Harry Potter and the Price, part 2 (Patreon)

Severus had hoped that he would have some privacy for this ritual, but he had not seen so many Death Eaters in one place since the Dark Lord had fallen. Lucius walked the crowd, revelling in his role as the Dark Lord’s second. The others reached out to touch his arm or shoulder, each touch reverent as though reassuring themselves that they had escaped Azkaban as had Lucius. Severus credited incompetence in the Wizengot rather than Lucius’s political maneuvering for that.

“Severus, you have all our support,” Lucius said when he circled back around to Severus’s side.

“I am blessed,” Severus said dryly.

Lucius shot him an odd look before he continued. “If this returns our Lord to his rightful place, you will be the most honored wizard in England.”

Severus doubted that. He was a tool, one that the Dark Lord, Albus and Lucius were all quite happy to use, but once his usefulness was over, they would dismiss him as easily as a broken dagger. “I feel as if I don’t have a choice. The situation only grows more dangerous.” Let Lucius believe that the raid on Morgoth Selwyn’s library had inspired his despair. Severus did feel guilty about not warning Selwyn of the coming raid; however, he could not save every library. He had judged Morgoth’s library as less critical than the great collection in the Malfoy manor. The Dark was more than the Dark Lord, but Albus targeted ancient magics than had nothing to do with the madness of the last few generations.

He tried to focus his thoughts on these larger issues. The Dark Lord could not return and condemn all Dark families to his madness, and Albus could not continue to target anyone with beliefs that did not align with his. And Severus was powerless to effect either. So he kept those problems at the front of his mind as he studied the ritual supplies laid out across the floor of the Greengrass mansion.

“The Fae could demand your life,” Lucius said softly.

Severus wondered what Lucius hoped to accomplish. Every Death Eater in the room would gut him if he told them he had changed his mind now.

“I have never regretting sponsoring you,” Lucius said warmly. Weary resignation swept through Severus. Of course. These men believed that Severus was offering his life in exchange for the Dark Lord’s and Lucius wanted to remind them all that Severus was only a Death Eater because Lucius had argued for his inclusion, despite his half-blood status. No doubt he still expected gratitude for that. If it would not hurt Draco and put both Narcissa and her son in a terrible position, Severus would poison Lucius before undertaking this ridiculous ritual.

“There’s a reason our Lord embraced Severus so warmly,” Karkaroff said grandly. The bugger should go back to whatever Eastern European country he’d been hiding in.

“Of course there is. The Dark Lord knows best,” Carrow added. Rich given that he had argued with equal vehemence not two months earlier that none of them could trust Severus because his loyalties were suspect. Fortunately, few in this group listened to Carrow. In fact, those who would pose the most danger with their fanatical support of the Dark Lord and unwillingness to accept any half-truths were all missing. Bellatrix Lestrange might be in Azkaban, but Clytema Goyle and Phonia Crabbe were free. Free and missing. Old prejudices had returned now that the Dark Lord wasn’t here to demand that his most fawning followers be allowed to attend him. This had become a council of men.

“I must prepare,” Severus said, cutting the conversation short. The Death Eaters retreated to the walls, their silver masks reflecting the candlelight as Severus worked.

He added the dried ingredients to the cauldron and chanted in the old language—the sacred language of the Fae and hidden world. The words tumbled over his tongue after the first half-dozen repetitions, the sounds blending into a near-song. The ritual possessed Severus now. He could break free, but instead he lowered all his occlumency barriers and focused on what he hoped for—an escape route he had not seen. A way to stop the madness that lay on both sides of this conflict. A safe port from the fury the Dark Lord would rain down on all of them if he managed to return. The image of a shivering boy huddling on a dirty step came unbidden, but Severus refocused his mind on more significant issues. The plight of Potter’s cursed offspring was not his concern.

Some great force grabbed his mind and jerked him back to that moment when James Potter and his worthless friends had demeaned him. Again. When Lily had exacerbated his shame by coming to his aid as if he were a helpless child. Severus felt all the burning rage and humiliation of that moment, all of it fresh as if he were, once again, that helpless child. However much he tried to hide in his anger, more alien feelings now attached themselves to this moment. The grief and guilt he’d experienced at the moment where he’d found Lily’s body lay juxtaposed against his fury with Lily for shaming him. He saw her as one who would torment him and the victim of Severus’s own bad judgements at the same time. Her adolescent horror when he threw his words at her blended with her lifeless eyes and bloody hair when he had lifted her from the floor. The vividness of the two feelings was the worst pain he had ever experienced.

And when that pain started to fade, other threads wove themselves into the tapestry. If he had been honest with Lily, she would have known better how to help him. If he had told the Ministry that the Slytherins were recruiting for the Dark Lord, both sides would have seen him as unworthy of their time. They would have called him weak, but he had suffered far worse while chasing an illusion that he could make others respect him. His own pain, Lily’s pain, her death… those were, in part, the price of his pride. He styled himself the Half-blood Prince, seeking to escape his identity as a Snape, and the suffering that flowed from that cut like a knife through his guts.

He was jerked to a new memory with the abruptness of a portkey. Walking through a tunnel. Strange sounds ahead. Potter grabbing his arm. Black’s inane laugh. The terror of his realization that Black had arranged Severus’s death by werewolf. The fury that the headmaster would never punish Black or Lupin or Potter when they had lived to torment him. Those were familiar feelings, but now the vividness of Severus’s own cruelty echoed through that memory. He had gone through the tunnel hoping to find some evidence that would humiliate Potter and Black. He wanted all the pure bloods to know that these two upstanding members of the Sacred 28 were nothing more than delinquents. He wanted to hurt all of them. He had focused so much on his hate that he had never questioned the wisdom of reacting to Black’s taunts. He’d been as big of a fool as any Gryffindor.

Familiar thoughts were invaded, raided, twisted and polished until Severus was screaming as his very soul was unpicked like a poorly laid seam that a seamstress had to undo. Every moment of his life twisted into new shapes, and the worst pain was the realization that some part of this ritual sought to force honesty onto Severus. Given the life Severus had lived, honesty was the most painful torture. Eventually whispered words invaded his thoughts. “Mine,” one said. “Mine,” another protested. “Mine,” “Ours,” “Mine,” “Mine.” A hundred voices argue with each other, but with each repetition fewer and fewer voices called out. Those that remained grew louder until finally one voice shouted into the darkness and then there was silence.

Severus lay on the ground, his breathing harsh to his own ears. No one moved. Not a single robe rustled. Not a single Death Eater tried to claim credit for this moment. Severus let out a long groan as his body registered the pain that danced along his muscles.

“Severus?” Lucius asked softly.

Severus tried to roll to his side. He failed.

“Your robes, Severus. You… never-mind.” Lucius spoke louder now. “Scourgify.” That did suggest Severus had soiled his robes, but he hurt too much to care.

“Is he alive?” Someone asked in a whisper.

“Given the pain I feel, I assume so,” Severus answered.

Hands helped him sit up, but the movement was enough to make spots dance in Severus’s vision. “Drink this,” Lucius urged. Severus recognized one of his own potions—a pain reliever that he recommended after a crucio. He drank it quickly.

“Well?” Someone asked. Severus could not bother to focus his eyes well enough to determine who had asked. “Where’s the Dark Lord?”

“The Fae will provide the boon in their time, not ours,” Severus said, “and there is no way to determine what boon they will offer. They are equally likely to bring back the Dark Lord or strike Dumbledore dead in his office.” Equally likely in that Severus didn’t believe either would happen. However, he didn’t know what the Fae did have planned. He had felt the magic connect. He had successfully completed the ritual and the Fae had laid claim to him. He just didn’t know what his life had purchased.

“And the price?” Lucius asked.

“My life.” Severus didn’t flinch from the truth. Perhaps he was simply too tired to continue fighting for it. After what the Fae had just done to him—to his memories—death hardly seemed worse. Severus finally focused on Lucius—his oldest friend in Slytherin house and in the Death Eaters. The man had a thoughtful expression that had no room for grief. Severus could die and Lucius, the man who had named Severus godfather to his own son, would do no more than calculate potential advantages. This was the outcome of Severus’s choices. And after the Fae ritual, Severus could no longer deny that.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Severus cursed as his toe met his trunk, which had moved into the middle of his room. Severus looked around, wary for hidden visitors. However, he could sense no one. Ever since the Ostara ritual, his senses and his magic had been more sensitive, so he believed he was alone. And yet, his trunk had moved.

Severus returned it to its spot under a table, and he had no more than taken a step back when the truck slid closer again, and this time a soft wind moved his robes. Severus turned, but he saw no Fae. He felt no hands pulling him past the veil into either death or the Fae lands where no human could survive long. However, when he took a step back again, the wind grew stronger and he knew.

The Fae intended for him to travel, so travel he must. The feeling of being at someone else’s beck and call was so familiar that he could not summon the energy to resent their high-handed demand. His fifth years we’re coming up to their OWLS and his sevenths, their NEWTS. They needed his assistance. However, needs must.

He went to his wardrobe and retrieved his robes before returning to his trunk. The moment he opened it, he felt the magic. It was an extension charm, but one with power Severus had never before felt. The trunk felt dangerous. Dark. Endless. As an experiment, Severus transformed his bed to be narrower and longer and tilted it down into the trunk. The whole of the bed fit without taking any room in the trunk. Most of Severus’s room, including his wardrobe and potions table all fit despite the fact that he had only transfigured them enough to fit into the mouth of the trunk. Severus stood and lifted one side of the trunk, finding that it weighed no more than a book.

This was powerful magic. Fae magic. The headmaster must never know.

Severus pulled his bed back out and considered the many reasons the Fae might have graced him with their magic, and he could imagine a number of uncomfortable situations. They intended him to travel somewhere so isolated that he needed to carry all that he needed—perhaps through Fae lands. He needed resources. More than he could access from Hogwarts.

“Expecto Patronum.” His doe appeared, and Severus took a deep breath to compose his thoughts. He could not send a message to Lucius. Someone could overhear. However, Narcissa had retreated to the company of women sympathetic to the cause—women who likely knew of the ritual. “I need assistance immediately. I am walking to Hogsmead and will be in the Witch’s Shadow.”

The place was unpopular, largely because it was unsanitary, but that would offer them privacy. Not waiting for an answer, Severus called a house elf to deliver a message to Dumbledore. He would not be available for his afternoon class.

- - - - - - - - -

After casting a privacy spell, Severus waited in a dark corner of the pub, the smell of sour butterbeer and mold assaulting his senses. When the door opened, a old man with a scarred face came in, but he moved with a grace that did not match his age. Severus had warned Narcissa to control her body language when using polyjuice, but she had not taken his warning to heart. She crossed the barrier of his privacy spell and slipped into the chair across from him.

“What has happened?”

“The Fae have contacted me.”

She gasped and closed her eyes for a moment before drawing herself up proudly. “What do you need from me?”

“They have sent me a trunk with an endless expansion charm.”

“Endless?” Her eyes grew wide, but then she nodded slowly. “We know our magic is a pale imitation of theirs. Of course they could make a charm endless.” That was a belief she had best not repeat in front of Lucius or the Dark Lord. They didn’t want to admit that others had infinitely more power.

“I believe they mean for me to travel beyond the veil.”

“Beyond? Why?”

“I do not know. But why else would they give me an endless trunk? I must carry with me everything I need for an unknown amount of time.”

“And you must have everything you could possible require to nurse our Lord back to health. If they take both of you beyond the veil, He must not eat the Fae food.”

He must not. Yes, Severus was already lost to the Fae, but the Insane Lord must be defended at all costs from such a fate. Narcissa was a clever and caring woman, and yet she had no sympathy for anyone outside her own family and her Lord. At one point, Severus had thought he was family to her. She had named him godfather to young Draco, but he could see the truth now. She had already written him out of her story and her sympathies. He was a piece who had already been moved off the chess board.

“Can you receive packages by floo without the old fool tracking them?”

“He will know that I am receiving something, but he cannot trace who had sent them or know what is inside those packages unless it is a Dark artifact that sets off one of the alarms.”

“No nothing that projects magic. It must be contained.”

“Yes.”

“And how will you explain your absence to the fool?”

Severus had considered this. He needed to maintain the illusion that he worked for each side. Right now, that was his only protection. “I will tell him that I received an anonymous message ordering me to prepare for a long trip and pack all my potions.”

“He will assume we have found the Dark Lord and that you are required to tend him back to health.”

“Yes,” Severus agreed, “but he will not deny me because he will want me to retain the good opinion of the Dark Lord and his followers.”

“But you are the greatest potion master of our age. You could work miracles with your caldron. Why would he risk allowing you to help the Dark Lord?”

“Because he made me swear on my magic that I would protect the Potter brat. He believes that I will betray our Lord in order to save my own magic. That was the price I paid to stay out of Azkaban.”

She offered him a small smile. “But you have already pledged your life. I know you would offer nothing less to the Dark Lord, and if you survive, you will always have a place in my home, Severus. I will use my own magic to honor you forever.” She laid her hand on the back of his.

Severus did not know how to respond to such empty comfort. She did not expect him to survive, but she did expect him to pave the way for the Dark Lord to return. So her promise was empty of meaning.

She pulled her hand back and her body language shifted into the Purebred control that screamed her true identity, even under the noxious disguise. “I will contact the other families and have each send you what they can. I will send you the most dangerous artifacts first so you can hide them at the bottom of the trunk and have food, clothing, shelter and small luxuries to welcome back our Lord sent after.”

“I do not know if stasis fields can survive beyond the veil, so include food that will remain palatable in case it fails.”

She nodded. “Consider it done.” For the first time, her expression did show grief. “Draco will miss you terribly. I am not sure how to explain your absence.”

“And I will miss him. The impudent rapscallion is the only light in my difficult life.”

She smiled. “And mine. If it were not for him, I would offer to go with you. We have accomplished great things together, Severus. I never could have developed my occlumency to the extend I have without your assistance.”

“You were equally helping to me. I was, after all, able to hide my true motives from Dumbledore. I could not have done that without you. However, you must stay and protect Draco. I am doing this for him and the other children,” Severus lied. They were a part of his motive, but he still hoped to find an escape for himself. However, selfishness was an acceptable goal for Lucius, not for Narcissa. “I would have this war end in our day so the children do not have to fight.”

“That is my fondest wish,” Narcissa said. “I shall arrange everything. Materials will begin to arrive in one hour. Do you know how long you have before they shall call you?”

Severus shook his head.

“Then I shall do my best to make sure you have the most critical supplies as quickly as possible. She stood walked away without a backward glance. Severus laid a coin on the table to pay for the drink he had not consumed and then he went outside before summoning his Patronus.

“I am returning from Hogsmead. I must see you at the gates as soon as possible,” Severus said before sending his doe running toward the castle. The headmaster could apparate on the grounds, so he should appear in moments. Rather than waste time, Severus did the same, appearing just outside the castle wards. He waited only three or four minutes before Dumbledore appeared with a loud crack.

“Severus. This is highly unusual. I had to ask Minerva to cover your class.”

“That is your greatest concern?” Severus sometimes wondered if Albus had dabbled with Dark magic himself, enough to suffer a touch of madness, anyway.

“It’s my current concern. Minerva was most aggravated.”

Severus crossed his arms. “I am more aggravated to have been summoned by an unknown Patronus. Someone who walked like a pureblood and looked like a homeless man met met me at the Witch’s Shadow.” Severus found the truth to be the most convincing lie.

“Do you have new orders?”

“I was ordered to pack for a long voyage and take all my potions will me. They will floo me a trunk with a larger expansion charm and said I will receive packages.”

“They have found Tom,” Albus said quietly. When he was distracted, he would refer to the Dark Lord by that name, so Severus assumed Albus had known him before his rise to power among practitioners of Dark magic. Albus pinned him with a sharp look, and the cool fingers of Legilimency slid through Severus’s brain. Severus placed all his fears in the front of his mind. The disguised old man had not said what would arrive through the floo. Severus didn’t know when he was leaving or by what means. He didn’t know where he would go or when he would return. Worse, he had no idea what these people expected of him, and he feared his life would be forfeit at the end of the trip.

“Oh, my boy,” Albus said in his most condescending voice. “I wish I could help you with this burden. I have certain artifacts I could lend you since I believe with all my heart that you will return.”

Severus shook his head. “The risk is too great and I don’t know when I will return.” Severus doubted he would return at all, although Albus did not know about the ritual, so he could not understand the improbability of Severus’s survival. “If we wish to maintain my position, I believe you must keep a certain distance from me.”

Albus nodded. “True. True.” His gaze grew sharper and Severus prepared his occlumency shields. However, Albus did not intrude into his mind again. “If you can subtly poison Voldemort, do so. He will surely be weak, even after six years. However, do not risk your life if there is not a certain path to victory.”

“I do not plan to throw my life away foolishly,” Severus said while mentally adding ‘again.’ He had done that twice already and he had no more lives to give away. “If He Who Must Not Be Named has regained his strength, he will kill me and step over my body to return. I cannot help stop him if I have become one more victim.”

“Too right. You are a wise man, Severus Snape.”

Severus looked down his nose at Albus. He did not need such condescension.

“Wise, but difficult,” Albus added before apparating away. Were not the Dark Lord an utter psychopath, Severus would say that Albus was not worth following. However, given that he knew the flaws of each intimately, Severus would support Albus’s position as long as he could. He just didn’t believe the Fae would give him any choices about who he would support. Since he could not apparate, he walked toward the castle, determined to reach his rooms before Narcissa began sending through supplies.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Severus was levitating a series of live plants held in stasis into his trunk when he felt magic shift. He had weapons and wizarding tents, ward charms and food—so much food. Fine clothing and carpets and blankets. Galleons and books and his entire potions lab. He had unopened packages from half the apothecaries across Great Britain and letters from every Dark family that had stood with the Dark Lord. He even had fine couches and a transfigured four poster bed so that the Dark Lord could recover in comfort.

The letters were enough to send most of the remaining Sacred 28 families to prison if Severus turned them over, but as much as he sided with Albus over the Dark Lord, he sided with Dark families over Albus. It was a careful dance that was coming to an end because he could feel Fae magic grow stronger. The wild sense of storm and lightning and ocean waves crashing against rocks filled the air with power and a freshness that swept away the dungeon smells that Severus had grown used to in five years of teaching and living at Hogwarts. A wave toward his floo disconnected it so Narcissa and the noble families knew he was no longer receiving good. Then he closed his trunk and clutched the handle.

Between one blink and another, a Fae appeared. They were without gender or age, but full of ethereal beauty and cruel sharpness. Their cheekbones were too high, their chin too pointed, their fingers too long. Severus was trapped in the creature’s gaze as they reached for him. A stinging wind made Severus close his eyes and when he opened them, they were standing in an alley beside a poplar tree. There had been no pulling of a portkey or crack of apparation. There was only a flutter that marked their appearance.

Severus looked around, panicked that someone might have seen him, but no one was in sight. However, Severus recognized this place.

“Potter’s house? Why are we here?”

The Fae held out a three fingered hand toward the house. Severus’s stomach knotted. “Why are we here? What do you want with the Potter boy?”

The Fae repeated the gesture. Severus drew his wand to transfigure his robes into something more Muggle appropriate, but the Fae stopped him with a finger on Severus’s arm. Severus tucked his wand into his robe and sighed. He had made this mess, so he would have to see it through to the end.

“Very well. I will bring the boy out here.”

The Fae folded their hands together in front of them, and Severus took that as agreement. Perhaps the Fae planned to take the boy and leave a changeling. He was old for that, though. With no other choice, Severus went up to the door and rang the bell.

After a few seconds, Petunia answered the door. She stood with her plain frock and scowl and looked him up and down. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting the boy.” Severus went to enter, and Tuney stepped into his path.

“No. I forbid it. I allowed that horrible man to leave that boy here, but I will not have more freaks in my house.”

Severus looked down at the Muggle and wondered how Petunia and Lily could have come from the same parents. She had always taken sadistic glee in making Lily cry, and Severus had no doubt she did the same to Lily’s son. Before the threat of Azkaban and the statute of secrecy had limited his choices. However, now he belonged to the Fae. They would not give him up for anything as trivial as a law. He leaned closer and offered her a cold smile. “Do not order me or block me, Tuney. You will not like what I will do.”

“You can’t do anything,” she said, her expression mulish.

He drew his wand. “Aguamenti.” Water cascaded over her for two seconds, leaving her dripping and her hair plastered to the sides of her head. Severus pushed past her and into the house. The boy stood next to the kitchen doorway, his mouth open.

“How dare you. How dare you!” Tuney screeched. She stood next to the sofa, water dripping onto her carpet and her face slowly turning red.

“Harry,” Severus said as calmly as he could, “we are leaving. Please get your things.” Severus had spent the last five years teaching adolescents and pre-adolescents. He knew exactly how irrational the creatures were—and how likely they were to misunderstand the seriousness of a situation. Had he not had multiple students blow up caldrons after Severus had explicitly given them direction on how to avoid that fate? So he did not expect obedience. He had both a silencio and a stupify ready to cast if necessary.

“Okay,” the child said before walking to the cupboard door under the stairs. He reached in and pulled out the blanket Severus had given him that night and a handful of what appeared to be plastic toys. Then he stood watching Severus.

Confused, Severus moved toward the stairs, but Tuney was in front of him, poking him in the chest even as she dripped. “You stay out of my business, Severus Snape. I’ll tell someone you were doing magic where you weren’t supposed to. There are rules. I know all about the rules. I’ll get you in trouble.” Her victorious expression made Severus laugh.

She drew back in fear, and Severus stalked her. “I could leave you writhing in pain. I could steal your thoughts, erase you memories. I could cut you open, leaving a wound that would never heal. I could let fire swallow you. And you think I am afraid of you tattling?” He asked incredulously. She clutched her sweater and watched him with huge eyes.

Ignoring her for the moment, Severus returned to his goal. The open cupboard door revealed a mattress on the floor, a rumpled sheet covering most of the stained ticking. Crayon figures on the wall suggested the boy had spent a lot of time in this dreadful place with only a single light bulb to combat the darkness and discourage the spiders that nested in the corners.

Severus had suspected Tuney would treat the boy poorly. He’d known as much as fact after he’d visited, but he had never dreamed that she was capable of such cruelty. Even Severus’s father had never subjected him to this sort of cruelty. The mismatched clothing from charity shops, the neglect and hunger and fear were all the same, but this casual “storing” of a child in a cupboard was a level of cruelty even Tobias Snape had not achieved.

Severus whirled around, and Tuney was white as a sheet and her hands trembled. Good. She understood what she had done.

“You abused Lily’s child. Lily’s only child.” Severus kept his voice low, but she heard the danger because she backed up until she was pressed against the wall.

“I didn’t want him.”

“And had you died and Lily inherited your son, do you believe Lily ever would have treated him like this?” Severus demanded. She broke eye contact. “Lily loved you, even when you were cruel and thoughtless and petty. You were her sister.”

Petunia straightened. “She was a freak,” she spat out.

“And you wanted to be a freak, too. I remember you crying because she could go to magic school and you couldn’t. Do you remember that Tuney? Do you remember how she tried to comfort you?”

She stepped away from the wall. “If you want the boy, take him. You should have taken him from the beginning. You were Lily’s friend. I wasn’t. So take the freak and get out of my house.”

“Gladly,” Severus shouted. He turned and held his hand out toward Harry. For a moment, Harry just looked at it, but then he slid his hand into Severus’s. “Miserable woman,” Severus said as he strode out of the house. He had to slow his steps when the child could not keep up.

The Fae waited by the poplar, outside the property. Severus wondered if the creature could not cross the blood wards or if they wished to avoid alerting Dumbledore. Given that Severus had walked onto the property with the intent of removing Harry and handing him over to the Fae, Severus was surprised the wards had not already summoned Aurors. Harry sucked in a startled breath, but he didn’t comment on the ethereal and dangerous creature waiting for them.

The Fae held out their hand, and Severus tried to transfer the boy’s hold, but Harry clung to him the way Draco would when Severus said he had to leave for the evening. So he was a normal boy after all. With a sigh, Severus surrendered to the idea that he would be pulled along to the boy’s destination. He took his trunk in his free hand and told the boy, “Take the Fae’s hand.”

“Why?” Potter asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Because I am telling you to do so.” That would never have worked with Draco, but Harry raised his free hand to the Fae. A moment of wind and fluttering, and they appeared in a cave. White light reflected through the space and the wind howled past the wide opening. Severus felt Fae magic under his feet, a faint stir that made him feel like he was standing on a thin crust of ice under which raged a storm.

“Where are we?” Severus asked.

The Fae glided away. Severus followed him to the mouth of the cave. They were high in the mountains and in every direction icy crags covered the land. This might not be the land of Fae, but it was the sort of place where frost giants and dragon ruled and where wizards were unwelcome. At least he was free of Albus and the Dark Lord. Since the wind whipped shards of icy through the air, Severus abandoned his plan to follow the Fae. He turned to see Harry had pulled his blanket around his small frame and he was shaking.

“Silly dolt. Ask if you need help.” Severus returned to the child, casting a warming charm, first on Harry and then himself.

Harry nodded, his breath thick white vapor in the frigid air.

Severus went to one knee the way he would when Draco was being particular obstreperous. “Are you warm enough?”

He nodded again.

“Do you need anything?”

Harry bit his lip for a moment before he whispered, “What happened to Aunt Petunia?”

Severus snorted. “Nothing. She deserved punishment, but we shall both have to live with knowing that she will never suffer anything more than having water dumped over her head.”

Harry offered a small smile. His gaze darted toward the mouth of the cave, and Severus turned to see the Fae return. It moved like a predator, with such grace and power that Severus fought an instinct to flee. It held out a hand, a glowing red gem resting against his palm. Severus cautiously took the stone. It had a rune carved on the curve of the cabochon, but not one Severus recognized. The Fae moved to the center of the room and held out a hand, palm up. The rock trembled and then a circular platform rose under him until it formed a large table, three feet high and twelve feet across. Then a smaller circle of rock rose in the center of that.

The Fae pointed at Severus and then Harry before pointing to the rock circle. Severus held his hand out and Harry took it without hesitation, allowing Severus to help him onto the table. When Severus put the red gem down in the inner circle, the Fae gestured for him to touch the rune. After years of upbraiding foolish Gryffindors for touching magic they did not understand, this was his punishment. With a deep breath, he rested his finger against the stone, and his magic flowed through the rune so it glowed.

“Harry, come touch it,” Severus said.

“What is it?”

“Magic.”

“What kind of magic?”

Normally Severus would applause someone who asked questions before rushing into a spell, but these were not normal circumstances. “We are guests of the Fae. As guests, we do not have the option of refusing their requests, so kindly touch the stone, young imp.”

“Okay.” Harry reach over the lip of stone that separated the table from this smaller basin. When he touched the rune, his magic echoed across the room. As soon as that was done, Severus pulled the boy away because he realized this was a circular eschara—a sacred fire pit, only one that the Fae had elevated.

The Fae touched the rune, and a bright fire burst to life, and a wave of magic rolled through the cave. The walls smoothed until the polished stone revealed vivid colors and veins of precious metals. Narrow crevasses became grand doorways with carved wooden doors and the ceiling sparkled with hundreds of crystals embedded in the stalactites like abstract chandeliers.

A hearth stone. It was said the oldest manors had one hidden somewhere under a sacred fire. As long as the fire burned, the house would stand. Lucius claimed Malfoy manner was under the protection of such magics and that was the source of his ability to convince others that the Dark Lord has forced his allegiance. The oldest families even claimed that when they left Rome and the Etruscan empires, they brought their homes with them through hearth stones that allowed them to recreate abandoned manors.

Severus blinked at the magical fire, feeling the heat of it soak into his bones. He turned to ask the Fae for their next task, but he realized he was alone.

Or no. He was not alone. He was in an isolated cave that was meant to be his home with Harry Potter. He panicked. Severus was not too proud to admit it. He had no idea what to do with such a young child.

“What now, sir?” Harry asked.

Severus took a deep breath. What indeed.

“Sir?”

Severus’s gaze fell on his trunk. “We unpack, young fool. What else does one do after one has moved?”

Instead of taking offense at the insult, Harry’s face lit with joy. “We’re living here now? Without Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?”

“Do I appear to be the sort of man to endure the company of those two cretins?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you have your answer,” Severus snapped. Merlin’s balls. Never negotiate with the Fae. Severus stepped down off the table which was now clearly a circular bench intended to give them a place to sit near the fire. He needed to explore before he decided to unpack. And hopefully that would allow him to get some distance from the child the Fae had apparently foisted upon him.