22

22: A Question of Control (August 5, 2003 to August 8, 2003)

"Concentrate Bast!" Poppy snapped. "You're empathy abilities are far behind your spell-casting abilities! We only have 7 months left to get your ready for the MEDs, and I assure you it's not going to be easy. Only upper levels pass on their first try. It usually takes many attempts, and I expect you to excel!"

Harry nodded and focused his green eyes on Poppy, trying to break through the shield she'd placed around herself so that he could actually feel her. It was good practice since not all patients were receptive to the reach out mediwizards had to do to locate what was wrong with them. Of course, normal patients weren't this resistant but Poppy wasn't a level 8 mediwitch for nothing.

But it was hard to concentrate when he had so much on his mind. It was especially difficult to focus when he thought about what was going to happen after this empathy lesson. Acting as their liaison, Draco had arranged a private meeting for Sebastian and Sirius in their room. It'd taken a few days, but it was hardly something to jump into. Draco was right that it didn't look right for a judge not affiliated with the champion through school to be seen with them. The Tournament may not be about fair play, but the underhanded methods were kept hidden.

Who wanted to be seen as unfair? Voldemort had an ego, Harry discovered without any astonishment. A vast ego. He liked to think of himself as just but ruthless. Fair to a point, Harry allowed, fair to certain people. Ruthless was an apt description, that and power hungry. But he was not mad, no he was brilliant and cunning. From all that he had learned of this Voldemort, it was no wonder he was ruling over Europe. The man was a sodding genius.

"Forget it," Poppy muttered. "Just go," she sighed heavily out loud. "It's not like we can get any work done while you're mind's wandering." She smiled at him reassuringly. "It's okay, Bast. I know you're caught up in the whirlwind of the Tournament. I'll let it go this time, but next time we really do need to make some progress."

Harry grinned back at her. "Thanks, Poppy. I'll try harder next time, I promise." He waved and gathered up his stuff, running out of her private room. "See you later!"

Poppy shook her head, boys will be boys.

He had run. But now he had slowed down to walking, if you could call the slow shuffling of his feet walking. He'd been excited at first, but what if Sirius was totally different? What if he didn't accept him? It was a given that he was going to have to tell Sirius about himself. What choice did he have? That he somehow managed to conjure out of the blue the animagus form of Sirius' deceased best friend? That wasn't how the patronus charm worked.

One had to have a deep connection to their protector. It was impossible to conjure a patronus without significance. In his case, it was his father that was his protector. For Gabrielle it had been her family's heritage, though the veela conjured had strongly resembled her sister. For Sahar, it was her mother's cousin. Strange, but it apparent that they shared a close relationship. No, he would have to explain an abbreviated version of his story. As out of there as it sounded, Sirius had to trust him if he trusted Dumbledore as one of the Order's operatives.

He refused, he absolutely refused to think that Sirius had betrayed Dumbledore. Sirius was not a traitor to the light, he was a spy for the Order. Why else would be masquerade as one of the Inner Circle Death Eaters? The Sirius Black he knew would never ever be a servant of Voldemort, not without a hidden agenda. This was the perfect cover up. The question was how Sirius had gotten Voldemort to believe in his loyalty. So many questions needed to be answered.

Raising his hand, he knocked on the door firmly. Whatever answers waited, he was perfectly capable of dealing with them. How many people had been thrown into an alternate dimension and learn to adjust to it? Not many, he wagered, and his adaptive abilities had proved handy on more than one occasion. He steeled himself for the volatile confrontation. This was infinitely harder than facing Dementors.

The door flew open and it was not who he wanted to see. "Draco?" he called out. "I thought-"

He was pulled violently into the room, and the door was slammed behind him. "You do know," Draco began with a hiss, "that Sirius can't be seen with you? As the Dark Lord's representative, he can't be seen conversing with one of the Tournament champions. Favoritism is highly frowned upon, I would think you would know that."

"He's been seen with Sahar though," Harry protested.

"They're related," Draco remarked.

Harry shrugged. "More reason to think he's favoring her," Harry pointed out logically. "Where is Sirius Black anyway?" He had scanned the entire room and hadn't caught a glimpse of his godfather.

"You still haven't told me why you wanted to talk to Sirius…"

"I can't tell you."

"You've never been able to keep anything from me!" Draco exclaimed, his eyes flashing passionately. He didn't like it when things were kept from him. He thought he'd made that clear.

Harry fought the urge to smile. Oh, there was a lot he was keeping from Draco that Draco didn't have the slightest idea about. He may not be good at hiding his emotions, but he knew damn well how to keep something a secret when he needed to. Trying to keep the smile off his face caused him to grimace instead. It was something to do with his facial muscles. It was better than smiling and giving himself away.

"Go Draco," Sirius whispered dangerously from where he emerged from the shadows as if he popped out of no where. "Your friend and I have many things that we need to discuss."

A sharp, calculating glance from Draco was sent to Sebastian and Sirius, but under the intense gaze of his elder relative, he backed off wisely. "Don't take too long," Draco warned. "You know people care about your whereabouts." Draco was looking at Sebastian, but his words seemed aimed particularly at Sirius. It wasn't a surprise, the locations of the judges were kept closely under wraps, particularly the judges that were affiliated to a certain school.

"Go Draco," Sirius repeated, and Draco went.

A dreadful silence ensued where Sirius' black as midnight eyes bore down into Harry's forest green eyes. Everything about Sirius was different except his eyes. The eyes were the same. There was a shadow of darkness in Sirius, not gained from Azkaban but probably from serving Voldemort. It didn't matter the cause of the gloom, the dimness made the dark orbs familiar to Harry.

Neither knew what to say; neither knew how to begin. One would open his mouth only to close it scarcely a second later. Their tongues were tied. For Sirius, his incapability to speak was because he should not know the boy, but he got the nagging suspicion that he did. Who else could it be? As for Harry, he had no idea how much to say. He knew Sirius was part of the Order. Dumbledore had told him so. But what if the impossible had happen and Sirius had betrayed the Headmaster? What then?

"Who are you?" Sirius rasped. "Who are you?"

Harry Potter. No, he couldn't say that. He couldn't, even if it was Sirius- even if Dumbledore trusted him. There was no way of knowing, and if Sirius hadn't betrayed the Order consciously- he could be under the Imperius curse. But if anyone could throw off that particular Unforgivable, Harry would think that Sirius would be able to. After all, there had to be a strong will in his godfather to keep from losing his mind amongst the Dementors in Azkaban. Weak willed wizards even if innocent would not have kept their minds intact, only one with strength could.

"Sebastian Ethan Biggerstaff," Harry responded. "That's who I am."

"You're not telling me the truth," Sirius remarked carefully and with a mark of deliberation. There was no uncertainty in his voice, there was only the prevailing belief that what words spoken were not true. "Tell me the truth."

"Then who do I look like?" Harry blurted out before his commonsense could stop his mouth.

Sirius' head snapped back to his eyes from where they had wandered around the room. They shifted back and roamed over his face carefully, studiously. The unruly hair was exactly like James Potter, his best friend. The startling emerald eyes were a carbon copy of Lily Evans. But it couldn't be, their son was dead- yet who else could it be? Was it possible that Dumbledore had lied to him? Not told him the truth? But there had been a body, a dead baby's body at the scene. Was it all false then?

It was possible. He knew how the Headmaster could be as manipulative as Voldemort, but it was done for the good of the people. That much he had to believe in when belief was such a scarce notion. A belief in better. Still, if this young man was what he seemed- it all made sense then, how young Biggerstaff had conjured a patronus that was the animagus form of his lost best friend. The pieces fit together to complete the compounding questions surrounding the boy.

In the days since the first task, Sirius had unearthed any information he could on the young man. It wasn't much. He had been from the Americas, but any further digging turned up empty. It was like Sebastian had popped into existence last year when he'd begun attending Hogwarts. Most strange, but Dumbledore had said that they were making progress against Voldemort and that an unexpected boon had arrived. Could this boy be the boon Dumbledore had spoken of?

"What do you swear on?" Harry asked, asked because he needed to know and that would at least convince Sirius that he was not a bad person if Sirius hadn't betrayed Dumbledore. He didn't think his godfather would. His godfather wasn't a double-agent. No, no- Sirius wasn't that at all despite his Black family legacy.

Sirius was taken back. Dumbledore had already initiated the boy into the Order? So young, then again there must be power in the boy. Only the greatest wizards were chosen from the Goblet of Fire. Great wizards didn't mean dark wizards, Cedric Diggory being a prime example. After his selection as the Hogwarts Champion and his subsequent graduation, he'd been accepted into the American Ministry of Magic. As word had it, the former Hufflepuff was going to be a rising power in the light wizard ranks.

It only made sense that if this was who his instincts thought he was, that Sebastian would be a great wizard. "I swear on my godson's grave," Sirius whispered softly. "Are you who I think you are?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't. He wanted to tell Sirius, yes. But he knew it wouldn't be wise. Dumbledore had never forbid him to talk about his past circumstances, yet it was understood it was for the best that he did not. However, he had not told Sirius anything. And if there was one person he wanted to trust, he wanted to trust the only family he had left in any dimension. "Yes."

Stunned silence. "It's not possible," Sirius muttered. "You're supposed to be dead. I saw your body! I saw it! I held your dead body in my hands! The life was gone from you, and if possible it hurt even more than James' death. You never had a chance to live…" He sobbed out loud and Harry couldn't hold it back. This was his godfather. He rushed to Sirius and hugged him fiercely. "Are you Harry? Are you?"

God yes. It'd been so long since someone had called him Harry he had almost forget he was Harry. "Yes. I'm Harry."

"You look worn out," Severus commented blatantly, never one to hold his tongue from speaking the truth no matter how harsh it may be. "Are you sure you're strong enough to attempt the Unforgivable?"

Harry nodded firmly. He needed something to get his mind off of Sirius, and this was good practice for him. If dark wizards were going to perform the dark curses on him, he damn well wanted to be able to perform it on them. As much as Sirius and he wanted to spend more time with each other, it wasn't possibility without drawing suspicion that they didn't need.

There had been little that Harry felt he could tell Sirius. He had allowed Sirius to believe that he had survived somehow and Dumbledore had sequestered him away to the Americas to keep him safe. That was what he allowed Sirius to think until he could consult the Headmaster. What choice did he have? Would Sirius have believed him unless he was in the presence of a phoenix? While phoenixes couldn't make a person tell truth, they did have an astonishing ability to make lies known to their owners. No wonder Dumbledore had believed him.

"What's that in your hand?" Severus questioned, his eyes sharp eyes seeing the scrap of parchment that Sebastian held.

It was a hint from Sirius about the upcoming task. He hadn't bothered to open it. He knew the Tournament wasn't fair, but he was afraid to know how much Sirius had told him of the second task. He didn't want it grossly unfair. "It's nothing, Severus." He was about to crumble the sheet when Severus snatched it from him.

"Nothing would not be nothing, and this is something," Severus retorted. His dark eyes scanned the parchment quickly, his eyes widening when he read the words. The hint was a good hint for the upcoming task, but it was an overly detailed one. Beware of what your eyes may see. Only the most cunning would pick up on the hint, and he was unsure if Sebastian would pick it up since he'd quit the class that would have taught this particular field of knowledge. "Have you read it?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I haven't."

"It's a good hint," Severus responded blandly, handing back the scrap of paper to Sebastian. "I would think over the words carefully." He gestured for Sebastian to come closer to him. "You know in our last lesson that you were casting the Imperius curse on animals, well this time I expect you to perform it on a person. It's not as easy because the willpower of animals tend to be less fierce than ours. However, I believe your falcon has a notoriously stubborn mind.

"As much fun as it was to see you make her play dead, you have progressed to a level where you should be able to perform it on a person. Considering you should be sufficiently recovered from the first task, your prior majority should come in handy now," Severus continued informatively. "I will warn you not to hesitate nor show the least bit of wavering. I am a very difficult person to put under the Imperius. I do not expect you to succeed as easily with me as you did with your falcon."

His eyes blinked furiously; he was going to put Severus under the Imperius curse. What a nightmare in temptation. It was a good opportunity though, to let him put his raging fantasies into actuality and hope that it then drowned them into nonexistence. He found that rarely did reality live up to the reveries, very rarely. From the explicit nature of his dreams, he doubted Severus would live up to them. They were too fantastic.

"Are you ready?" Severus inquired gently, noticing the lines that marred Sebastian's beautiful face. Sebastian nodded. "Remember, you need to focus and will me to listen to you. It's not going to be easy."

"I know," Harry murmured back. "I'm ready."

"Go ahead then."

He had permission. "Imperio!" he exclaimed, aiming his wand at Severus and using every fiber of resolve in him to place the stubborn Potions Master under the Unforgivable. He seemed to have placed Severus under a mild thrall, but it was still quite possible for Severus to break out of the tenuous hold. No hesitation. Did he dare? "Kiss me," he commanded. "Kiss me, Severus."

It was something he wanted to do, but he knew that he couldn't. What in the world had possessed the young man? His deepest desire, his most painful yearning. It would be so easy to give up, a good test on his self control. He knew he couldn't. He would resist. His mind said no, his heart said yes. Which would win? His mind, of course, his determination was steel and unbending. It would not give in.

It wasn't working. Severus still standing there, tall and as proud as ever but he hadn't broken out of the mild hold Harry had on him. It was close though. Severus struggling, conflicted. It had to be more than just the Unforgivable causing the internal turmoil, was it possible that Severus wanted him too? Draco had said so, but it was so hard to take Draco seriously when Draco was biased for his happiness. He never dreamt Severus would feel the same emotions for him. It was not possible. Severus hated him, well, the Severus he knew had hated him. This Severus liked him, but he thought only as a favored pupil.

"Kiss me," he stated firmly. "Kiss me now."

It was working. Severus was moving toward him. His heart raced; his breathing increased. His desires were going to be doused, did he want the dream to end? He closed his eyes. He had to know; he had to know if reality could compare to fantasy. Undoubtedly it would not. He was prepared for disappointment. He had allowed his dreams to fly too high. He was foolish, too much of him was still undeniably Gryffindor.

This wasn't happening. Sebastian wasn't supposed to be strong enough, no, he wasn't supposed to be this weak. He gave in. His will crashed. He wanted this so. He bent his head down and took what he wanted, took what his mind had unconsciously been dreaming about for at least a year. His lips touched those fragile petals and tasted a sweetness that was pure, something untainted. All the walls of resistance fell. He devoured Sebastian whole.

He was drowning. He was liquid. He was wrong. This was better than fantasy.