Chapter 20

Albus and Severus walked briskly to Severus's personal potions lab. He supposed Hermione had made her way to the library.

The headmaster pulled the pantry door open and began grabbing various vials.

"Albus, what is happening?"

"Harry is his own horcrux."

"What? How? That is very rare magic. Even the Dark Lord was never able to successfully make a horcrux."

"Yes, but Harry is far more powerful and with more innate abilities than he ever had." Albus set the vials out on the counter and pushed up the sleeves of his vibrant purple robe. "And I think Harry had help. It was you, Severus."

"I beg your pardon?"

Hermione pushed herself into the room. Her hair was twisted into a knot atop her head, a muggle pen stabbed through it to hold it in place. Next to the collected vials, she placed a heavy tome and flipped to the page she needed. It was on horcruxes.

"Harry is his own horcrux," she said breathlessly.

"Yes, I've gathered. But how?" Severus asked with irritation.

"When you lost consciousness, I think your magic sort of... panicked. It didn't know how to protect Harry, so you pushed his soul deep down within. That's why only you can access Harry."

"But we can reverse it within the time frame," Albus added, his eyes still gliding over the page.

In his own potions lab, where he was normally the expert, Severus felt completely beside himself.

Hermione lifted each vial to read the label. "You've got it all here, headmaster. Only missing the-"

"Animagus blood," the two said in unison. "Sirius," they both said, also in unison.

They needn't continue. Severus was already striding down the corridor.

Severus rushed into the infirmary. As Severus came closer, Harry's fingers and eyelids began to twitch.

"I suppose there is good reason he always seems to sense when you're near," Sirius said, sounding almost sad and defeated.

"Yes," Severus agreed. "I need you to come with me."

Sirius and Remus both looked up, eyes wide with confusion.

"I haven't the time to explain. We need the blood of an animagus for the horcrux-reversal potion."

"Horcrux? What in the bloody hell is that?"

Severus sighed. "I can tell you on the way."

Severus stroked the back of Harry's hand, which seemed to calm the twitching. "Goodbye," Severus told him quietly.

As the two walked, Severus explained horcruxes to Sirius, and explained how Harry was seemingly his own.

"So, your love for him, in a desperate move to protect him, shoved his soul so deep down inside his brain that now he can't figure out how to wake up."

"Something like that."

"I'm... impressed," Sirius stated simply, without sarcasm.

Severus arched an eyebrow at the man. "It wasn't intentional. I didn't realize it was possible. But I suppose it makes sense. If his physical form were to perish, he'd still have his soul and we would have been able to figure it out from there."

"Put Harry's soul in a different body, you mean."

Severus winced. "Yes," he admitted. It was not a lovely thought.

"The fact that you somehow did this, while falling unconscious, completely unintentionally... that... says quite a bit."

They stepped off the last staircase and rounded the corner. A group of young Slytherin girls ran past them and up the stairs.

Sirius continued. "If Harry chooses to be with you, no influence from the prophecy or otherwise, I will be able to act civilly towards you and accept Harry's choice. I won't be buying you Christmas gifts or having you 'round for tea, but I'll accept you."

"I- thank you."

"Ah, you're here," Albus said as the two stepped into the work space. "We were lucky," Albus said. "We had this revelation just in time for the correct moon phase."

Severus read over the instructions and saw that Albus was correct. It was just in the nick of time. If they hadn't begun brewing today, they'd have had to wait another month.

Perspiration gathered over Hermione's top lip as she stirred forcefully. Albus hovered over her and added the ginger root, causing the potion to gurgle and glow a nauseating shade of orange.

"Will Harry drink this?" Sirius asked, his lips gnarled with disgust.

"No," Hermione told him, her eyes still fixated on the potion. "Professor Snape will have to smooth it over his skin. Since he is the creator of the horcrux, only he can perform the reversal. This potion takes twenty-four hours to brew, and the reversal time-frame ends tomorrow night at sundown, so he will have to work quickly."

Sirius shifted his weight to his other foot, seeming uncomfortable. "Erm, how much blood do you need from me?"

Without looking up, Hermione handed Severus a small glass vial. "Fill this."

Severus motioned for him to sit down. He propped his arm up. Severus took Sirius's arm in his hand and turned it to expose the light underside of his wrist. He made a small incision. Sirius winced and looked away as Severus placed the mouth of the vial against the fresh blood, urging it to pour into the glass.

Severus had several quips on the edge of his tongue with which he could lash Sirius, something along the lines of the man surviving Azkaban, but couldn't handle a little blood. Severus kept the words to himself. Sirius had put aside their childish rivalry, Severus wasn't above following suit.

Once the vial had been filled, he placed a cork stopper into it and placed it by the rest of the ingredients.

Once the crowds below Harry's window dissipated for the evening, Severus left Hermione and Albus to their work. He felt useless. Potions were his field, and yet he was extraneous in his own lab.

Severus crept into the darkened infirmary, only to find that his own godson sat by Harry, whispering sweet nothings to him.

"You'll be alright, Harry." Draco placed a tender hand over Harry's heart. Severus stood still in the shadows, his own heart pounding, his breath caught in his throat. "I love you," Draco continued. "You'll be awake in time for the graduation ceremony and then we will be free to do as we wish with our lives. Perhaps we could travel the world a bit. Then come back, buy a house, settle down. I'll make you feel so loved. You saved me. I owe you the world, and I'll give it to you."

Severus wished he could give Harry "the world" but he knew he couldn't. He had nothing to offer Harry but what? A small home in the dungeons of a school? A partner that smelled of potions? A crooked, yellow smile every evening and an ornery old bastard every morning? Severus couldn't offer Harry a trip around the world, couldn't offer him financial stability, couldn't even offer him a pleasant disposition.

He'd let Draco spend the evening with Harry in peace. He slipped from the infirmary quietly.

Severus wasn't ready to retire for the evening. He found himself tracing one of the paths he and Harry would commonly walk so many months ago. Every nook and alcove spurred a memory in Severus, some piece of conversation they'd had. It wasn't exactly a pleasant time that he reminisced in currently. It was a time that Harry was convinced he would die. The young man was coming to terms with the fact that he'd not even make it through his teen years. But despite the bitter sadness, they'd discovered one another on these walks. A sharp pain shot through Severus's abdomen and up through his chest. Being away from Harry hurt him. Oh, it hurt.

Just moments before sundown, Hermione wiped away the perspiration appearing on her brow.

"It's ready, Professor. Take it."

Severus ladled the necessary amount of potion into the jar and sealed it carefully.

He and Hermione rushed to the infirmary. Severus held the jar in his hand tightly, refusing to let anything happen to it. This potion was precious. Severus set to work spreading the potion over Harry's chest and then to the rest of his body.

The potion slicked over Harry's sweaty skin the way aloe did over a sunburn. A bit oily at first, but dissipated quickly. It smelled foul, like bottled death.

When the last drop of potion was applied, Severus stepped back with the rest of Harry's loved ones. They collectively held their breaths. The sun sank down lower beneath the horizon, giving way to more darkness outside the window where crowds lit the sky with wands and candles.

Severus pressed his forehead gingerly to Harry's temple, ignoring what the others might think.

"Harry," he whispered against the young man's ear. "We're ready for you."

The familiar vision of dream-Harry did not appear. Instead, real-Harry groaned and lifted his hand to wrap around Severus's upper arm.

"Hi," Harry said in a raspy voice and smiled weakly. "You found me."

Severus didn't move, fearing the others would see the tears now welling across his lower lids. "Always. I'll always find you."

"Thank you." Harry's grip tightened then released.

Severus finally stepped back so that the others could greet Harry. It'd been over a week now.

The others grabbed at Harry, hugging him, kissing his cheeks, attacking him with love and greetings. Some of them cried freely. Severus, however, stepped from the room.

The prophecy was fulfilled. The wizarding world had their saviour returned to them.

Severus was keenly aware of a feeling like thorns wrapped around his heart and lungs.

Whoever had said it was better to love and lost than never to have loved at all- they were a fool. Likely a muggle with a short lifespan.

Losing Harry must be the worst pain known to man. Severus would have greatly preferred to have never loved him at all.

He made himself comfortable on his settee. He thought of how he'd soon be watching Harry leave Hogwarts forever. He sipped his scotch.

The gossip columns would show banal photos of Draco and Harry going about their lives together. He swallowed the scotch.

He'd be invited round Malfoy Manor for holidays. Harry would be there with Draco. He emptied his glass.

Severus would never feel fulfilled by any potential partner or lover the way he'd felt with Harry. He would always feel empty without him. He poured himself another glass.

Soon The Daily Prophet was delivered with the sunlight. Harry, awake in the infirmary, graced the cover of the paper. "Boy Who Lived Twice!" Severus finished the second glass in one swallow. His mouth was numb, he couldn't feel the alcohol burning his tongue any longer.

He read over Harry's would-be-last-letter to him a few times. He poured himself a third glass.

Finally, he wrapped up the other letters with the will and tapped them with his wand, sending them to Harry's trunk in Gryffindor tower. The letters were the last piece of Harry he had left. He would have poured himself another, but he was drunk.

Severus had served his purpose. Now he could only hope that Draco would keep his promise, and make Harry happy.