Ashes of Armageddon

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Hermione, Ron, Severus and Hugo ate lunch together, with Hugo ignoring both his parents, terrorizing Severus, demanding to see his Dark Mark. Severus did his best to scowl, and even made a sinister face, but the harder he tried, the more mirth followed from Hugo. Eventually, Severus decided to concede defeat, and rolled up his sleeve.



Hugo looked at the Dark Mark in absolute awe, licking his fingers and rubbing it, and then, scratching it with his fingernails, in diligent attempt to erase it. Smirking, Severus glanced at Hermione Granger, who looked absolutely mortified.. For his part, Severus was not sure what amused him more, the boy\'s attempts at removing his Dark Mark, or Hermione\'s obvious dread at his behavior.



In the early evening, the four of them prepared dinner together. Even Hugo was helping, standing on a chair by the sink, washing vegetables, and splattering water all over himself, and whoever happened to be nearby, delivering the splashes with stunning precision. In those several hours, a single phrase crossed his mind: It was worth it. Merely catching a glimpse of ordinary human life, even if it was not his own, but someone else\'s, made it all worthwhile: his life as a spy, with lost friendships, the twisting and fracturing of his own soul, killing his mentor and benefactor, and even his current predicament, meant almost nothing in the light of goodness that was right in front of him, at this very moment.



Just as Hugo and Ron started setting the table for dinner, Harry Floo\'d in from his workplace at the Ministry. He hugged Hermione, shook hands with Ron, and, when Hugo rushed to him, lifted him in his arms.



Hugo and Harry began an arm-wrestling match on the floor of the living room, with Harry letting himself be beaten every single time, to Hugo\'s absolute delight.



At one point, Hermione and Ron retreated upstairs for a bit, leaving Harry to play with Hugo, and Severus, to fend for himself in the kitchen. The kitchen was half-open to the living room, and Severus could see everything that was going on there. As soon as his parents were gone, Hugo started badgering Harry, while Severus listened in silence, and watched the interaction out of the corner of his eye.



“Uncle Harry!” Hugo demanded “When is baby Al coming back? And Kreacher?”



Harry hugged Hugo tightly. “I don\'t know,” he said gently, planting a kiss on the top of the boy\'s blond head. “It might be a while.”



“Where did they go?” Hugo demanded.



“They did not say where,” Harry answered, crouching on the floor next to Hugo. “But, I do know that they went on a long private vacation somewhere. Aunt Ginny, Baby Al, and Kreacher, the three of them together.”



“Why did they go without you?” Hugo demanded. “Why won\'t mom and dad tell me?”



Harry looked into Hugo\'s eyes intently. “Well, Hugo,” he said quietly, “Sometimes, adults do very scary things. Sometimes they hurt each other, or frighten each other. And, when you frighten or hurt your friends really, really badly, your friends might decide to go on a very long vacation without you.”



Hugo stared back at him, absorbing the information. “Did you hurt Aunt Ginny?” Hugo asked pitifully.



“I don\'t think so,” Harry told him. “But I am certain I frightened her terribly.”



Hugo sniffled and tugged Harry\'s sleeve. “Like on Halloween?”



“Yes,” Harry said under his breath, and his body appeared to be frozen as he spoke. “Kind of like that.”



Hugo\'s voice grew more and more plaintive. “Can\'t you just say you are sorry?”



“No,” Harry said with surprising firmness. “You should only say you are sorry if you are going to change your behavior. If you are not, you shouldn\'t even bother with the words.”



Hugo considered the information briefly, and then changed the subject. “Professor Severus Snape lives with you now?”



“He lives with me now,” Harry confirmed, a little reluctantly.



“Did you notice he has a mark on his head?” Hugo whispered conspiratorially. “Just like you.”



“Yes,” Harry whispered in kind, with absolute seriousness. “I noticed.”



“What does it mean?” Hugo asked, still whispering loudly.



“Well,” Harry mused. “That mark of his simply means that, if I frighten Severus, he won\'t go away on vacation. He\'ll always be with me.”



If those words had been meant to be heard by Severus and send a chill down his spine, they surely achieved their effect, but he betrayed no sign of it. It was second nature to him to suppress his instinctive emotional reactions, absorb information, and file it away for further review. He did the same this time, holding his body absolutely relaxed, and his breathing measured and steady, even as he listened to the conversation next door, strangely horrifying in its simple cruelty.



Hermione and Ron came back from upstairs, and everyone sat down to dinner. They were quiet at first, and the atmosphere was just a little more charged than summer sky before a spectacular thunderstorm. Fortunately, Hugo came to the rescue, throwing a couple of peas at Harry\'s face, and once again, Severus admired the boy\'s aim, if only privately. Harry laughed and retaliated, a quick food fight erupted between the two of them, lifting everyone\'s spirits.



Shortly after dinner, Hugo went up to his room to play. Severus began tidying up the kitchen, almost automatically, but continuing to watch everything that was occurring in the living room, and listen.



Harry wandered out into the living room area, and stood before the fireplace, his eyes fixed on a single Muggle acoustic guitar, placed on a sturdy guitar-stand. Harry lifted it off, and sat in one of the arm-chairs, strumming the instrument absently. Ron and Hermione sat on the couch across from him.



“Remember we were going to form our own band, and be famous like the Weird Sisters?” Ron asked.



“Yeah,” Harry said absently, hugging the guitar.



“Whatever happened to all that?”



“Well, things don\'t always work out like you plan,” Harry said, looking down.



“I guess,” Ron said. “So... written any new songs lately?”



Harry muttered something spiteful and unfriendly.



“Play it,” Ron said.



“Nah. It\'s dumb.”



“No doubt. Play it anyways.”



Harry shook his head, as if to deny the request, but his fingers were already running across the strings again, making a melody emerge. The tune was very simple and unassuming, and it seemed like it could have been a peaceful and happy song. But then, to Severus\' surprise, Harry started humming to the melody, and finally, sang, his voice quietly ringing with a remarkable sadness:



I thought, once the war was over,

That nothing would be amiss,

That nothing could ever shatter

The light, and life, and peace.



And yet, a sorrow lingers,

And turning into dust,

Victory slips through my fingers,

And daylight does not last.



The evening sky is reddened,

Then darkness scatters across,

Like ashes of Armageddon,

It covers the dreamless earth.



I know something is missing,

some small and intangible grace,

A talk that never has happened,

A meeting that never took place.



When morning comes, on my own,

I search for something long lost,

And then, once again, I alone

Go wait for you at King\'s Cross.



You won\'t be there - I know,

And still, I go and wait,

Perhaps, a year too early,

Perhaps, a day too late.



The song ended abruptly, and silence followed. Finally, Hermione spoke out, to ask, with a tremor in her voice:



“Harry.... what is this song about? Can you tell me?”



“I don\'t know, \'Mione,” Harry murmured, still strumming the guitar, playing random notes. “I only know that something that should have happened, didn\'t... Don\'t know what. Don\'t know when. It should have happened at King\'s Cross, though. I am almost sure of it.”



“Why King\'s Cross, do you think?” Hermione prodded gently.



“Don\'t know,” Harry whispered. “Just that... every year, around this time, I feel like I should go there. Feel like I should have met someone there, and didn\'t.”



“Who do you figure?” Ron asked.



“I don\'t know!” Harry said again, despair beginning to mount in his voice. “Didn\'t you hear me? I don\'t know!”



“So... did you ever you go?” Hermione asked. “To King\'s Cross, that is?”



“Yeah,” Harry muttered. “I did. I do. Every year, around this time. Usually the entire first week of May, I don\'t do much of anything else... just ... you know... got to King\'s Cross, sit there, and wait. Just wait for someone to show up, and I don\'t even know who...or why....” Harry\'s voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath. “Pretty crazy, huh?”



“Completely mental,” Ron confirmed quietly. “So I\'m guessing it must be rather important.”



Harry issued a strained chuckle, and placed the guitar back on its stand. “Maybe this year it\'ll be different,” he muttered. “Maybe this year, someone will show up.....explain my entire life to me... fix me up, and we will all go back to normal.”



Severus glanced in the direction of the room, and saw that Hermione and Harry embraced. He heard her sniffle quietly. “Oh Harry... what are we going to do with you?”



He laughed unhappily. “Hermione... honestly. What CAN you do with me?”



Suddenly wordless, Hermione just hugged him tightly. Then Ron spoke up, quietly and seriously:



“Harry... mate.. you know that we love you, right?”



“Yeah,” Harry agreed instantly. “I honestly have no idea why, and most days, I don\'t even know what love is anymore. But I know that you do.”



Another long pause followed, and Hermione spoke again:



“Well, Harry... your room is ready... get some rest. I\'ll put Sna... Severus on the couch.”



“Nah,” Harry whispered. “I\'ll take the couch. He can have the bedroom.”



“Are you sure?” Ron asked. “You have to work tomorrow...”



“It\'s fine,” Harry said. “Honestly, Ron. I .... like the couch. It\'s .. like the old days, you know. At the Burrow...”



Hermione and Ron said good night to Harry, then stopped by the kitchen to wish good night to Severus as well. They headed upstairs afterwards, and Severus emerged from the kitchen to walk to the guest bedroom.



Harry nodded to him with the faintest, mirthless smile on his lips. On an impulse, Severus stepped towards him, and took a close, careful look at Harry\'s face. Even in the dusk of the room, it was evident that his features were distorted with agony. He was biting his lip furiously, as if attempting to subdue some words that were almost ready to escape.



Severus surveyed him calmly. “I can see, Mr. Potter, from that pained expression of yours, that you are dying to say those three magic words of remorse, and yet, believe you mustn\'t, lest you give me some measure of false hope for the future.”



“Something like that,” Harry said.



Severus shrugged. “Well, for what it\'s worth, if it makes you feel better for the night, you have my blessing to say them; and I will promise not read too much into them.”



Harry winced at his words noticeably. “Thank you for the offer,” he said softly, but added nothing else.



Severus nodded curtly.



Harry bowed his head, as he continued to smile bitterly. For a few fleeting moments, he looked like a scared teenager again, defiant and vulnerable at once; and then, unexpectedly, a single tear left Harry\'s eye, and ran down his cheek. Severus followed the course of it with his gaze, sternly reminding himself that it meant nothing; but of course, for that moment alone, it meant everything.



And then, the urge to respond became irresistible. Lifting his bruised, punished hand, Severus wiped that solitary tear from Harry\'s face. Harry froze at his touch, but did not flinch away.



For a few seconds they stood in absolute silence, saying nothing, and not even moving.



Eventually, Harry shook his head furiously, as if snapping out of a daze, and walked away. Severus turned around and went to sleep in the guest bedroom. The air in the room carried aroma of fresh cotton and lilies, and drifting off, Severus realized he could not remember a smell more pleasant, or more peaceful.



...To Be Continued...