Entry tags:

calling in a debt, fanfic, harry potter, hp/ss

HP: Calling in a Debt 11/16
Disclaimers: Neither the idea of Harry Potter nor the characters belong to me in any way. They are the sole property of JKR. I do not make any money of this story either.

Beta: allzugern, Amber, darkmoore, munchkinofdoom on livejournal, Christine Pierson

Author's Note: Love to all my betas.

allzugern for hooking me on a new fandom (or two, I'm kind of working on that). I'm definitely hooked on Queer as Folk now, and on Smallville, too. My brother foistering the first 3 series of Smallville on me really did help the cause. Allzugern is my comma and grammar goddess :) and has taught me, that naming characters is GOOD.

darkmoore for bearing my moods when something is not going as it should and the frustration is high. I think there is one paragraph, which would be unreadable if she hadn't helped me rephrase it before it went into beta. The only thing I can say is: "I love you, sis, thank you so much!".

munchkinofdoom", who has the most amazing ideas and the gift to connect the dots I leave loose. Every time I run something past her she points me into a direction I haven't previously thought of in that way. I'm glad I met you and offered you a cookie for the hard work you do. *Hands munchkinofdoom two double chocolate chip cookies and a drink.*

Also I want to thank Christine, for her ability to quarrel with me. Everyone who listens to us while working would think we hate each other and are not going to live through the process. I think someone once asked me why I spend time with Christine if I don't like her and I was like "What do you mean? I like her a lot." It's part of our mind-set's to disagree on almost everything, and that is what brings out the best in us when we work together.

Chapter 11 – Guardian of the Mind

“What the hell is a Mindguard?” Harry’s question cut through the strained silence in the headmaster’s office like a whiplash. “And what does that have to do with my dad?” His defensive posture bore no resemblance to the angry, out of control wizard from only an hour ago.

“A Mindguard is a guardian,” Albus explained gently, as if afraid that loud noises could startle Harry into a rage again. “In times of great need, when certain information was required to be safe beyond doubt, the wizards of old used Mindguards to ensure that no-one could access certain memories. It has also been used to protect wizards from Legilimency.” Albus explained, watching Harry carefully.

Harry snorted derisively, but seemed to be willing to listen to Albus for the moment. Yet, in the way he had his arms crossed, Albus could see the unwillingness to accept everything at face-value, “What about Occlumency? Would that not be a better counter?”

“Not if you are in a hurry. Using a Mindguard is intimate, but also instant. It is like self-inflicted, selective amnesia,” Albus tried to explain, “completely voluntary. A bond is created between the Wizard invoking the magic and the Mindguard. Unbreakable, untraceable and absolutely undetectable.” Again Albus paused to allow the implications to sink in. “It is also only temporary.”

“What do you mean, temporary?” Harry asked, his whole posture changing slightly as he started to regain his composure. “Does it just stop working after a while?”

“No. The Mindguard charm is probably best compared to the Secret Keeper charm. It does not just stop working, but has to be cancelled by both parties. The Mindguard is not simply a storage space for the memories. The wizard who functions as the Mindguard is not a living pensieve, instead he experiences them, while they are – in a way – erased from the Guarded. It is a very complicated process. The spell was written to be in use only for a few years, and I have never heard of a case in which the Mindguard was in use for longer than the recommended time-frame. Usually the Mindguard and the Guarded cancel the spell when it is no longer necessary.” Suddenly Albus felt very old and tired. He walked to his chair and allowed himself to sink onto the comfortable cushions with a sigh. “The bond between James and Severus was never canceled,” he finished. “James Potter died before that could be done, and by then Severus was too far into the Death-Eaters to turn back at any rate. It would have been his death sentence.”

“So you kept quiet,” Severus’ hissed, anger giving him back his composure. He got up haltingly and leaned over the headmaster’s desk towards Albus, “You should have told me!”

“Would you have believed me?” Albus hissed back, becoming angry himself. “What evidence is there besides my word? None! Your own memories betray you, Severus. There is no way you would have trusted me without tangible proof, not in this. Now, here it is, in your own memories and those of James.” After his outburst Albus felt spent, sinking back into his chair, silently enjoying the flabbergasted expressions of Harry and Severus. “James is dead, Severus. What would telling you change about that?”

Severus did not answer for a heartbeat, but his posture changed subtly to a less aggressive one, “Nothing.”

Albus nodded, his hands cramped into fists in his robes under the table. “Exactly. Nothing. Even less without you letting us help,” he said, keeping his voice even. Without another word or look Severus turned around and left the office.

“What is going on, Albus? What does all of that mean?” Harry’s sudden question almost made Albus jump. He had completely forgotten about the boy.

“It means that it is a wonder Severus is still alive and well. There have been reports of Guarded wizards who have experienced slight behavioural changes, sometimes accompanied by physiological illnesses like fainting spells. Some of them were unstable from the beginning, but most started to experience problems very late into the bond. Only a few never felt any of the effects at all. It led to the belief that not every wizard is able to use the Mindguard for protection. Severus has never displayed any of these symptoms, but that could change any day.”

“So what is the problem then?”

Albus breathed deeply, “It is unlikely that the loss of the bond had no effect on Severus at all. We simply do not know. There are no records of a Mindguard dying, and in every other case, they cancelled the bond immediately once the decline began. That is not an option for Severus. Once he starts to fall ill there is nothing we can do.”

Sitting up straighter, Harry looked at Albus in alarm, “Nothing?”

“Nothing we know of,” Albus corrected gently, mentally steeling himself for the topic he knew needed to come next. “Harry, about Voldemort,” he paused and swallowed at the sudden closed and guarded expression on Harry’s face, “James wanted to protect you at all costs; I had to swear an Unbreakable Vow to never tell anyone.” He could almost feel the red flame crawl across the back of his hand; the memories of that evening were burnt into his mind. “Not to anyone, including James, Lily, Severus, and even you, once you were old enough.” Absentmindedly, Albus rubbed his hand and looked into the fireplace, “No-one. Unless you asked me about it. Poppy had no idea who the other father was, but she swore an oath, too.”

Harry had not moved, and to Albus, it seemed as if he was barely breathing. “James loved you. After the first shock was over, he put everything he had into protecting your future. Do you know that male pregnancies take much longer than normal?" The look of shock on Harry's face was answer enough for Albus. "James did not start showing until early 1980 and it scared him to death. They started to hide in earnest then. He and Lily.” It was strange to talk about what had happened after more than two decades of silence, but in a way it was a relief to Albus Dumbledore. “Their activities in the Order practically stopped, they moved almost every month, and there was a heavy glamour on James every minute of the day. At the same time they put a different glamour on Lily, to indicate she was pregnant.”

Even though Albus could see the strain, both in the way Harry sat on the edge of his chair and also on his face, Albus felt obligated to share all he knew, no matter how painful. “I was one of the few who visited them regularly. Lily was looking forward to your birth just as much as James. For them, you were their child, and Voldemort’s doing nothing but a bad memory. I remember them picking your name, and once they finally moved to Godric’s Hollow they were painting the nursery...” It had been such a happy time for the two young parents-to-be. The excitement and the anticipation had been palpable in the air around them. "It was a happy time for them. They had stopped running and instead used the Secret Keeper charm, with Severus helping them." Shaking his head slightly, Albus returned from some of his more pleasant memories, “And then the prophecy happened and the rest is history.” His words sounded inadequate in Albus’ own ears, but there was no other way to put it.

“And the rest is history?” Harry asked, his voice far more controlled than Albus had expected. “I’m Voldemort’s son, Albus! The son of a man who killed my parents, who tried to kill me repeatedly, whom I hated so much it hurt...whom I killed! What kind of a history is that?”

***

The glass shattered against the wall in Severus’ quarters with a loud bang. Shards rained down to the floor, covering the few objects he had thrown there already. Severus screamed in unspeakable fury and threw another glass at the wall. “How could I have been so stupid?” With a jerky motion he reached for a third glass, but this time suppressed the urge to smash it. With shaking hands, he finally picked up the bottle of Scottish whiskey in front of him and filled the glass nearly to the brim. In one big gulp he emptied it and welcomed the feeling the fiery fluid created when it burnt down his throat.

Severus had risked his life for James Potter, had played a role without knowing from the very beginning. His life was based on nothing but lies. Lies, betrayals and deceit. How could Albus bear keeping that secret for so long, how could he do that and still sleep at night?

“He should have bloody well told me!”

In irrepressible rage he threw his now empty glass at the same spot. He grabbed the bottle and paced his living room, shaking with a multitude of emotions. “James Potter,” he hissed the name with a venom he had never before felt against his nemesis from school. At that moment he hated James Potter more than ever before. Severus took a swig straight from the bottle, intent on drowning the memories of the past hours in the best Scottish Single-Malt whiskey he had.

“How dare he do this to me? Damn you, James Potter, damn you straight to-“ Severus dropped the bottle when a sudden flash of blinding pain shot through his head. Stumbling backwards, he reached out for something to hold onto, to steady himself against the agony in his head, but found nothing. Despite the fact that he experienced more pain in his life than most people ever dreamed of, what was happening to him now was beyond anything he had ever felt before. When it became overwhelming his body shut down and he collapsed without ever having made a sound.

***

Harry leaned against his wooden entrance door, the feeling of the sturdy material comforting. Everything he believed had been tugged out from under him within 24 hours. With his world and life turned up-side down like never before, Harry felt at a loss as to what to do now.

His rooms reflected the state of Harry’s mind. Utterly chaotic. Broken glass and wood littered the floor, paper was glued to the wall by dried ink and the door to the living room had fallen off its hinges. Taking out his wand, Harry muttered a few reparo spells and brought some order to the site of destruction. He wished his life could be repaired as easily.

There was still enough left to replace and to clean up, but Harry just sat down on his father’s trunk and looked through the photos again until he came to one with them all together. Lily, James and Harry Potter. Happy. Content. A family.

There was nothing fake in the smile Lily gave the baby in her arms. Deep in thought, he turned around the photo, and found some writing on the back of it. Read the letter stuck to the cover. Love, Mum.

His eyes automatically went to the small box with the letters from the trunk. For the first time since Harry had found the items he wished he had never set eyes on them. Nothing good had come out of it, only pain and chaos.

The letter was exactly where the notice had said it would be. A blue envelope, stuck on the inside of the cover.

My dearest Harry,

We’ve prepared this trunk in case worse comes to worst. With the madness of the times we are living in, there is no guarantee for our survival. How I would love seeing you grow up, but both James and I feel constantly threatened.

After Voldemort’s attack on your dad, we have done everything in our powers to take him down. We’re just not strong enough. With all my knowledge and your dad’s power we are still unable to eliminate this very real threat to your life. I trust Albus told you about the Prophecy. My heart feels heavy at what that implies. The responsibility they are putting in your cradle makes me feel so helpless. More than anything, I wish I could take this burden from you.

Even before I held you for the first time I loved you. No matter what, you will always be my son. You are my life.

James and I decided to hide this trunk for you in the safest place we know of. If what we fear ever comes to pass, we want you to know the truth and to have something from us.

I hope you’ll never have to open it by yourself, that your dad and I will be there for you and explain everything. But there is this nagging feeling we both have that you will have to look through these items on your own.

You are my son. No matter who your biological father is, you are my son.

I love you so much and I’m so incredibly proud of you.

With all my love,
Mum

Harry was crying by the time he finished the letter, his tears creating more marks on the already spotted paper. A weight he had not even known existed lifted from his heart as he hugged the letter to himself, letting all the fear and insecurities go for the moment.

“I’m still me,” he whispered to himself. “I’m still me,” he repeated with conviction, putting the photo back onto the stack. He wiped the tears off his face and carefully folded the letter to put it back to its place when, with a deafening crack, all the windows in the room shattered at the same time.

The destruction was accompanied by an easily discernible wave of magic and Harry started running before the last splinters had hit the floor. On the corridors were dozens of upset children, some of them injured when the shrapnel-like glass had exploded near them. Reaching the point of origin Harry did not bother knocking against the door to Severus’ quarters, but opened it with a forceful "alohomora".

***

Albus was not happy about the way Poppy was frowning at her unconscious patient. Over the course of their time working together he had learned to read her very well. Maybe too well. Poppy Pomfrey was wearing that certain expression, which boded restrictive actions on her patient. “How is he, Poppy?”

“I’m not sure, Albus. Something is seriously wrong with Severus. I have found a strange hormonal imbalance and several abnormalities which worry me. He’s not merely been unconscious, but was actually in a coma for about an hour before he woke up briefly just to faint again. I’ve more or less stabilised him now. The potions I can give him are not going to solve the underlining problem, although I can’t think of any illness that could cause this.” She sighed and felt for Severus’ pulse, “I just don’t understand it.”

Paling, Albus took hold of the nearest bed-post. “Is his heart beating irregularly?”

“How do you know?” Poppy demanded to know immediately, her eyes fixing him in unspoken acknowledgement.

Albus closed his eyes. Why now? He was not showing any signs, why did it start now? Sometimes he wanted to retire. A younger man should be dealing with situations like this.

“Albus?” Harry sounded as worried as Albus felt. “Is it the Mindguard spell?”

Abruptly opening his eyes, Albus nodded tiredly. It was all too clear what would happen now. All accounts spoke of a rapid decline, comatose periods that would become longer and longer, and a slow psychological change. “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

“It needs to be cancelled. Immediately,” Poppy pounced on the new information. “There is no telling how quickly he will fall ill.”


“I’m fine.” Severus’ voice was weak and he was paler than usual. Even though he had visible trouble getting into a sitting position, he pushed himself slowly to his feet. “It was just the shock and too much drink.”

Poppy was in his way quicker than her stature should make possible. “Lie down,” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You are ill.”

Severus glared at Poppy and pushed her out of his way with a sweeping motion of his arm, “I’m fine. How dare you imply I’m anything but fine.” With that he strode to the door and left.

On the verge of following Severus, Harry was stopped by Albus’ hand on his arm, “Leave him be. He needs time to think.” He grimaced, “So do we.”