Quote from JaySM on January 23, 2024, 8:22 am

Quote from mmlf on January 22, 2024, 4:17 pm

You are very good with imagery, especially sounds and sights. I also enjoyed the pacing as well. I had a very clear picture of the pandemonium breaking loose as the Dark Lord attacked Hogwarts. There are a few places where you switched to the present tense and a few spellings to correct, but neither of these spoiled the work. Good job!

I edited beforehand but it sounds like I still missed a lot.

Thank you. I’m still getting the hang of this. 😅

Quote from JaySM on January 28, 2024, 7:59 pm

Challenge 42: Severus Snape and Harry Potter

Prompt: Set in June 30, 1997 & 1979, Harry and Dumbledore go back in time.

Characters/Pairings: Dumbledore, Snape and Harry Potter
Rating/Warnings: Rated T for Foul Language, Cringe, Abrupt Open Ending, Character Death, Time travel and Petty Crime (self-edited), (re-edited for formatting issues)

“You swore to obey me.”

Harry winced, a defeated sigh escaping from his lips as he grabbed the chain from Dumbledore’s outstretched hands. Dumbledore sagged against the pedestal of the stone basin behind him as if the action of extending his hand had drained him of whatever energy he had left. The ring of fire shielding them from the inferi danced languidly, the blue light casting shadows on Dumbledore’s sickly face. His heart tightened at the sight of it.

Harry dropped his gaze to his clenched hand as he raised it until it was at eye level. He eyed the length of the chain until he reached the tail end which was weighed down by a golden hourglass pendant. His hands trembling as he tenderly cradled it to his chest.

Harry had seen something similar many years before and but couldn’t fathom how it could be possible. He had thought they’ve all been destroyed.

“Professor, is this-“

“We’re running out of time,” Dumbledore said in a stern tone that demanded no interruption. “What you have in your hand is a time-turner, one of my own making. Turn the knob on the right to move the rings and go back in time by four hours. Give this to Severus.”

Dumbledore raised his wand weakly to his temple and closed his eyes in concentration. The change to their surroundings was immediate but Harry witnessed it as if in slow motion, the flames reduced to knee-height causing an inferi to topple over into their safe haven. The reanimated corpse sluggishly knelt to a stand, undeterred by its flaming clothes as it stumbled towards Dumbledore.

Within six heartbeats, Harry had his wand raised at the ready, a spell on his lips. “Bombarda.”

The creature shrieked as it was blasted backward over their fire just before it was raised back to its full intensity. Through the gaps of the flames, Harry could see the inferi’s back hit the cave wall and slide back into the dark waters below.

The spell wouldn’t have killed it. It was only a matter of time before it returned to rejoin the others that waited outside their flaming shield.

Movement from his peripherals caught Harry’s attention, his body tightening to action as Dumbledore doubled over clenching his chest in pain. A clear, cylinder flask rolled from his limp hand just as Harry reached him.

Tears stung Harry’s eyes. This was the one man he trusted above all else, the one that anchored him with his words of wisdom amongst the chaos in his life. He couldn’t go like this.

Dumbledore eyes were closed but it was as if he were trying to channel his pain inward as he pointed to the general direction the flask dropped.

“Take it, Harry. Find Severus. Tell him recent events has now enlightened me to the error of my ways.” It was difficult to hear him over his labored breathing. “Tell him it’s the missing pieces. I’m ready to put my eggs in one basket.”

Harry had enough time to pocket the flask before Dumbledore blindly reached for him, weakly pulling him closer by his cloak. Harry didn’t resist.

Dumbledore’s half-lidded blue eyes found purchase in his green one. “Tell him, I’m sorry. For everything.”

There was a small wheeze, the beginning of a death’s rattle, as Dumbledore closed his eyes and sank back to lean even more heavily against the pedestal.

Harry stared at him, his own thoughts racing at the futility of the situation, it lead him to shake his head in denial.

“Hurry, I don’t have much left in me to keep the ward in place.”

It took more strength than he thought he had for Harry to pull his eyes away to inspect the timeturner in his hands. There were four knobs that was reminiscent of the directions of a compass although he couldn’t tell by the unfamiliar runes whether he was holding it upright.

Should he turn the knob as if it were being worn around his neck or facing it?

Harry turned to Dumbledore to ask but he faltered before he could say anything. Dumbledore’s pallor had completely lost color and he didn’t appear to be breathing. Harry froze in indecision until he saw Dumbledore let out a shuddered breath. Only then did he feel confident enough to dare himself to move into action.

Pulling the long chain over his neck, Harry briefly experimented with the knob on the right of the hourglass but when he applied gentle pressure and it didn’t give he switched over to the left. He turned the knob four times, the outer ring seamlessly rotating around the inner. A gasp broke his trance causing Harry to snap his attention back to the older man.

Dumbledore’s mouth slackened in horror as he stared at the timeturner in Harry’s hand. “What have you done?”

Cold dread washed over Harry as he latched on to the only thing he knew would have answers. The only one who could potentially fix his screw up. Dumbledore.

The older man raised the excess chain of the timeturner over his head just as the world melted into a blur of colors around them. The chain grew hot against their skin as the hourglass flipped wildly in place until it seemingly disappeared. There was unsurmountable pressure coming everywhere all at once, and Harry was forced to tuck in his head to bear the brunt of it. It placed a strain on the chain and he could hear Dumbledore’s moan of pain over the howling wind surrounding them. Harry stared at the stone floor watching as the moss disappeared and the gray slab lighten in color. Light flickered across the stone like a stop motion picture as if to signify multiple days passing. Harry stared entranced until the light began to stay longer, and the blur began to solidify into darkness. The air immediately felt more weightless as time slowed.

Harry felt it before he heard it. The tension on his neck lessened when he heard the chain snap and the hourglass fall with a clink. Time abruptly stopped. Harry managed to catch the moment the glass shattered into tiny pieces all over the floor, the sand glistening out of existence. His hands uselessly reached out as if to salvage something, anything but his denial quickly ran its course and his body was already tensing in anticipation as he turned to Dumbledore.

“Expecto Patronum.” A ghostly phoenix was summoned from the tip of the Dumbledore’s knobby wand and streaked towards the mouth of the cavern out of view. Harry stared after it in confusion until Dumbledore wrapped his arm around shoulder. “Help me up, Harry.”

Harry immediately obeyed struggling to lever Dumbledore up by his arm.

“We must meet Severus outside the Shrieking Shack. I wouldn’t ask this of you any other time but-“

Harry nodded, understanding the unspoken request. He led Dumbledore back the edge of the lake bearing most of his weight, he scanned the dark depths past the dormant bodies of the inferi for their safe transport back.

“Where’s the boat?”

Dumbledore wheezed as he raised his wand and attempted to magically force the boat up. The moment Harry saw the bow, he took over and cast a levitation charm until it sat atop of the water fully drained.

Harry carefully led Dumbledore back onto the boat and boarded before their transport could leave him behind. He sat staring unseeingly at the island he just left before a thought occurred to him.

Harry whirled around, “Professor! The horcrux-“

“The location has been noted,” Dumbledore croaked. “Reaching Severus is most important.”

Harry furrowed his brow but held back a retort. He didn’t think Dumbledore could handle what he had to say about Snape. His worry for Dumbledore drained him of any of any irritation he may have felt.

When they reached the bank and Harry assisted Dumbledore out, the older man fell to his knees barely catching himself before he fell flat on his face. Harry hovered anxiously over him, not being able to decide whether to spell him lighter or manhandle him back up. Harry chose the former trying to cast a levitation charm on the older man but he only managed a few paces before the spell lost it’s strength. It took all of Harry’s control to guide Dumbledore gently back to the floor.

After catching his breath, Harry tried again, this time casting a feather light charm to lighten Dumbledore’s weight before he once again went into position to guide him around the lake towards the opening of the cavern. Just as Harry smeared his blood on the archway to be able to leave, Dumbledore fell limp at his side, and Harry frantically tugged him into the ice cold waters before the entrance closed causing the older man to gasp in surprise, eyes wide as he looked around.

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

He was still alive.

Dumbledore muttered an apology.

Harry bit his lip in concern, as he nearly carried him across the water to the nearest boulder, heaving him atop it. Wet and shivering, Harry held the older man’s blue tinged body close as he focused with all his might to apparate to the Shrieking Shack.

Within seconds, there was a familiar tugging sensation at Harry’s navel before he was pulled out of his location as if through a straw, he reappeared near a familiar hilltop losing balance when he landed and ungracefully fell on the tall grass with Dumbledore tumbling a distance away, facedown and motionless.

Harry leapt to his feet when he noticed and knelt at his side, cautiously reaching for his shoulder in apprehension. “Sir?”

Dumbledore moaned as Harry turned him.

“Professor?”

Dumbledore raised his hand in a placating manner with a gentle nod. “Find Severus.”

“But, sir-“

“It’s most important,” said Dumbledore forcibly. He winced in pain at the effort to raise his voice.

Harry’s shoulder sagged, immediately feeling guilty.

“Sor-“

Dumbledore pulled Harry to the ground, sitting up with his wand at the ready. Harry witnessed as the knobby wand, shot out of Dumbledore’s hand, hanging briefly mid-air before zooming towards his left.

Harry went to sit up but was pushed down again by Dumbledore who reinforced his intent with a warning look.

The older man slowly raised his hands in surrender and by way of greeting said, “Severus.”

There was something off about the way he said his name. He didn’t sound as relieved as Harry expected him to sound.

Harry inched upwards to his forearms to see Snape through the pale tips of the green grass. The first thing Harry noticed was how young he looked. Snape couldn’t have been that much older than him. Gone were the wrinkles that lined his brow and creases that flanked his mouth that came from the permanent sneer on his face. No, there was something altogether different about Snape that had nothing to do with his physical appearance.

Snape’s dark wand was trained in their direction, his knees slightly bent, his muscles tensed in preparation to run or fight. Harry felt Dumbledore’s weak attempt to try and push him back down and failed. Snape’s cold black eyes zoned in on him. He didn’t know how much of him Snape could see but it was enough for his lip to curl in disgust. Harry could have sworn the temperature dropped several degrees as a shiver of fear froze him in place.

It suddenly occurred to Harry why he felt off about this Snape.

Even though Snape was a vindictive, greasy git to him most of the time, he never got the impression he was under any true danger with him. There was dislike, yes, but Harry never experienced the bloodthirst that hung in the air as it did now.

Is this still the same Snape Dumbledore trusted?

As if prompted, Dumbledore asked softly, “What year is it?”

Snape’s black cloak billowed around him as a gust of wind swept Dumbledore’s question away. At first, Harry assumed Snape didn’t hear him but after a calculating look he responded evenly with, “Nineteen seventy-nine.”

It didn’t take Harry long for this to be interpreted as bad news as he watched Dumbledore close his eyes and let out a long, tense exhale.

“I need you to listen,” Dumbledore breath rattled as he raised to a high kneel, Harry was quick to sit up and catch him before fell over from the attempt.

“I can hear you just fine from over here.”

Harry shot Snape a nasty look. Their eyes met and Harry saw something indiscernible crossed those dark eyes before his attention returned to Dumbledore. Harry could have sworn, his wand wavered a bit lower in uncertainty.

“I don’t have enough time. You must heed my warning,” there was a pause as if Dumbledore were waiting for Snape to respond but when he didn’t he continued anyway. “Lily is in danger and-”

Snape’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why on earth would you bring her up. I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

“Please stop the charade, Severus.” Dumbledore pleaded wearily. “I know what she means to you and you will certainly regret it if she dies.”

Harry eyes bounced between the two of them. Snape? Snape and his mother? He felt bile work its way up his throat.

Snape’s wand lowered even further but it was still pointed in front of him, although it was aimed at the ground.

“Why haven’t you saved her the-?” Snape’s words faltered as Dumbledore clenched his chest and buckled over. Snape took a few curious steps closer but kept his distance. “What’s with him?”

Harry guided Dumbledore softly to the ground. “I think he’s been poisoned.”

At the same time Dumbledore croaked out, “Water.”

Harry pulled his wand out and spelled water into Dumbledore’s mouth but he began to sputter and choke.

“Are you daft?” Yelled Snape who sounded a lot closer now. “Use a goblet!”

Harry flushed in embarrassment, refusing to look in the man’s direction as he admitted, “I don’t know how.”

Snape sucked his teeth in annoyance and Harry shuffled away to allow the man to kneel down and prop Dumbledore’s head on the bend of his elbow. A goblet filled with water shimmered into existence and Snape pressed the rim to Dumbledore’s lips to coax him to drink.

“Water,” Dumbledore repeats, his eyes glazed. “Water.”

“Yes, yes. This is water. Now drink.”

Dumbledore choked when Snape tilted the goblet and Harry nearly intervened to complain about his horrible bedside manner but before he could, Dumbledore began guzzling it down and showed no signs of slowing.

“More,” Dumbledore he strangled out. He sounded like he was choking on his own saliva. “More!”

Snape grew withdrawn and introspective, no longer engaging Dumbledore as he began thrashing searching for the goblet. “What was it that he ingested?”

“I don’t know. A green potion of sorts. It made him mad.” Harry watched as a distant look overcame Dumbledore’s eyes and he grew quiet. He didn’t know why but the action terrified him. “Please, Snape. Help him.”

As if awoken from sleep, Dumbledore snapped back into awareness. “Severus?” He pulled at Snape’s clothes as if he were intending to climb up it. “Severus. I swear to you no more secrets. You can have them all, you can make a difference. You are my most trusted friend. I should have treated you as such. I’m ashamed of myself. I’m so sorry. Could you ever forgive me?”

A flash of emotion crossed Snape’s face before it melted back into its blank state.

“Did the potion have a scent?” Snape asked calmly. He was expressionless, his eyes glued to Dumbledore as he wept. “What shade of green was it? Did it smoke? What effects did he have when he drank it.”

“No, I don’t recall smoke or scent.” Harry said, his mind working a mile a minute to recall. “It was emerald green and he was hallucinating every time he drank it.”

Snape looked at Harry in alarm. “Every time he drank it? How much did he drink?”

A heat spread down Harry’s neck. He tried not to answer defensively. He had done everything he was asked to after all. “A basin full. We had to get to the locket.”

“Had to get to the- how did he manage to drink so much if he was hallucinating?”

Harry felt when the tips of his ears reddened. “He just did. Alright? Can you just help him?”

Snape shook his head contemplative. “Something is not matching up. If it is the Draught of Despair then his symptoms should have already alleviated with fresh water. Did he consume or come in contact with anything else?”

Harry massaged the bridge of his nose in intense thought as he tried to back pedal the events of the entire evening. Did Dumbledore drink anything else? Just then, a vision overcame him as a memory played like a reel of Harry frantically dipping the goblet into a lake and racing back to give it to Dumbledore.

There’s no way. The water, it was connected to the sea right?

But the more Harry thought of it, the more he felt the blood drain from his face.

Right? Or was the lake just another big gigantic basin? Another one of Voldemort’s tricks?

Harry leaned back on his haunches, bereft.

Did he fuck up again?

“If you have anything to share now would be the right time.”

At hearing Snape’s voice, Harry flinched as if struck. It was only after a long gap of silence filled by Dumbledore’s delirious words, did he manage to say anything at all.

“Yes.” Harry nervously swallowed. “It was me. I gave it to him. I thought it was water.”

“Gave him what?”

“I had him drink water from a lake full of inferi.”

Silence followed and by its length Harry felt the weight of Snape’s judgement.

“Your naivety is a dangerous trait to have.”

Harry couldn’t meet Snape’s eyes. “Yeah,” he muttered docile.

Snape let out a long sigh. “Same questions still apply. Do you remember the appearance?”

“No,” Harry bowed his head. “I didn’t examine it too closely. I don’t remember anything that could be remotely helpful.”

Snape let out a derisive sniff.

Harry yanked his hand back from his face in anger as he glared at him. “I’m trying, okay?”

Snape didn’t bother with a response. He, instead, muttered incantations as he waved his wand over Dumbledore’s curled body, his wand lingering over the Headmaster’s blackened hand which appeared to be going through the final stages of necrosis.

“He’s already been cursed.” Snape disengaged from his spell with a flick of his wand. “In combination with two psychological potions it would only be a matter of time before his health fully deteriorates.”

Harry’s heart sank, suddenly feeling somber. “Is there anything you could do?”

“Your faith in me never ceases to surprise me,” Snape said evenly as he propped Dumbledore further up . “I may be able to grant him clarity in his last moments. He doesn’t have long now. Minutes at most.”

Tears blurred Harry’s vision, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as he nodded in acceptance.

Snape angled Dumbledore’s face to meet his, fighting to pin the older man’s hands before he could raise it back to his face. “Legilimens.”

The effect was instantaneous, Dumbledore stiffened in Snape’s hold as their eyes remained locked. Not long passed before Snape began to mentally withdraw and Dumbledore’s body began to slacken.

An awareness that wasn’t there before settled on Dumbledore’s expression. “Severus?”

Snape sighed. “Yes but I’m beginning to think I am not the one you are looking for.”

“Nonsense,” Dumbledore dismissed. “everything about this has always led back to you.”

Snape raised a brow. “As interesting as this all is, you should use your time wisely and make peace before it’s too late.”

Dumbledore nodded sagely. “Do you have the wand?”

“Yours?” Snape pulled Dumbledore’s knobby wand from the recesses of his dark cloak and offered it to him.

Dumbledore raised a hand and waved it to decline. “It’s yours. Keep it on you at all times. The memories will explain everything.”

“The memories?”

“Oh!” Harry rose to a high kneel to reach into the pocket of his robes, rifling through it until he felt the familiar cylinder shape and gave it to Snape.

Snape examined the contents within watching as the silvery gaseous-liquid swirled. “These are memories?”

“They’re my own and can be viewed in a pensieve.”

Snape’s brow furrowed. “And where would one procure such an object?”

“Oh dear,” said Dumbledore now pensive. “Now, that is a dilemma.”

Snape shook the container experimentally a motion that was all too familiar to Harry as it was something the man did after class to grade their potions. “How would this save Lily?”

Dumbledore turned grave. “It is one of many steps.”

“And what would happen if I drink it?”

Dumbledore grew thoughtful. “I’m not certain. If it were anyone else I would discourage it but I presume your mastery of mind arts would play an important role if you chose to do so. You could potentially partition the memories with Occlumency.”

“Fascinating,” Snape observed the flask with renewed interest.”

“Quite.” Dumbledore smiled fondly, the lids of his eyes closing slightly. “Alas, my time draws near. Harry?”

“I’m here!” Harry shuffled forward, eagerly grabbing the older man’s outstretched hand like a lifeline.

“Harry,” Dumbledore smiled weakly, “I want you to remember, regardless of what may happen, I care for you deeply and never once regretted meeting you. It’s been an honor to have you at my side in my last moments.”

Hot, wet tears streamed down Harry’s face, sadness lodged at his throat as a quiet whine released with every breath.

“I never wanted this for you but this is just the way things turned out.” At Harry’s ashamed look Dumbledore squeezed his hand reassuringly. “The blame falls on me, not you. I only hope that you would find it in your heart to forgive me for all that I put you through and the sacrifices that may arise in the future.”

Harry sniffed. “I forgive you, Professor.”

“You’re very kind, Harry. I’m such a fool for not trusting you sooner.” Dumbledore appeared to lose the fight to keep his eyes open and laid there for several seconds in silence. “The future is not set on stone. It is best that you prepare to fully pass the baton to Severus.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” Harry assured.

“You are a better man than m-,” Dumbledore let out a long exhale but his breath never returned.

Harry felt the weight of his passing like a physical wound as he squeezed what was left of his Headmaster’s warmth from his hand and howled in grief into the older man’s chest. As time melted away, Dumbledore’s body grew colder until there was nothing left and he became the shell of a man he once was.

Snape patiently waited while Harry mourned and it was only when he delicately placed Dumbledore’s head back on the ground that Harry was shaken from his grief.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked. There was a desperation there that surprised even him.

“I rather not be here when you call the aurors.”

“The aurors?” Harry looked back at Dumbledore, placing the hand he held across the man’s abdomen. “We can’t. We have to bury him.”

Snape looked incredulous. “Do you know who this is? He’s one of the most powerful wizards of this century, he can’t be hidden away. People will know.”

Harry shook his head unwilling to listen to more. “No, we have to bury him and we have to do it in order to not affect the other Dumbledore’s timeline. No one can know.”

“We? Timeline?” Snape’s eyes hardened. “You don’t dictate what I do.”

Harry paled, raising his hands in surrender. “No, I’d never-“

“What madness have you pulled me into?” Snape interjected, his wand raising slightly in warning.

“No!” Harry yelled distressed. “Please, listen.”

Harry followed him to a stand watching as Snape’s wand rose to aim at his throat.

“Give me one good reason to stay.”

Harry froze and gulped. “We traveled back in time.”

By the look on Snape’s face it didn’t seem like he even considered it.

“We were only supposed to go back a few hours.” Harry watched him closely for his reaction to his admission, fully expecting him to loom over him and poke fun at his mistakes as Snape did as his Professor. “I bungled it and here we are 18 years in the past instead of four hours.”

Snape coldly scrutinized him but eventually dropped his wand waving it over Dumbledore instead. “Empty out all his pockets.”

“What?” Harry stared dumbstruck.

“His pockets. It sounds like he kept a lot hidden from you. I would hate to have to exhumate his remains further down the line for clues. Might as well do it now.” Snape whipped his wand back at Harry. “Move.”

It made sense in the grander scheme of things but Harry felt it disrespectful to take anything from Dumbledore. Still, he found himself kneeling back down and emptying the older man’s pockets and moving it to his own. Initially, Harry pulled out relatively normal things like handkerchiefs, a coin purse, a cigarette lighter, a sneakoscope, a few books, phoenix quills, letters and muggle documents. It was when Harry began taking out entire tea sets, and a plethora of rolled socks that he began to wonder if Dumbledore had an undetectable extension charm cast on his pockets. Just when he thought he took out the last of Dumbledore’s belongings, a snitch whistled out, grazing Harry’s cheek before he could catch it. Thankfully, Snape petrified it in place and plucked it while it was midair.

“Is that all of it?”

“I think so.” Harry shoved his hands in all the pockets just in case. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Good. Now, step away.” Snape flourished his wand.

“Wait!” Harry stood in front of Dumbledore’s body, arms outstretched protectively. “What are you doing?”

“I was under the impression you wanted my help burying him.”

“Not here! Dumbledore can sense even the smallest traces of magic. He’ll investigate it.”

Snape scoffed. “You could hardly expect me to go traversing through town with a disillusioned body. They have wards in place to prevent such spells.”

“What about a muggle cemetery? We’d at least be able to put a tombstone.”

Snape stilled as if he were contemplating it. “Do you have one in mind?”

Harry flushed, embarrassed. “No.”

With a swish of Snape’s wand, Dumbledore disappeared. “Do you know how to apparate?”

“I don’t have a license.” Harry said honestly.

“Perfect,” Snape said sarcastically. He outstretched his arm towards Harry. “Come along, then. I don’t have all day.”

Harry reached Snape by the time the man bent down to touch the disillusioned Dumbledore. Upon making contact, Harry felt the familiar pull in his navel before the world fell away in a stream of colors. In no time at all, they arrived at their destination with Harry briefly staggering until his view of the world righted itself.

They were the only living beings present within the muggle cemetery. It was bare of any greenery with the exception of the occasional wilting bouquet in front of well-tended memorials.

Snape began casting protection spells in quick succession creating a dome over the small cemetery that deterred muggles from looking their way by suddenly recalling something urgent they missed. When the wards were in place, Harry trailed after Severus on the cobblestone path stopping past a roundabout in front of a simple grave marker that read:

IN MEMORY OF

EILEEN SNAPE NEE PRINCE

30 NOVEMBER 1940 - 9 JANUARY, 1972

There was something about her name that niggled at the back of his mind but it didn’t last long for the tombstone next to hers drew Harry’s attention.

FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS

OUR BELOVED FATHER

RICHARD P EVANS

9 APRIL 1925 - 3 MAY 1979

 

BELOVED MOTHER AND WIFE

CAMELLIA J EVANS NEE GARDNER

1 AUGUST 1929 - 17 JULY 1974

YOU WERE TAKEN FROM US TOO SOON.

“Evans?” Harry whispered.

“Yes. This is the Evans family plot. While they were alive, Lily’s parents so graciously assisted me in handling my mother’s affairs. After Mr. Evans passed on last month, he bequeathed me a section of the plot for myself.”

Harry stared at his grandparent’s grave markers. There was a single Lily in a glass vase, in front of each one. It appeared well taken care of. Harry placed a hand atop of their headstone as he reread the date of his grandfather’s death.

He missed him by a month.

If he came earlier he probably could have seen what he looked like. Harry shook the thought from his head remembering something Dumbledore had once said, ‘It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.’ There was no sense mourning in what could have been. There was nothing he could do.

The ground trembled beneath their feet as Snape raised his hand alongside his wand. The gap widened between Eileen and Richard’s grave markers allowing enough space to place another tombstone.

With a forceful swipe downward, Snape nonverbally managed to excavate a grave in seconds. Harry was impressed by all the man could do at his young age. It was beyond his own capabilities.

Snape erected rocks from the earth and fashioned it into a coffin. Removing the spell from Dumbledore, Harry witness Snape levitated the older man and carefully placed him within. Even though Harry felt overwhelmingly sad, he found that his eyes remained dry and he felt guilty for it.

All too soon, the lid of the coffin sealed into place and was lowered into the ground with magic. The earth swallowed the casket, the ground appearing as if it were never disturbed. Snape fashioned another grave marker using stone and erected it above the burial site.

“What’s your last name?” Asked Snape, wand posed over the newly erected grave marker.

Harry hesitated to say but he was not exactly sure why. “Why do you want to know?”

“I can’t exactly put Albus Dumbledore. Besides, we need a story for why you’re here. Having your grandfather, who just recently passed away, as your only caretaker seems a good a story as any.”

Harry shuffled in place and mumbled. “I don’t want to use my surname.”

Snape clicked his teeth in annoyance and knelt in front of the stone. “Fine, we’ll use this one. It’ll support your sob story.”

In his spidery scrawl, Snape wrote on the grave marker.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

ALBUS D PRINCE

21 AUGUST 1881 – 30 JUNE 1979

As the words appeared, the font began to change and match the other tombstones much to Harry’s amazement.

“If there’s anything you want to add later on, you could tell me and I’ll teach you the spell.” Snape stood and backed a few steps as if to examine his handiwork. “It’s missing something… Ah, yes.”

Snape spiraled the tip of his wand on the palm of his hand slowly revealing a crystal vase with a stem of white orchids sprouting from within. He then placed it in front of the grave marker mirroring the placement of the other graves.

“I will now refer to you as Harry Prince. Do you approve?”

Harry nodded. A question slipping to the forefront of his mind just out of his reach.

Snape turned to face him, eyes scanning his, serious. “I’m assuming you want to stick by me.”

Harry confirmed he did with a gesture.

“Know now that if you do decide to stay with me, it will be hard. You would have to enable your survival mindset just to get by. I have nothing to offer you but knowledge and that won’t fill your stomach.”

Harry gulped, eyes wide.

“Based on your recent adventures, I would presume you would do what’s necessary in order to fend for yourself.” Snape pointed at Harry. “If you want me alive, if you want me to help you then you’ll do as I say. Did I make myself clear?”

Harry fought to inch back. From now he would be in Snape’s mercy. “Crystal, sir.”

Snape’s brow furrowed, clearly annoyed as he sized him up. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” Harry watched as Snape’s expression soured and he was quick to amend. “I’ll be of age on the last day of July.”

“Doesn’t matter. You could still fall under the trace. It’s safer if you don’t do magic.” Snape turned to leave, dropping the enchantment and wards as he went.

“At all?” Harry stomped after him. “I’ll be a sitting duck if I don’t train. If I were still in school I would still be using magic.”

“That’s precisely why you haven’t been caught yet.” Snape said over his shoulder as he followed the path back through the cemetery entrance. “Hogwarts students are on their way back as we speak, the Ministry may not expect an underage wizard to be traveling the countryside. You’re fortunate you had someone like Dumbledore to dampen your magical signature.”

Was Snape right? Was he running off luck?

So, no magic for a month?

He must have said it aloud because Snape responded, “I didn’t say that. Let’s go.”

Harry followed closely behind being careful not to accidentally step on Snape’s robes as they left the cemetery and out into the main road. “Where are we going?”

“We are going to collect food.” Snape crossed the road following the river to lushes green hills and woods.

Harry tried to match his steps but he found it difficult to do especially when Snape hiked up a steep hill like a mountain goat all while managing to control his breathing. Harry considered himself to be very athletic and trained often with his Quidditch team but Snape seemed to be on a whole other level of athleticism. The man didn’t look scrawny by any means but there was a sturdiness to his posture than belied his thin frame.

Five minutes later, Harry wondered why they didn’t just apparate to their destination.

At some point, the river split into a small creak and they followed that down to a farm. Snape stealthily hopped over the fence, making sure to crouch low to not be seen over the fields of wheat.

Harry followed suit. “What are we doing?” He whispered loudly.

“Take two of everything. Every fruit. Every vegetable. Pull the potatoes but only take two. I’ll go get us a couple eggs and some dirt.” Snape then disillusioned himself.

“What!” Harry whispered loudly. Were they going to steal?

There was no response.

He wasn’t opposed to stealing unless it was absolutely necessary but he supposed this fell under the category of “fending for yourself.”

Harry crouched in place looking over the long stalks of plants and wondering what on earth they were. He had never been to a farm, and his school really didn’t advertise plants beyond his primary school education. It was as if his teachers expected him to suddenly know the different varieties of rice. He knew Aunt Petunia was familiar with it, but for the most part Harry couldn’t really tell the difference. Not at ten. Perhaps now at sixteen, when he’s had time to practice his attention to detail.

Harry scanned the area for a basket or anything to hold the food but couldn’t find anything. He then tried to see if there was anything in one of his pockets but other than the tea set and socks nothing was big enough. In the other pocket was the invisibility cloak he had stuff away before they left to go find the cave and Harry pulled it out, staring at it deep in thought.

It felt so long ago. Dumbledore was dead, Harry was stuck in the past trying to unfuck his fuckery.

He missed Ginny.

Harry shook the thoughts from his head before his emotions overwhelmed him again.

Right. The invisibility cloak. He could use it as a makeshift bag of sorts. He spread out his cloak on the ground searching his surroundings.

Snape said to pull the plants, right?

Harry pulled the two stalks closest to him, root and all, and threw it in the center of his cloak.

Nodding in approval at his handiwork.

He began harvesting everything he could see, returning when his hands were full to pile it on top of his cloak. Harry was pretty sure most were weeds but it was hard to tell what anything was when none of them bore fruit yet. Something yellow caught his eye, and he bent lower to inspect it.

Was that a yellow berry? Did he collect one of these already?

Harry shrugged.

What was one more?

He dug around it, prepared to pull it from the root.

“Hey!”

Harry swirled in place, stumbling back on the ground upon seeing two middle age men.

“It’s not him,” said the man in the green jacket, adjusting his flat cap. “Just another raven.”

The man next to him snorted, leaning back in leisure as he put his hands in the pocket of his grey vest. “More like a crow. This one s’not fully grown.” He walked away, calling over his shoulder, “You handle this one. I’ll check ter see if there’s another one.”

The man in front of him waved his friend off, closing the distance between them. Instead of confronting Harry, the man knelt in front of the invisibility cloak. “Let’s see what you got here.”

The man, examined his horde and set it aside, his face scrunching in confusing when he picked up the next pair. “You weeding my farm, boy?”

Harry’s heart leapt to his throat.

“N-no, sir.” He stammered.

“Two of each,” the man mumbled dropping a stalk before assessing him. “Hmm. You must be a raven in training. You know our raven, boy?”

Harry gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. “I-I don’t know of any raven, sir.”

“Hmm. Name’s John.” The man replied dismissively as he stood up. He shot Harry an amused look. “You’re not in trouble, son. Shake the dirt of ya and follow me.”

Harry watched John’s back as he walked away before he slowly stood to follow him making sure to stay at least one step behind the man.

Where was he taking him? Why do they never tell him where they’re going?

A knot formed in Harry’s gut.

“Our raven has been stealing from us for years. We know his patterns.” John led him through a trail and stopped at an iron gate, hanging his arm on it as he casually spoke to Harry. “Stealing is putting it loosely. Trading is more the term. Just like the ravens, we never know what he’s going to give us.”

John rummaged through his pockets.

“I always carry one of his gifts just in case I catch him just so I can ask him what it is.” He pulled out a vial and handed it to Harry. “Here take a look.”

Harry hesitantly inspected the golden liquid inside in confusion.

“You don’t know what it is either?”

John reached out to take it back but Harry instead unstoppered it to confirm his suspicions. The strong scent of peppermint wafted under his nose, the liquid fizzling when it was reintroduced to air.

“It’s Pepper Up.” He handed the vial back to John, stunned. “It cures colds.”

John raised his brows and pursed his lips, an expression Harry had always interpreted as an intermix of surprise and approval. “Not bad. The raven thinks he’s a chemist.”

Harry chuckled nervously.

“C’mon then.”

The gate whined when Jack pushed it open and Harry followed him in. There was no path to walk on, the garden was green with all manner of plants.

“This here is our nursery. It’s meant to be our backup in case the fields were raided.” He waved a hand as if presenting it to Harry. “We started this for the raven but we could never catch him in the act to tell him. Pass the word along, would you and take your pick.”

Harry stared dumbfounded at John’s back as he left.

“And close the gate behind you when you leave!” He said over his shoulder.

Quote from JaySM on April 22, 2024, 5:10 am

Prompt: Challenge 03- The Half-Blood Muggle

Characters/Pairings: None

Rating/Warnings: Rated M / AU, OOC, Cringe, Not Beta Read, Rushed Ending, Profanity and Violence

Summary: A time skip on another challenge I wrote under “Contempt” (Challenge 26).

This is set in winter of 1979. Where Severus has already joined the military after altering his Life Certificate to reflect him being older than what he is. He passes through extensive training and hardship only to become a hired mercenary for the Order. This is a continuation of his tale.

Severus pumped his arms, stretching his legs as he raced through the brush to find cover in the light of twilight. The sling that held his rifle in place dug into his shoulder as it jostled with every step he took. His dark eyes scanned the exterior of the vacant houses he passed by, looking for something, anything that could shield him from view.

He struggled to breath in the cold air as it painfully filled his lungs. His strength was beginning to wane from how long he’s been working them.

He’s trained for this. On any other given day he wouldn’t tire this easily but the combination of the chill of the approaching winter along with the excitement and fear drained him of his abilities.

An explosion of sound that left his ears ringing and teeth rattling momentarily distorted his view.

They’re close. Too close.

His survival instincts kicked in and his legs led him to the closest house, pressing himself against the back door as he regained his breath. He licked his dry lips as his numb, clammy hands sought the comfort of the grip of his rifle. Beyond the ringing, he could feel his body tingle at the presence of magic building up before another thunderous sound erupted. He felt it more than he heard it as the door tremored at his back reverberating the vibration through his rib cage.

He sucked his teeth in annoyance.

The longer he stayed out here the more dangerous it was. If he could use magic undetected, he would have already opened any one of these doors and settled himself inside but he wasn’t dealing with the average witch and wizard. No, the Death Eaters were an extremist group who were willing to use whatever means necessary to reach their end goal of total domination. They were cruel and violent when they were out in the field and their flippant use of irreparable dark magic made them deadly as well.

Although they were a powerful force, not all of them were trained to detect magic and track whose it was. But Severus would be a fool to underestimate them. So regardless of how nerve-racking it was to do this the muggle way, it had to be done.

As the seconds ticked away, his hearing began to return. Severus’ own breath sounded loud in the silence. The chill was lodged painfully in his throat and he struggled to warm it with a swallow before inching his way to the corner of the house.

A male guffaw could be heard a distance away and Severus took a risk to peer around the corner to see the silhouette of a group in the shadows across a nearby hedge. In the light of the dying sun, he could tell their backs were facing him by the way they held their wands and the movement of their cloaks.

Keeping his profile low, he walked quickly in a crouch to the next house, glaring at the closed door as he passed it to trace the guttering above him to the downpipe.

Could he climb it? He wouldn’t mind being on the roof right about now.

He grabbed the pipe and shook it slightly to test if it could both take his weight and do so silently when he heard something unzip before the unmistakable sound of someone urinating followed.

Severus’ breath hitched as he stilled.

“Oi!”

There was a loud irritated sigh coming from the man relieving himself. “It’s still just me.”

“Sorry, Mister Rosier, sir. One can never be certain.”

A strange silence befell the area with only the sound of a steady stream hitting the hard earth below.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?”

Rosier growled low in warning but the man seemed undeterred.

“All these houses. Empty. Not one muggle. You think they knew?”

The flow stopped.

Severus could feel his body tense as the air filled with magic, thick and violent.

“Of course they were warned beforehand, you idiot!” Rosier seethed. “I was led to believe you could pick up non-verbal cues. Clearly, I gave you too much credit. Get out of my sight and patrol somewhere else!"

The tension in the air released like a bolt of lightning.

There was a yelp, and the sound of the other man stammering out an apology as he his footsteps shuffled away.

Severus waited with bated breath as the footsteps were replaced with the sound of trickling as Rosier returned to relieving himself.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Severus unhooked one of the gloves from his belt loop and fed his hand through the gap. Upon contact, the glove began to glow a sickly green colour. A thick film of what looked like plasma coating the entirety of the glove. Like most things on Severus’ person, this was another one of his inventions, one he had altered to be able to endure the toxicities of his potions leaving the wearer unharmed.

Severus appeared to be gliding as he quickly closed the distance between Rosier and himself. With the brush of his fingertips, Rosier froze, the veins protruding from his exposed skin spasming as it turned black. He stood rigidly in place, his muscles contracting in to an unheard rhythm until he began to violently seize. Just as his knees gave away, the skin blackened. Rosier’s strained last breath escaped him as he inaudibly fell to the ground disintegrating into a pile of ash.

Severus stayed long enough to confirm the man’s demise before removing his glove and re-joining it with its pair.

Just as he was returning back to the downpipe, Severus spotted an open door to the house right next to him. He veered right, lifting his gaze to the first floor altering his direction to get a better look at it away from view.

The entire outer wall was decimated exposing the room behind it. Debris was scattered all over the floor with a tiny slither of floral wall paper hanging limply down the opening. Severus could tell the shattered support beams were going to be a problem as well as manoeuvring through the rubble quietly but he was willing to risk it.

He place his heel of his boot down first as he rolled it to his toes weaving through the remnants of what was left of the door on the floor. He felt more secure now that he was inside but that didn’t stop him from raising his weapon at the ready not even bothering to look through the sights when the target would be this close. The cupboards were open, shards of fine china littered the ground and as he walked through the corridor to head up the stairs. The glass from a fallen portrait glistened on the hardwood floors, the family within cheerily smiling from within their frames.

The deeper he went into the house, the darker it became and Severus was grateful for his wizarding sight which slightly amplified his vision in the dark. The stairs creaked with every step he took, his footsteps muffled by the carpet runner that extended past the landing throughout the corridor leading to each room.

Severus went through the opening to what he knew led to room he saw from outside. He startled himself when he walked into a long thick string hanging from the ceiling. He looked around the room to finish clearing it of any potential threat before returning back to what looked to be the entrance to an attic. He pulled the string to open the hatch and strained his muscles to hold the loft ladder with the hatch door to prevent it from making too much noise. He eventually eased the ladder down and held the strap of his rifle to prevent it from hitting anything as he went up.

Before he even reached the top, Severus could see that the room was considerable much brighter. A chunk of the roof was blown away leaving the room exposed to the elements. Severus pushed a storage box away to hoist himself up.

There was barely any headroom within the attic but he didn’t mind, he wasn’t planning on standing much.

He retracted the loft ladder back up and closed the hatch.

Once he was done here, there would be no point in hiding his magic.

Severus knelt on the dusty floor and rifled through his cargo pockets and pulled out a short bipod. He squeezed the legs to compress the coils and carefully rotated the metal eyelid into place so it was mounted on the base of the barrel. He extending the legs and loosened his sling as he laid down to a prone, keeping his weapon elevated as he low crawled to the large hole left in the attic.

The sky was grey blue and stars already began to twinkle in the distance. Severus could see atop the rooftops and plumes of smoke rising from burning homes in the distance. He didn’t have time to pity the lives that may have been lost. He left that responsibility to the Order and they got themselves caught. Now here he was saving them for what he hoped would be the last time.

Severus pulled what appeared to be prescription glasses from one of his chest pockets and unfolded its silvery end pieces and positioned it on his face. Looking through them, the world melted into darkness where the only thing that could be seen were glowing silhouettes of witches and wizards. It was a tricky bit of potion and charm work that took an embarrassing amount of people to complete but they managed to complete the glasses that showed life forms. More specifically the magical signature of witches and wizards.

They were shit glasses otherwise. He hadn’t figured out how to alter it to show the environment as well but for now, they would do just fine.

Severus ignored the dark browns, and the putrid yellows, these were magical signatures of some of the Death Eaters. The colours exposed their dark intentions which corrupted their magic.

No, he was looking for a particular colour, one that was reminiscent to the grey of a dementor’s skin.

Once he found it, he cursed.

The target was considerably further away than he expected.

He pulled his glasses down the bridge of his hooked nose to peer over at the general direction of his target. There were a lot of obstacles between them.

Severus sighed as he pressed his glasses back up until it sat snugly in place.

No matter. He had faith in his inventions. He knew their limit.

With practice ease, Severus ejected the magazine and verified the ammo within. The rounds glowed an eerie shimmery blue colour against the white of its casing. There was a lot of magic and potion work behind it, and Severus chose not to question why the glasses picked up on it even though it wasn’t a lifeform.

As long as it got the job done.

Severus smacked the butt of the magazine back into its slot and turned the bolt hearing the click of release as metal slid against metal as he pulled it back to chamber in a round. He wrapped his hand around the sling to make it taut and placed the butt of the rifle on the pocket of his shoulder. He let out a long exhale as he dropped his head down until his cheek rested against the comb. He closed one eye aiming down where he knew the ironsights were and let out long even breaths as he positioned his dominant hand on the grip and reminded himself not to jerk the trigger in anticipation of the recoil he knew would come.

The colours overlapped as people moved around. The more vibrant magical signatures were kneeling on the floor, then there were those intermixed with them which he assumed were muggles because of their static dull white colour as they each had their head bowed in defeat as if waiting for their execution.

More magical signatures were introduced but he only had ten rounds and he knew which ten he was going to use them on. He made sure he was very familiar with the colours they were associated with.

But first…

Severus scanned the darkness for the familiar grey. When he found it he found it difficult to fight back the pre-emptive exhilaration to securing this victory.

It’s been two years. Two years of hunting down this mad man’s soul shards to bring back his mortality so they could kill the bastard. Two years traipsing all over the UK somehow managing to lay low in order to escape his attention. He suffered through poison, starvation, burning and even the risked becoming an undead. The bastard was singlehandedly the origin of most of his misfortunes.

Severus focused his sights slightly above Voldemort’s head as he fully exhaled, he paused just long enough to slowly pull the trigger and watched in surprise as the head exploded, the body moving briefly as the colour of his magic sprayed out the top as it were a fountain.

It’s over.

It’s finally over.

Severus felt something bubble at his chest and boil over past his lips. He chuckled.

The respite was brief. He didn’t have time to enjoy the moment when a stream of colours suddenly flooding into the scene.

He needed to finish this.

Severus took aim again, chambering rounds in between each shot as he quickly fired shot after shot successfully predicting the path of his targets all within a span of seconds. The ringing in his ear reached a painful high but he ignored it knowing that it would pass.

Severus would have liked to take credit. He was an expert shooter, but no wizard could have done what he just did with a normal muggle weapon. He knew the charms in place had assisted in both piercing through the obstacles and honing in on his targets but he couldn’t help but feel accomplished.

Gone were the last three Knights of Walpulgis and the most deadliest Death Eaters to have ever been recruited. Severus even managed to get a werewolf outside of the full moon.

He let out a long sigh of relief.

He felt like a weight was lifted and he could finally breath again.

There were loud noises closing in, bright green spells aimed at the room below and Severus knew his cover was blown. He disassembled his bipod and pocketed it pulling out his wand instead. With a swipe of his front, gone were his glasses, rifle and sling, his wizarding cloak appeared over his muggle garb.

Severus used his mouth as a placement to put his wand as he slipped on his gloves which activated into a green and red colour respectively. He collected his wand by the handle and brandished it in front of him.

It was time to save the Order members.

With a running jump, Severus flew from the opening of the attic releasing a wave of potion bombs from its cartridge hidden in his cloak. He watched as the Death Eaters below him disappeared into fine mists as their screams echoed into the night as Severus descended to the streets. The streetlights flickered from all the magic he discharged.

He could imagine how he would appear to others. A dark imposing figure glowing with preternatural light but he didn’t care.

It was a beautiful evening for a walk and oddly enough, the cold didn’t seem to reach him this time.