Ashes of Armageddon

29. Intersections in the Light



He awoke from the bright glow of light shining at him through the eyelids. The pain was gone, and so were the guilt and remorse that were gripping him in a deathly embrace only a moment ago.

It was over.

His memories were still with him, all of them, but none of the horrors of the past mattered now. There was no fear or shame. There were no regrets. He was bathed in light and warmth.

His cheek was pressed to the irregular pavement. He shifted slightly. His hands were pressing against the stones, fingertips trailing the crevices between them.

It felt so... real.

Few moments in his life had been so genuine, so permeated with life and brightness. He breathed in deeply, and he could swear he could smell the sunlight.

Where was he?

Someone was tapping him on the shoulder.

“Sir! Wake up! Wake up!”

He opened his eyes, and came face to face with Harry Potter.

“You did it! You did it!” Harry's exuberance was absolutely astonishing. “I am free!”

Severus glanced at him sourly. “You are also quite dead,” he reminded him.

Harry was laughing noiselessly, cheerfully. “I don't care. Sirius was right. It is easier than falling asleep.”

“He would know,” Severus muttered, pulling himself up to stand up. “He'd slept through most of his Potions classes in his final year.”

Harry covered his mouth and snickered loudly. “You are funny.”

“I am dead,” Severus said solemnly, but the corner of his mouth was twitching into an amused smirk.

Harry looked at him intently. “Do you mind?” he asked seriously. “Being dead that is?”

Severus shook his head. “Not at all. This is...”

“... So real,” Harry completed his sentence in an awed whisper.

Severus nodded with agreement, taking in his surroundings. They were at King's Cross station, but not the one one that they had gone to together nearly two months ago in search for answers. This one was different. It was more real, more wondrous, than he had ever imagined anything could be. The benches, the platform, the pillars, the walls, and even the train-tracks were standing out sharply, each detail unspeakably poignant and utterly authentic, to the point where the physical life itself seemed to be only a faint shadow of what was right in front of him.

And more than that – he and Harry were speaking as old friends, rather than enemies. He was not despised. How was that possible? Weren't they locked in mortal combat, fighting to the death, just a few minutes ago? Didn't he just cast the Killing Curse on him?

“There is an old Muggle book; and I do not recall the author's name at the moment,” they heard a familiar voice behind them. “He supposed that transitioning into the next world changes one's perspective. He imagined that two soldiers who kill each other on the battlefield may well wake up as brothers, in each other's arms, once they get into the afterlife.”

They spun around together, and came face to face with Albus Dumbledore.

“Albus,” Severus said. “What is this place?”

“Intersection,” Albus informed them. “Life and death meet here. Welcome.”

“You aren't beyond the Veil,” Severus muttered.. “No wonder your Portrait has no memories, and we couldn't get through to you with the Resurrection Stone. What are you doing here?”

Albus forced out a faint, sad smile. “Waiting for Harry, of course,” he said softly. “How long has it been? It seemed like an awfully long time to wait.”

“You came here waiting for me... when I was about to be struck by Voldemort's Killing Curse,” Harry understood. “But I never showed up. Until now.”

“Five years later,” Severus said slowly, and glanced at Albus. “You've been here all this time? Alone? In... Limbo? Waiting for him? Never going back?”

“Not for a moment,” Albus confirmed. “I did not want to miss this appointment.”

Harry nodded. “Sorry it took me so long... I've...” He glanced at Severus hesitantly. “I'm...”

Dumbledore nodded as well, obviously becoming aware of their memories and recent experiences. “I can tell, Harry. I am sorry, too, for what it's worth. Even the best-laid plans can be foiled by random factors, such as a half-giant's old umbrella, or,” he glanced at Severus with a twinkle in his eye, “an experimental potion, that acts as a self-perpetuating Rennervate spell.”

“Or an occasional Killing Curse,” Severus said wryly. “Do you mind explaining to me why we are here, and not beyond the Veil yet? We are quite dead, are we not?”

Dumbledore chuckled softly. “Well, the dust of Tom Riddle's fragment certainly is. Excellent work, as always, Severus. And as for Harry, and yourself – that remains to be seen.” Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully. “You do know what you have done, do you not?”

“Murdered the glorified savior of the wizarding world?” Severus offered without any remorse. Next to him, Harry laughed quietly, apparently finding it very amusing.

Dumbledore shook his head solemnly. “You couldn't do that, I am afraid. The old magic of love, and blood protection stepped in to foil that plan, as well.”

“Lily's,” Severus said breathlessly. Of course, he thought, the protection of the woman he had admired for decades had been stronger than his Killing Curse.

But Albus shook his head again, and smiled.

“Not this time, Severus. This time, it was yours.”

“I beg your pardon?” Severus asked incredulously, and just a little contemptuously, wondering if Albus had gone quite mad from being stuck in limbo for five years.

Albus was chuckling softly. “You do remember, I am certain, arguing with Voldemort in the Shrieking Shack, while in the back of your mind, still scheming, and plotting to save Harry, one way or another?”

“But... that didn't amount to anything,” Severus protested. “I was wrong about everything. About who was the Master of the Elder Wand, about the plan... It was meaningless.”

“Meaningless?” Albus said sharply. “I think not. You had argued yourself into a corner, and longer, until Nagini bit you, and left you bleeding for dead in the Shrieking Shack. What you have done is shed your blood for Harry, loving him, trying to save him with your own life. And incidentally, Severus, once you do that for someone, you can no longer curse them.”

Harry was looking at Severus in speechless wonder.

Severus issued a little smug snort. “Well. In that case, give my regards to Nagini, when you see her beyond the Veil. And now, do you mind telling us what the devil were you thinking, setting the two of us up with this ridiculous slave-bond?” He asked this question without anger, or even genuine irritation. The memory of the slave-bond was still there, quite clear, but now it was not more than a trivial annoyance. There was no rage, no need to lay blame at anyone. Light and warmth enveloped him, obscuring everything else.

Albus spoke again: “I had thought it would be wise to have a backup plan, in case no-one believed you after the war,” he said. “I knew that things could go wrong. What if the Resurrection Stone ended up being lost? What if my portrait was destroyed in the war? What then?”

Severus laughed resignedly. “And additionally, you must have thought it very amusing to ensure that I had served the penance of the slave-bond under Harry Potter. You've always had a rather twisted sense of humor, Albus.”

The smile faded from the old wizard's face and he looked at Severus sadly. “Is that what you really believe?” he asked softly. “Would I do such a thing to you?”

Next to him, Harry was shaking his head. “There was never meant to be any penance,” he said quietly, apparently realizing something that had eluded them both until now. “Just... absolution.”

“Quite right, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly. “The slave-bonds are based on ancient, and I am sad to say, rather archaic laws. They are patriarchal; and can be transferred only from father to son.” Albus continued patiently: “While you are not my son legally, or biologically, we have all seen that magic itself is flexible, where love is concerned. And as far as love goes, I cannot think of anyone else I could name as my son. If you stand in my place, you can release Severus from the bond's punishment for following my orders. You can grant complete absolution. And you are the only one who can do so.”

Harry nodded quietly. “What about the rest of it? I mean... Se- Snape, he needs more freedom than that. This new slave-bond; it's permanent, and it's... like prison. ”

“And fortunately, you have the power over it,” Albus said softly. “And while you cannot annul it; you can certainly transform it, by awakening the memory of the old bond. You can change it to what the old bond used to be, that Severus and I had before.” He glanced at Severus thoughtfully. “Did you mind it, in all honesty?”

Severus shook his head. “Albus. You know that I didn't.”

Harry stared at him in astonishment.

“It wasn't mechanical, or coercive, as far as my life was concerned,” Severus explained to Harry. “It was very strong, and very powerful, but it existed for my benefit, not his. I was free both legally and physically. Free to live my own life. There was no set number of times I had to report in, or anything of the sort.” He found himself smiling at the old memories. “All it really did, was help me be more focused on what I already wanted to do. Additionally, it provided me with a measure of magical protection from my Master.”

“That's all?” Harry asked dubiously, but clearly hopefully.

“That's all,” Severus confirmed softly. “It is a common misconception that the slave-bond can generate feelings for one's Master. It cannot do that. It will nurture, sustain and amplify the feelings of loyalty and affection that arise of the person's own free will, but the bond cannot create them out of thin air.”

Harry nodded slightly, deep in thought.

“What do I do?” he asked finally. “When we go back, how do I do it? How do make the changes? Are there spells, or ... ?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Albus chuckled quietly. “Just love, and honorable intentions should do the trick.”

Harry glanced at Severus hesitantly but hopefully. “Let's go back,” he offered. “I will set this right. You will have your life back, just like you deserve.”

Albus looked at Harry with sadness, and placed a cautioning hand on his shoulder. “I never thought I would hear myself say something like this, Harry, but I will urge you both to weigh your options carefully before you choose either path.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. “It's not safe for me to go back? The fragment...”

Albus shook his head. “No, no, Harry. You don't need to worry about that. The fragment is quite destroyed. No, it's something else.”

Harry frowned, turning to face his mentor. Albus was regarding him thoughtfully. “How are you feeling, Harry?” he asked gently.

“Great,” Harry said. “Wonderful. Free. Like nothing is wrong. Like everything is going to be fine, forever.”

Albus glanced at Severus next. “And you?”

“Much the same,” Severus said sincerely.

True freedom was here, real and palpable, to the point where he could no longer believe that anything could be wrong again.

The memories of the past two months, and in fact, the memories of the past two decades were still with him, more clear than ever, but there was no anguish, or terror, or shame attached to any of them. What used to be horrifying, ceased to hold any power over him. Even Tom Riddle himself had been reduced to utter insignificance.

“That's good,” Albus said softly. “This is a place of absolute forgiveness, and absolute peace. You do realize that once you go back, it will not be the same?”

Severus looked at him with curiosity. “How will it be?”

“Quite difficult, I'm afraid,” Albus said softly. “The feelings of pain, and the guilt, and the regrets, are waiting for you back there, along with your physical bodies; and those will not just vanish, no matter what you two do. You both got broken horribly in the last war; and the brokenness of the soul and spirit cannot be instantly erased by honorable intentions, understanding, forgiveness, or even love.” The old wizard looked at them with sadness that did not seem to belong among the light and warmth that enveloped them. “I am not sure that your lives will be happy, at least as most people understand happiness. My advice is that you think about it for a while, before you make your choice.” He stood up abruptly. “And as for me, whatever you choose to do, I trust that I will speak to you soon..”

He walked away from them, and disappeared in a burst of sunlight, that bore the shape of Phoenix wings.

Severus shrugged, dumbfounded. He trusted his old mentor, but at this point, he could not quite understand what Albus was saying. He turned his head; next to him, Harry was looking at him expectantly.

“What do you think, Sir?” Harry asked.

Severus shrugged. “Well. The rational part of me thinks we should probably heed his warning, and remain in the afterlife.” He paused briefly, considering what had been said. “However, the afterlife will still be here fifty years from now.”

“I want to return,” Harry said firmly. “I know what he said – about the pain, or guilt, or fear... but I don't mind. Maybe because right now, in this moment, I don't really even remember what those feel like. Besides,” he added apologetically, “the way I understand our bond, is that you can only go back if I do, too.”

“True,” Severus mused. “Still, I cannot help but wonder if we will regret going back.”

“We might,” Harry agreed excitedly. “But let's do it anyway.”

Severus glanced at him with amusement. “Foolish Gryffindor. Rushing from real life into afterlife, and then back, like there is nothing to it.”

“There is nothing to it,” Harry insisted. “Okay, maybe it will be hard.. but I think if we ever start regretting going back, all we need to do is remember this place. Who knows... maybe we can bring a part of it back with us.”

Severus chuckled softly, casting another glance at the train platform around him. It was empty, but so full of light, so filled with life and wonder. Harry sat down on the edge of the platform recklessly, his legs dangling over the train-tracks.

“You shouldn't do that,” Severus said disapprovingly, but then, when Harry turned around and looked at him with amusement, he shrugged and joined him.

“Want to hear something funny?” Harry asked quietly.

“Always.”

“I loved you once. For about forty-five minutes or so. I loved you.”

Severus snorted derisively. “I think I may have destroyed one too many of your brain-cells with the Killing Curse.”

Harry poked him with an elbow. “I mean it. Can you guess when?”

“No, but I suspect you are about to tell me.”

“After I've seen your memories,” Harry said quietly. “Then I knew the real you. How you were always looking after me, in spite of how we've been feuding all the time. But then, it was too late to do anything about it.” Harry's eyes drifted off to the train-tracks, and followed them, until they met the horizon. “So ... when I walked into the Forbidden Forest, I was... thinking about all the people who ever loved me... and I was thinking about you, too. Then I realized that you really did love me, in your own way, and then, once I had realized that, I loved you back. I used the Resurrection Stone to raise my parents. Sirius and Remus, too. We all walked together for a while... then we reached the place... I dropped the stone, and I was alone again.” Harry grinned sheepishly. “Then, for a few moments, I got scared again. Really scared. I wasn't going to run or anything, but I was afraid. Then I thought about you again; and as far as I knew, you had just died... and then I thought, maybe you would be the first one I'd see once I got into afterlife. Then, as soon as I had thought that, I didn't mind dying anymore, not even a little bit.” Harry glanced at him mischievously. “Funny, huh?”

“Hilarious,” Severus said dryly. “You loved me for half an hour?”

Harry nodded with furious conviction. “A little longer than that. Not like I loved Ginny... not like I loved my friends... differently... but loved.” He averted his eyes and stared at the tracks again. “I know forty-five minutes isn't much. But that was the only time in my life when I knew the real you, and when that Dust of Voldemort's wasn't stuck in my brain.” Harry turned his head and gazed at him intently. “You know, when we go back, I will love you again. More than ever. You know this, don't you?”

Severus found himself laughing softly. “Harry, that was five years ago. You were disoriented and confused...”

Harry shrugged, unconcerned. “So what else is new? I spent most of my life being disoriented and confused. I still know what love is.” Harry tugged on his sleeve. “Let's go back,” he urged gently. “It'll be fine. Hermione, Ron, Neville and Hugo would miss you too much if you chose to stay behind. And I'll make things right. I promise.”

Severus found himself believing the reckless words so easily and quickly that all he could do was laugh.

“Alright,” he said peacefully. “We've come this far, we may as well give it a try.”

No sooner than he had said those words, he found himself lying on the hardwood floor. His left hand was under Harry's head, supporting it, and his right hand was wrapped around him protectively. He opened his eyes, and winced slightly against the physical discomfort that was rolling in again.

The warm afterglow of the ethereal train station had began to fade. He sighed slightly and attempted to hold on to the blissful feelings, but they were slipping away, until they were gone, and the grim reality of his surroundings set in again.

He almost swore under his breath. How could he lose something so precious, something so warm, something so real, so quickly? How could he not manage to hold on to it?

Harry stirred slightly in his arms.

Severus touched him on the shoulder hesitantly. “Harry?” he said softly. “Wake up. Harry?”

Green eyes flew open and fixed on him.

“What...” Harry whispered quietly. His breathing was short and irregular, as if he had been running for a long time, and only now was permitted to stop.

“Everything is fine,” Severus found himself saying. “You hear me? We made it.”

His words did not appear to be registering at all, as Harry frowned slightly, as if trying to sort through the thoughts, or perhaps, memories, flooding him.

His left arm still supporting Harry's head, Severus brought his right hand to touch Harry's forehead. Harry's face was flushed with fever.

“Harry,” Severus said again. “Look at me.”

The green eyes stared at him, and stopped at his forehead, apparently looking at the salve-brand. Then, they looked away, and widened, as they encountered the blood-quill scar on the back of Severus' right hand.

Harry sat up abruptly, and stared at his own hands. His fingertips were stained with blood. He looked around, and his eyes fell on the nail, lying on the floor, and the blood-stained knife, carelessly cast next to it. Next to the knife, lay a dozen or so thin, small bloodied strips of human skin.

Severus was watching him with concern.

“Harry, say something.”

Harry opened his mouth, and for the first few moments, no sound came out.

Then, he screamed.




...To Be Continued...

Author's Note:

Well, I have been planning to finish this story fairly soon, but decided that I am not quite ready to do that. Looks like this story will have two books. Specifically, the story will contain:

1. Book One The Dark Half - almost over!

2. Interlude

3. Book Two The Void


Book Two will likely be less dark and scary than Book One, but probably a bit sadder in some parts.

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