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A/N Sorry had to rush out to work this morning, but I promised three chapters today, here's number three. Thanks Kim and TQA for the usual brilliant support. Thank you all for your very kind reviews, we are nearly at the end of this story, there are two more chapters to come, they should be up in the next few days.

Chapter Forty-Four


Farid was still wandering; he really didn’t know how long he had been in this place and he felt so lost. The landscape was weird - dark and full of strange, distorted images oozing out of a chasm, slowly distorting the world even further. He kept looking at the chasm that he had found in the centre of this strange unfathomable world; going back to it time after time. It was dark and sinister and beyond comprehension. Farid shivered; he wished Master was here with him, he desperately wanted a hug.

The chasm frightened him; it was deep and mysterious and the distorted images that it spewed just came thicker and faster. Every so often, Farid would catch sight of one of his friends, but they always seemed to be in the distance, just going round a corner or disappearing out of view.

Even worse, he had on occasion seen or heard Yusuf, or Vernon Dursley, they were looking for him he thought and so he was hiding.

Once or twice he had seen Master, but he was always talking to someone else, his attention elsewhere as Farid tried to go to him. Usually, as Farid drew nearer, he would turn and walk away, and then Uncle Vernon or Yusuf would appear in the distance and Farid would have to flee

Finally, after weeks of searching he thought he found somewhere that he would be safe; he was standing outside a room, it seemed to be a nursery and there was a very small boy inside, playing with toys that he would take out of a basket and shake or rattle or chew. Farid smiled; it looked so protected in there, so welcoming. He watched the child playing for a moment or two and then, and then he was the child, the child was himself, and all at once Farid knew where he was.

This was his own head, he was trapped in his mind; these were his memories. The chasm was where he had hit his head when he fell. He was dying; it was killing him slowly, destroying his mind and smothering him with darkness.

Yusuf could not hurt him here, could not damage him, because he was only a memory. He was in the past, their connection was finished. Vernon Dursley was no more than a phantasm either; he too could no longer hurt Farid.

But then what of the bond? Farid had seen no evidence for it; he had searched this place for weeks and it seemed to be gone. Had Master gone too? Had he died already?

Farid had seen him fall, felt the tear inside him that must have been the destruction of the bond, he remembered now. But if it was gone, truly destroyed, then Master must have gone too, and Farid didn’t think he could handle that. How could he carry on in a world without Master, even if the bond would allow it?

He looked down at himself, yet not himself. Those knees were not his knees; they were the chubby fat little legs of a toddler. He looked around at the room in which he sat; it was bright and jolly. An animated frieze decorated the wall, magical animals chased each other in a perpetual circle painted in shining colours, reds and blues and golds. He didn’t remember this room, was he back at his uncle’s? Was this Dudley’s room?

But then he heard a woman’s voice. It was beautiful, melodic; he thought he could listen to it forever. He turned his head to see she who had spoken and saw bright emerald eyes, so like his own, and vibrant copper hair.

“Harry.” She was smiling this woman, smiling at him and her face was full of love and wonder. He knew her, of course he did. She was Lily Potter and he was her son.

And all at once he knew: A long time ago, before Master, before the bad things that had happened to him happened, before the Dursley’s, before Yusuf, he had been a little boy called Harry Potter who’s parents had loved him very much.

“Come on, my little man,” his mother was saying softly, “come to Mummy. You can do it, you can come.”

She was standing by the door; she had her arms outstretched and, behind her, Farid could see a bright inviting light that spoke of home and love and comfort, a light that was calling to him.

He struggled to his feet - it wasn’t easy, he was very wobbly, but he managed. He pushed himself up, stretching his arms wide in front of himself, looking for balance.

“Come on sweetie,” his mother was saying, “you can do it, my clever boy.”

Farid laughed, his mother was proud of him. It didn’t sound like his laugh though, it sounded like a gurgle.

But his mother’s arms were spread wide and they looked so safe, so inviting that Farid could not help himself, he took a step forward on shaky legs.

His mother was laughing too.

She called out to someone just beyond the doorway, “James, James, come and see! He’s walking, he’s doing it; our Harry’s coming back to us.”

Then his mother was joined by a laughing man with a big smile and sparkling hazel eyes, “Well done, my Harry,” he was saying. “Clever boy, come on then, son. Come on, come to Daddy!”

And then, all at once, Farid wasn’t a baby anymore; he was himself, all grown. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye; a tear of sadness for those he was leaving behind, a tear of regret. Maybe this was the right decision? He hoped so. Maybe it was time for him to go onwards?

His parents didn’t seem to care that he had changed - they were still there and they still had their arms held wide. They were smiling at him, welcoming him. The light was behind them, warm and inviting, calling him, still calling him, onward to another realm. He didn’t have to stay here any longer in this scary place, he could chose to move forward to be somewhere that he would never again know the pain, the loneliness that he had had to endure in his life. He could go somewhere that he could be happy, and maybe Master was waiting for him on the other side of the light?

So Farid took another step and another - it got easier with each small stride. He squared his shoulders and continued towards them, walking towards the light, finally going home.


Severus was sitting beside Farid as he did each day, at least for some of the time - he had had to go back to teaching eventually, after all. Albus was here too and Ron, Hermione, Draco and Neville. It had become a bit of a tradition with them now: they would visit Farid before dinner and talk to him, tell him about the day they had had, and what was planned for later. And afterwards, after dinner, Severus would return alone or with Tariq, who missed his bright and active little master and sit with Farid until bedtime. Perhaps doing a bit of marking, perhaps reading a book, but simply keeping his lover company, because he knew how Farid hated to be alone. He owed him so much, his boy, they all did. But it had been five weeks now and Farid had still not woken.

Poppy continued to contest that Farid was dying, that the essence that had been Farid was no more, but still Severus would not let him go. He insisted that Poppy feed the boy magically, that he be monitored, kept clean and dry.

Once or twice he had tried to enter Farid’s mind, and had found nothing but confusion and darkness, although he refused to believe that that meant that Farid was lost. Severus believed that somewhere on the other side of the darkness, Farid was trapped. But if they kept talking to him, telling him that they loved him, that they missed him, someday, somehow Farid would find his way home.

He was talking to Albus about the advanced potions class - it would soon be time for them to take their exams, he was quite worried about Anthony Goldstein, who seemed to have become stuck in a rut. He was just about to mention this to the Headmaster when Hermione screamed.

“Farid Oh Farid! Help him, help him, he has stopped breathing!”

Severus whirled round to look at the boy and sure enough his chest had stilled. Farid had indeed stopped breathing; his eyes still stared ahead unseeingly and Severus mouthed the word ‘no.’

But then, all at once, he saw a glimmer of hope; for out of the corner of Farid’s eye, a tear had emerged, it was making its way slowly along his cheek. Severus lunged forward; he grabbed Farid’s cold pale cheeks in his hands and peered deep into his eyes - somewhere deep, deep inside he saw just the trace of a glint of light.

He wrenched his cloak off. “Take this, Miss Granger. I am going in, he is not dead yet!”

“No my boy,” It was Albus. “I cannot let you do that, he has gone. He was a wonderful boy, a glorious individual, but we have lost him, let him die in peace.”

Severus almost screamed in frustration - he did not have time for this. Instead, he turned towards Albus with fury in his eyes.

“Just back off, old man!” he yelled. “Stay away from me and from him. You have meddled in his life one time too many; there is something alive in Farid, I saw it! I am going to find it and bring it back.”

“But Severus,” Dumbledore looked shocked by his outburst, “if you go into his mind now and he dies, we could lose you too.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he said, more softly this time. “My life is nothing without Farid, without him I might as well be dead. Ron,” he said turning to the redhead, and jerking his own head in the direction of the Headmaster, “take out your wand; if he tries to hinder me in any way, hex him.” Then without more ado he took his own wand, peered deep into Farid’s eyes and said, “legilimens.”

Then Severus was falling and falling, through darkness, through space. He had never had the courage to let go before in quite this way. He did not know what was ahead, but for Farid, for his dearest love, it was worth the risk.

He was seeing images now - they were memories. Severus felt that he had fallen into a painting by Heironymus Bosch, so hideous, so nightmarish were the pictures before him. He had thought that he had known it all, what had happened to Farid, but seeing it, seeing the boy’s dreadful memories broke something in Severus and he knew that if he ever came out of this, he would never be the same again.

Then, all at once, he had landed. He was lying on a grass slope by the lake at Hogwarts, the sun was shining and it was warm: he was in a memory. A shadow fell over him, a shape, and he looked up. Whoever it was, he was standing in front of the sun and he could not see him clearly.

Then he heard a voice: it was familiar and, at the same time, quite changed - a boy’s voice, deep but not yet as deep as it would one day be.

“Hello, Master,” said the voice, “I wondered when you would come for me?”

Severus sat up.

“Farid?” he said, “Farid, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” the voice said, a little grumpily, Severus thought. But then the shadow sat down and at last Severus saw his boy, his beautiful boy. He was smiling, his eyes were dancing and he was alive and well.

“I got lost,” Farid, said, “I kept trying to find the way home, but I got lost. I was waiting for you. Please Master, take me home.”

Severus knew he was grinning from ear to ear - ‘like a loon,’ as his mother would have said.

“I am so glad to see you my love, my precious boy. I gave up waiting and came to find you, but you don’t have your accent, darling, you don’t sound like yourself,” he chuckled as he pulled the boy into a fierce embrace.

Farid pulled back for a moment and looked up at Severus with his gorgeous green eyes displaying his puzzlement.

“Of course I don’t have an accent, Master!” he said. “This is how I sound in my own head!”

Severus chuckled and kissed him on the nose.

“You sound lovely,” he said as he tenderly kissed Farid’s neck next.

“Do I have an accent, then? Normally, I mean?” Farid demanded, pulling away from the kisses and looking at him somewhat quizzically.

Severus just chuckled as he nodded, rubbing his cheek against Farid’s.

“I am not your Master anymore, little one,” Severus whispered. “Did you know?”

Now it was Farid’s turn to nod. “Yes,” he said, a little sadly, “I thought that you had died, that you had left me. For the longest time I was very confused. I just wandered around, looking for you, not knowing where I was; I had seen you just lying there after the battle and I thought I had lost you. I didn’t know where I was, what was happening to me, but then I saw Lily and James.”

He let out a sad laugh, “My Mum and Dad. They wanted me to join them, go into the light and I nearly did, I almost went. But at the last minute I stopped - I couldn’t do it.”

Severus was peering at him intently. “Why not?” he asked gently. “Why did you come back?”

Farid lifted his head and met Severus gaze unflinchingly. “I couldn’t,” he said, “I couldn’t just leave my friends like that; I wanted to live.” Then he lowered his gaze once more, then so softly that Severus had to listen hard to hear his next words, “And you weren’t there; I thought that if you had died, you’d be waiting for me too. So I told them that I wasn’t ready to die yet, that there were lots of things that I wanted to do first, and that I thought that I was free, that somehow you had freed me and I wanted to try freedom, just for a while.”

Then Farid’s eyes filled with tears. “They said they were proud of me, that they loved me and that one day, when I was ready they would be waiting for me.”

Severus put his arm around his boy, and Farid leaned into his embrace. “They called me Harry,” Farid was continuing, “but I told them that the little boy that I was meant to be died when he was just a child. I said that I might be Harry Potter to the world but to my loved ones and friends I was known as Farid.”

“What did they say to that?” Severus asked, curiously.

“They said that I was their son, whatever my name was, and that they both loved me, beyond life itself.”

Severus could not say anything to that, so he just pulled the boy closer and held him for a while. They sat on the grassy hill, in the sunshine, he and Farid.

“I saw your memories, Farid,” he whispered, “I saw some of the things that they did to you; they were awful, dreadful! I never knew.”

But Farid had put a finger to Severus’ lips, “Shush, Master,” he said. “They are in the past; they cannot hurt me anymore. I have come to terms with them, accepted them. They will always be a part of me, but they do not have to rule my life, not any more. I have you now, you came for me like I knew you would”

Severus smiled, “Are you going to come home then?” he asked tentatively.

“Oh yes, Master,” Farid told him, “I want to go home. It is just that it’s peaceful, here in my head, and I’m not really sure of the way.”

“I’ll show you then, shall I?” Severus told him. “It’s not Master any more, by the way. My name is Severus.” And he took Farid’s hand in his and led his beloved back to life, back to a future pregnant with hope and love.

Farid’s room was in uproar! Everyone was shouting and rushing about rather uselessly. Severus opened his eyes to find that he was still holding Farid’s hand.

“Stop!” he bellowed. “That will do!” He was obeyed instantly, silence descended.

“Oh, Professor Snape,” Hermione was speaking, possibly for all off them, including Albus who had obviously taken Severus words to heart and was keeping quiet, “we thought we had lost you. Thank goodness you are alright! Farid started breathing again a moment or two ago but we couldn’t wake you and…..” She trailed off she was staring at the bed. “Oh!” she said softly.

Severus followed her gaze.

Farid was awake. He was very pale and obviously weak, but he was awake. His eyes were sparkling madly, with a twinkle to rival Albus’.

“Hello, Severoos,” he said with a smile on his lips. He squeezed Severus’ hand gently. “Zank you for bringing me home.”