the bully that had made his life a living hell and a boy he knew nothing of but as the living expression of what he had lost, was not surprising. It was expected and if anything…instinctive.

Severus was once more sitting next to Lily’s bed, shoulders hunched over and looking like he bore the weight of the world. Albus watched him extend his hand slowly and rest it on top of Lily’s.

For all his introspection and observations of the young man, he had not noticed Harry standing up, his head barely above the bars of the crib.
“Severus…”

He was interrupted by a pitiful whale that startled him and snapped Severus out of whatever dreadful thought he had been dwelling on. The young man all but jumped to his feet and was by the crib before Albus could even blink. It was all he could do to stand there, owlishly gaping at his former student as the black-clad young man bent down to lift the son of his childhood nemesis up. The boy had been reaching his little chubby hands up and his cries instantly stopped once he was firmly but oh so gently held, his head naturally resting in the crux of the man’s neck, his thumb in his mouth.

Severus, entirely oblivious to his mentor’s gaping, simply rocked the little boy in a similar fashion as he had back in the nursery, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And meanwhile, Albus could only stand there, bewildered at a sight he never thought he would see in a million years.

Severus was turning on himself as he rocked the child and all his muscles froze upon meeting the awestruck figure of the Headmaster. Neither said anything, for what could be said? They simply stared at each other for several moments, seemingly leading a silent conversation as Albus felt his lips twitch fondly, brow lifting in a wordless, amused question.

Severus huffed haughtily, lifting his chin up in what he knew to be childish attempt at dismissing the abominable all-knowing twinkling in his mentor’s eyes, before turning away. A thought came to his mind as he was once more faced with Lily’s unmoving form. Swallowing around the lump in his throat he stepped forward, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed. Harry looked up upon noticing the identity of the sleeping figure and released his thumb from his mouth. He reached out to his mother, whimpering when he was too far to touch her. Severus peered down at him as the boy seemed to try and close the distance with his mother without fully releasing his hold on him.

Amused, he nonetheless whipped out the smile off his face as soon as he realized it was there. Better not give more ammunition to the twinkling. He bent forward to allow the child to touch Lily, He could only stare as Harry reverently put his hand flat on Lily’s cheek and kept it there for a few seconds, as if he understood the solemnity and the gravity of the situation.

Harry slowly brought his hand back to himself and turned his head around, seeking Severus’ face. The young man’s breath nearly caught as his eyes met Harry’s. He still couldn’t look straight into them without the sudden urge to dissolve into sobs. It wasn’t though the one-year-old was pouting his lower lip forward and his brows were drawn together, ready to cry himself that had Severus thrown off, but the intensity of the fear and sadness he could detect in one so young. He released the breath he had not realized he had been holding as he took in the silent plea so painfully obvious in the green orbs. On impulse, but still unsure, he brought one hand up slowly so as not startle the child and cupped the back of Harry’s head, stroking it gently with his thumb as he brought the boy close to his chest, hugging him as tightly as he could. Despite the boy having clearly demonstrated his trust in the short time they had known each other – and as far as the trust of a one-year old could go – Severus still found himself surprised when Harry snuggled closer, the small frame heaving up and down with quiet sobs.

Who ever said children did not understand anything… The little boy might not have understood the circumstances, but obviously had picked up on the immobile form of his mother, and the heavy atmosphere that had followed Poppy’s revelations.

Severus swallowed with difficulty, the guilt rousing its ugly head once more. Lily was not dead, but this, the pure and unabated sorrow oozing off this child was entirely his fault. And yet the boy was snuggling against him as if he were an anchor in the storming seas, a beacon of light in the whirling skies.

He had thought he would only ever be able to muster hate for this boy. The living reminder of what he had lost, taunting him and reminding him of his shortcomings and failure, of the one mistake that had changed everything. And yet, upon laying eyes on the fat, honest and so deeply pained tears rolling down the chubby cheeks of a little boy that had done nothing yet but be alive, he could not. One look and he had been utterly and entirely unable to ignore the cries that he knew he was the cause of. Hugging the little boy had been the most natural thing in the world. Comforting him so that he would stop crying over the tragedy he had been forced through for the sole reason of being alive.

When the boy had answered his attempts at comfort and quietened down, it had been as if something had rightened itself in Severus. As if perhaps, something could be salvaged out of this disastrous chain of events he had started and that put them all in this dire situation. Perhaps he wasn’t as powerless to make things even marginally better.

Without any conscious deliberation on his part, Severus had made a decision the night before. When he had found himself compelled to comfort this child for the first time. In the privacy of his own mind he had vowed that he would do everything in his power to protect that little boy. To ensure that his own foolishness and dreadful mistake would not have to bring further harm to a being that had lost everything in a single night, while deserving none of it.

Now, as he was once more holding Harry, realization finally dawned on him. What his silent promise meant, for him, for Harry and everyone else involved.

He had committed himself to the light fully and unconditionally the moment he had realized the Dark Lord’s plans. His spying was being kept secret and privy to only a select few. The wizarding world might think the Dark Lord to be dead, but Severus had never been more certain of anything than in his assumption regarding his ‘master’s’ survival. If the constant worry lines creasing Albus’ forehead and the vague haunted look ever present despite the twinkling were anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one.

If the Dark Lord ever managed to find a way to come back to haunt them all, how would he be able to continue what needed to be done to ensure his ‘master’ was stopped, while playing guardian to the very person he wished to kill.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Severus released a slow, low breath as he gathered his thoughts. As if this was the only worry… He would protect Harry. No matter that the boy was James Potter’s brat. It hardly mattered now that the man was dead, and Harry most likely wouldn’t remember enough of his father – as sad as this was for the boy – for him to have any influence. To him, and for the moment he had locked into those teary eyes, Harry was first and foremost, Lily’s child. The one she had saved by sacrificing her life, the one she was in a coma for. Well one of the one she was in the coma for.

Severus reopened his eyes and looked towards his former best friend and to her still quite flat stomach. He couldn’t divert his gaze away for several seconds and he swallowed with difficulty uneasiness creeping over him. Lily was alive solely because of the child she was carrying. The mere fathom of what would happen once that wasn’t the case was enough to make him dizzy and bile to churn in his guts.

As he breathed deeply once more to reign in the amounting wave of panic, a small cough brought him back to reality and he slowly turned to face his mentor, who seemed to have been watching him closely for quite some time now. He raised a questioning eyebrow at the expectant expression.

“I believe you should rest my boy, before the order meeting,” Albus declared with a rather pointed look.

“What is the point, I cannot possibly be in attendance, as you well know Headmaster,” he retorted, purposefully missing the point of his mentor. Who remained entirely impassive, besides tilting his head to the side with the characteristic all-knowing look in his eyes.

Severus rolled his eyes and huffed. “No need, I am-“

“Fine?” Albus interrupted, vaguely amused as he eyed his former student up and down. Severus’ shoulders deflated slightly and he gave Albus a dry look, lips pursed.

He was acutely aware of his likely very disheveled appearance, surely completed with dark circles under his eyes and he did feel vaguely queasy. Not that he would ever admit to it. He would never be able to sleep with such an overload of nervous energy.

“This is what sleeping draught and dreamless sleep are for my dear boy,” Albus chimed in and Severus glared.

“Stop using Legilimency on me,” he growled, and to his great annoyance, Albus merely laughed softly.

“I did not even have to try, you were nearly projecting your thoughts Severus,” he explained with an apologetic smile. “Another clue telling me you should rest. You never fail to raise and keep up your shields.”

Severus sighed. Despite the annoyance surging out at Albus prodding, the old man was quite right. Maybe a small dose of dreamless sleep would help him nap for a few hours, it was still quite early and he knew for a fact that he would never be able to wait after the meeting to sleep, not to mention the difficulty of staying focused while exhausted.

“I will take a nap if you insist,” he finally drawled. He entirely ignored Albus’ raised eyebrow and amused pointed look. If he had to back down from an argument, at least he would keep his pride intact.

Soft snoring suddenly filled his ears, and he looked down in surprise as if only remembering Harry was still in his arms. The boy was fast asleep once more, mouth parted and looking smaller and even more vulnerable than he did awake, if it was possible. He stared down at the child, eyes perusing the soft features of his face and landing on the scar marring his forehead. It didn’t look nearly as inflamed as it had earlier now that Poppy had applied Scar removal. She had hinted it would likely never fade due to the nature of the curse that had inflicted it, but it would at least appease the inflammation.

“What about Harry?” he found himself asking in a whisper.

Although Severus couldn’t see it, as he was currently undividedly focused on the child, Albus smiled softly at him. Severus eventually looked up when no answer came.

“Poppy is in her office; he has a crib here and despite the less ideal health state of Lily, his mother too is nearby. You can let him sleep in his crib.”

Severus nodded silently and stepped towards the small bed once more, slowly putting the child down very carefully, as if he feared he would break. Harry shifted once he was laid down, moaning softly in his sleep but remained otherwise calm and silent. Severus straightened back up and gazed at the sleeping child once more. On his part, Albus could only stare in near amazement at the sight offered to him. It was quite endearing to see this softer side of the young man before him, so completely taken by this little boy.

With a small nod in his direction, Severus finally left the hospital wing with his usual brisk pace without a single look back. Albus emitted a very brief and whispered chuckle. This was still the same Severus regardless.

He was on his way out himself, when Minerva quite literally ran towards him, an alarmed expression etched on her face.

“Albus I just received an owl from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” she all but panted, nearly choking up after her run.

“Albus raised his hands in a placating manner, before reaching for her shoulder to help steady her as she was doubled over trying to catch her breath.

“Please breathe first. What is it Minerva?” he asked after she had taken a few deep breaths. She leveled a horrified look up at him.

“Sirius Black was arrested a few hours ago,” she whispered, her voice shaking and Albus found himself staring at her blankly. “He killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles.”