No Way Back

Written for the Snarry Games 2007
Team War Time
Genre: AU and Angst Prompt: Time Bomb

Word count: 77,779

Summary: At the end of fifth year, Harry falls into a mirror and is forever changed by the experience.

Disclaimer 1: This world and everything in it belong to JK Rowling.
I'm just playing here and I'll give the characters back unharmed when I'm done.

Disclaimer 2: My story starts with the same premise as Midnight Blue's Mirror of Maybe
-- that Harry Potter goes through a magical mirror at the end of fifth year, and lives another life --
after that our stories diverge and my story isn't a rewrite of hers.
I also have written permission from Midnight Blue to use her concept.

Note 1: Special thanks to Fabula Rasa for the Latin incantation in part 15.
It was above and beyond to provide me with that and I can't thank her enough.

Note 2: Many, many thanks to my fabulous betas: regan_v , bethbethbeth , joanwilder. and painless_j .
Any mistakes after all their hard work are my own.

Severus Snape scowled in disgust as he watched the children eagerly line up to see a glimpse of their futures. After the debacle at the Ministry and Black's death, the Headmaster had decided that a party would cheer up those who had had such an unpleasant experience. Read: Harry Potter. Who was not likely to be appreciative of anything the Headmaster did or said right now.

At least the term was almost over. A few more hours were all he had to endure of Potter and his classmates. Then, blessedly, he would be free until the autumn.

Fudge, being the obsequious prat that he was, had come for the leaving feast, and brought the Mirror of Posterus, which showed the observers a moment or two of happiness in their future. Or, as Snape understood it, a possible moment in the future.

It was an artifact from the Department of Mysteries. Albus had heard about it and Fudge had assured him that it would be harmless fun for the children. In hopes of ingratiating himself with Albus, Fudge had readily agreed to provide it for the leaving feast.

It galled Snape that once again Potter was being coddled. The boy needed to learn from his mistakes, not be rewarded for them. But Albus was not in the mood to listen. Not that he ever was these days.

Snape sighed as yet another fifth year laughed at whatever image she saw in the mirror. Granger, Potter and Weasley were standing together not far from him.

"It will be fun. Go on, Harry," Snape heard Granger encourage the sullen Potter.

"If it's so much fun, why didn't you do it?" Potter turned to glare at her. But he seemed unable to maintain his ire.

"I don't want to know my future. I'd rather be surprised." Granger put her hands on her hips, but she sounded like she might be afraid of her future.

"It's supposed to show you something good. Maybe it will be something that might give you some answers...." She trailed off, her face going red.

"I already know my future. And there's not much happiness in it." Potter's voice was filled with painful certainty.

Even as much as Snape disliked the boy, he winced at the sound. No one his age should sound so defeated. Even Snape himself hadn't been like that at fifteen.

"Go on. Maybe you'll see something brilliant," Weasley said. He looked more hopeful than Potter did.

Even from where he was standing, Snape could see the surly expression on Potter's face and he wanted to smack it off.

Potter sighed heavily, and lifted his wand. "Fine. Show me everything you know," he whispered.

As his wand touched the mirror, Potter cried out and the entire room seemed to turn as one to look at him. The mirror's glass surface swelled outwards. Slowly, Potter fell forward into it, disappearing completely. The glass returned to normal with a soft pop.

For one second, there was stunned silence. Several of the students screamed, Lavender Brown the most loudly. A few more started to cry.

Granger and Weasley both gasped, and being an imbecile, Weasley reached out to touch the glass.

"Don't touch it, you moron," Snape roared at him, rushing over to them. The boy didn't have the sense of a Crup.

Both Albus and Fudge stared opened-mouthed at the mirror. Minerva started, and then said, "Everyone please return to your common rooms."

There was a general murmur of disagreement, but most obeyed, albeit slowly. Snape glanced at the Slytherin prefects, giving them a curt nod. They knew what to do.

"I don't understand what happened?" Granger was on the verge of tears. "This was supposed to be harmless." She looked at Fudge as if expecting him to explain it to her. To make it better.

"Just how many times have you used the mirror?" Minerva's tone was clipped. She was keeping an eye on the slowly exiting students.

"Its use should have been perfectly safe." Albus' tone was accusatory. Surely he knew what the mirror would do before he allowed its use.

"How does the mirror work? I mean, where does the image come from?" Granger asked, sounding angry as well as confused.

Fudge turned to Albus, ignoring Granger. "After you asked about it, I checked around. It was created as an amusement for the children. Nothing more. It was supposed to --"

"We know what it was supposed to do," Snape snapped, annoyed that Fudge could be so incredibly stupid, but not surprised in the least. "What we need to ascertain is what it did do."

Minerva made a point of looking around. All the students had vacated the Hall. Only Weasley and Granger remained -- so typical of Gryffindors to disobey.

"I think you both should return to the common room," Minerva said, and her voice brooked no argument.

As the two of them started to move away, the mirror bowed, pushing outward, and then, as if it had a sour stomach, it belched out Potter.

Looking stunned, Potter faced the mirror, blinking for several seconds. His eyes focused, and then widened. He touched the image of himself. His hand flattened against the surface, and he let out a low soft moan of such grief and loss that Snape was surprised a fifteen year old, even Potter, could make such a sound.

"No...no..." Potter whimpered, smashing his fist against the glass. "No...Please no." His voice had a sob in it. A sound Snape had never heard him make, no matter what the cause. For another moment, Potter leaned his head against the ornate frame of the mirror, breathing in and out audibly.

Slowly, he turned his head to look at those gathered around him. His eyes filled as he took in Albus. "Professor Dumbledore?" Potter whispered.

"Oh, sweet Merlin!" Potter launched himself at Albus, clutching him tightly and burying his face in the front of Albus' robes. Albus' expression was incredulous. He had a right to be surprised, given the cold shoulder he'd had from Potter the past few days.

"Harry, it's all right. You're back." Albus held him for a moment more, and then gently eased him away. "Do you know what happened?"

"Do you remember going into the mirror," Albus asked softly as if he were afraid to startle him.

Again Potter shook his head and then his brow creased, and he looked back at the mirror. "Mirror?"

Potter was silent, looking like he was working out an Arithmancy problem in his head. Which, of course, he couldn't do. "Is that what happened?" he finally asked. "I went into the mirror this time?"

"This time," Fudge asked, his voice sharpening, as if looking for a weak point. "Have you gone into a mirror some other time?"

"What are you talking about, Cornelius?" Albus' tone was incredulous, but it was clear that he knew something more was going on. Snape wasn't sure what to make of it, though.

"Well, he just said he'd gone into the mirror this time." Fudge looked accusingly at Potter.

"Did you or did you not say that you went into the mirror this time?" Fudge's voice was annoyed and his expression was sour.

And rather surprisingly, Potter cringed, as if he were afraid, but something registered in his eyes, something calculating. "Did I say that?"

"Let him be, Cornelius. Can't you see the poor boy is confused?" Albus patted Potter on the shoulder. "Take your time, Harry. Can you tell us what happened to you?"

Almost imperceptibly, Potter's eyes flicked to Fudge, and then swept the room and settled on him. Snape was stunned to see the momentary...softness in Potter's gaze when it rested on him.

When Potter looked back at Albus, his expression was completely blank. "I'm kind of tired. Can we talk about it in the morning?"

"Harry?" Granger and Weasley pushed past everyone. Granger pulled Potter into her arms.

"Hermione?" Potter looked stunned to see her there. There was something in his tone, surprise, grief, something that Snape couldn't quite identify.

"Of course. Who else would it be?" she gently chided. "We were so worried when you disappeared into the mirror."

Potter nodded, but it was more than clear that he was anything but all right. His face was pale and his eyes darted between Granger and Weasley.

"I think Harry needs to see Madam Pomfrey," Granger said, interrupting Fudge, and then looked up at him as if daring him to argue with her.

When Fudge would have opened his mouth to argue, Albus shook his head. "Harry's health is too important to risk."

"I'll escort you out, Minister," Albus said, and stepped back. "Professor Snape, if you would see Mr Potter to the infirmary. And Professor McGonagall, if you would take Miss Granger and Mr Weasley back to their common room?"

Fudge looked like he might argue, but Albus didn't give him the chance. He took Fudge's arm and led him bodily from the Hall. He really should have done that a couple of hours ago, long before all of this happened.

"We'll wait for you there, Harry," Granger said. Both she and Weasley knew they were outflanked, and went along meekly, or as meekly as any Gryffindor ever did.

"Potter." Snape held out his hand and Potter preceded him to the main entrance way. As soon as they cleared the Hall, Potter stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing in and out.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" Snape hadn't thought he was in that bad a shape, but clearly the boy was not well.

"No. No. I assume that Professor Dumbledore wants to see me." Something in his voice wasn't quite right. There was a touch of firmness or surety or something Snape could not quite put his finger on, but it set off alarm bells.

"If you're all right, then we'll proceed to the Headmaster's office and wait for him and Professor McGonagall to return."

It didn't set well with Snape. But again, it was nothing he could put his finger on as wrong. "About twenty minutes."

Potter looked back at the mirror through the open doors of the Great Hall, his face profoundly sad.

Harry went into Dumbledore's office. It felt so odd to be in it again. Everything felt odd, out of place. And it was. Or rather he was.

The baby Fawkes looked up at him. Harry smiled, and held his hand out to the small bird. "Remember me?"

Fawkes hesitated for a moment. He cocked his head and studied Harry, as if deciding whether or not Harry was who he was supposed to be. Finally, he climbed onto Harry's hand. "I guess you do remember me."

"Why wouldn't he? You were in this office just a few days ago," Snape asked. "As a matter of fact, you made quite a mess of the place."

Yes, now that he knew where he was, he remembered trashing Dumbledore's office. He winced. "I'll explain when everyone else gets here."

Snape looked like he might want to argue with that, but fortunately, he thought better of it. Harry wasn't up to doing this twice.

He petted the bird for a few minutes, trying to prepare his explanations. Nothing he was going to say would make sense. They weren't going to believe him. And given the circumstances, he wasn't sure he'd believe what he was going to tell them, either. Of course, he'd lived his life and he knew that the events he'd describe had indeed happened. That didn't mean he was going to be able to convince anyone else of it.

Before he could make a decision on how best to approach the unapproachable, the door swung open.

"Harry. Can you tell us what happened?" Dumbledore asked as he and McGonagall came into his office.

Harry took a deep breath. "I can only guess. I believe I was thrown into an alternate universe after I went through the mirror's surface, or perhaps a parallel universe might be a better description." From the looks on their faces, it was clear they were already having some trouble believing it. That was okay: Harry was, too. "There's more. I lived twenty years there."

"That's preposterous! Surely you aren't going to believe this rubbish, are you, Headmaster?" Snape's entire countenance was outraged.

The bluster made Harry want to smile. It had been a long time since he'd heard Snape go off like that. It reminded him of better times. "It's true. Besides, I can prove it."

"How? You don't look any older than you did when you went into the mirror. Why would we believe you?" McGonagall asked.

"As you well know, looks can be deceiving. This body hasn't aged. But I have. In my reality, the mirror didn't show me anything. I remember it swelling outwards, towards me, but I stepped back and nothing happened. It just reflected my face back at me. It was rather disappointing. I went home the next day and my life went on."

They were looking at him, waiting. This was the part where he took a gamble. "There are things you need to know. Things that must be done so that you can avoid the fate of my time."

"No. I killed him. But it took years to find all the Horcruxes, even with Professor Snape on the inside feeding me and the Order information."

"You know about Horcruxes? How? I haven't told you yet." Dumbledore's tone was shocked.

"You told me in my sixth year. Merlin, so much has happened since then." And so much had to happen if this timeline were to avoid the fate of his. For a moment, Harry was nearly overwhelmed with the sheer enormity of what he was going to do. The things he needed to tell them. "Let's start with the most important information, first."

"For now, two things," Harry replied. He kept his tone mild. Over the years he'd gotten pretty good at avoiding Snape's attempts to bait him. "The first thing is that there are seven Horcruxes, not six and --"

"We thought that too. Unfortunately, we were proven wrong. It caused us no end of trouble." And it nearly cost him his life.

"Severus. Please. Let him finish," Dumbledore said. His voice had a note of some emotion that Harry couldn't identify.

"There's more. And it's worse." Harry rubbed the back of his neck, surprised at how short his hair was. "I don't want to go into every detail of everything now. There is so much that needs to be accomplished."

"I think we need more details, Mr Potter. If we're going to believe what you're telling us." It was clear from McGonagall's tone that she was starting to believe him.

"As I said, it took years to track down Voldemort's Horcruxes. By the time Hermione, Ron and I got them all, Voldemort was quite mad. Lucius Malfoy was out of prison and running the Death Eaters. So much so that killing Voldemort was anti-climatic. It didn't make that much difference.

"After that, the Death Eaters stepped up their killings and other 'Muggle-cleansing' actions. It got harder and harder for the MLE to keep control. The whole Wizarding world was overtaken by civil unrest. We came very close to outright civil war."

"It took years after that to kill Lucius Malfoy and disband the Death Eaters. By the time the mirror spat me out into this universe, we had been at peace for only a few years."

"There's more. The main reason that everything fell apart so quickly was a well-timed attack on Hogwarts. In what would have been my seventh year, one hundred and fifty students died when the Death Eaters attacked, and the wards protecting the school collapsed."

"I didn't think that was possible," McGonagall said, her face pale with shock and disbelief.

He met Dumbledore's eyes. "The heartstone that anchors the wards has a minute crack in it."

"Unfortunately, Sev...Professor Snape, it is. Tom Riddle found the physical stone, which is accessible through the Chamber of Secrets. He put the crack in it."

"You're not considering trusting him, are you? This clearly isn't Harry Potter." Snape's tone was scathing. He glared at Harry, folding his arms over his chest. But beneath the bluster, Harry could sense his fear. That bothered him more than he could say. He hadn't considered that reaction when he'd started this conversation.

"Oh, I am Harry Potter. I'm just not your Harry Potter, anymore. For one thing, I'm thirty-five, almost thirty-six. And I've lived through twenty years past the time that you knew me." Harry smiled sadly at them.

"I think he's telling the truth," Dumbledore said. But it was clear that even Dumbledore wasn't completely convinced.

"How could he even know about the heartstone?" Snape directed his question to Dumbledore.

Harry answered anyway. "My fifteen year old self didn't know. Ron and Hermione and I had left school by the time Voldemort attacked Hogwarts, but many of my friends died that day." The pain had dulled as the years passed, and he'd moved on, but at the time he'd been devastated. One of those who died was Ginny Weasley, whom he'd loved dearly. "I can fix the heartstone. More than that, I want to. No one needs to die because of that."

"I managed it at nineteen. I think it should be easier now." Harry was assuming his magic was going to work the same way as it had in his time and reality, where he was physically older. He could feel it coursing through him, the same way it always had. That didn't mean it would be exactly the same, but the power of an adult wizard was still there.

"If you're Harry Potter, then you're fifteen," Snape said, making a point of looking down at him.

It wasn't that easy to intimidate him these days, and he smiled back at Snape. "My body is fifteen. My mind and my magic are thirty-five."

"Albus, I think that if the heartstone is cracked as Mr Potter has said, then we should allow him to fix it, if he can," McGonagall said.

"And if he's not Potter, then he could damage it or damage it further." Snape's eyes bored into his, as if he could see who Harry was just by looking hard enough. "Perhaps that is his plan."

"If it can be repaired. I can do some research on it." Snape looked ready to leave.

He should have remembered just how challenging Snape could be. Under most circumstances, Harry found it amusing rather than irritating, but right now he was too tired to deal with Snape in full difficult mode. "Shall we go and have a look at it? You'll be able to see the crack. I know how to open the chamber."

"There's actually an easier way in than the third floor toilet." Dumbledore smiled at him, and gestured toward his door.

"How would you make the attempt to fix it?" Snape obviously didn't believe he could do it at all.

"We need four anchors for the wards. One for each direction, two wizards and two witches. I'll cast the magic to fix the stone and then the four reset the wards." The proof would be in the doing.

"Could I do it?" With good reason, Dumbledore didn't sound like he wanted to do it.

"Even as powerful as you are, it would still drain you badly. Do you want to risk it? I know you have no reason to trust me, but I will do my best for you." It was asking a lot for them to trust him, and he wasn't sure he'd do it were the situation reversed. Still, he hoped his sincerity was clear.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment and then sighed. "Perhaps not. If you can, then we should allow you to do so."

"Surely not," Snape said. "We have no reason at all to trust him. And very clearly he's not the Harry Potter who went into the mirror this evening. Who he is beyond that, is a mystery."

What could he say to convince him? Harry looked at Snape. "I am Harry Potter, though. Does anyone else know about the Pensieve memory of my father that I saw in your office in my fifth year?

Dumbledore rubbed his beard. "That might be a way to know. Will you allow someone into your mind?"

That would not be his first choice on how to prove his loyalty. He didn't want anyone mucking around in his mind. Beyond that, he also felt compelled to point out, "I've become as skilled in Occlumency as Professor Snape. You'd only see what I wanted you to see."

"There is no way to know for certain then." Snape seemed pleased, as if it proved his point.

He'd forgotten how petty Snape was during this period of his life. And not without good reason. Harry knew that, but it didn't make him easier or more pleasant to deal with. "You'll have to take my word for it. The wards will fall."

"Why are you telling us? Aren't you afraid of changing the future?" McGonagall wrung her hands. Clearly she thought that the future was a set thing.

"I want to change the future. We spent years at war. Too many people died. Too many of my friends." It had taken years for Harry to be able to think about it without his chest hurting.

"It's possible, but maybe it will be better. I know that what did happen was awful." And really, Harry would rather take the chance.

"No doubt. But I have to try and make sure it isn't the same." A different set of events might not be better, but it would give them other options. The ones from his time were too grim to allow them to happen again.

"Just being a wizard in this world gives me the right to try and save it. It's something you should know about, given your role here, Professor Snape." Harry smiled at him.

Snape scowled back. But perhaps his expression wasn't as mean-spirited as it might have been.

"We should go down to the Chamber and see the crack." That would be the best way to start convincing them. But he rather thought that they were half-convinced at this point.

Surprisingly, Dumbledore shook his head. "I think it can all wait until the morning. After the students have left."

"I'm supposed to return to the Dursleys' in the morning." He'd never been able to bring himself to forgive them for their years of abuse. And now, he didn't want to think about how he might react to their hatred. Too much had happened in his life to be able to put up with that much ugliness without cursing one or all of them.

"I think that you should go home. We can look at the stone in your absence." Dumbledore seemed to be on firmer ground, trying to put Harry back in his fifteen year old place.

He'd hoped that Dumbledore would be more convinced than this, but Harry wasn't going to allow him to send him away. Whether they liked it or not, they needed him. "The wards are magical. I'm fifteen physically, but magically I'm far too old. The blood magic will know I'm past the age of protection."

"You don't actually know that. You don't know that you have any magic at all." Snape, being Snape, would also no doubt hold out as long as he could, continuing to believe that Harry was an upstart child.

After all these years, Harry knew how to deal with Snape. "Perhaps not with absolute surety, but I can feel the magic at my control."

"That you can feel your magic is a good sign that it's there." For whatever reason, McGonagall wanted to believe in him. He smiled gratefully at her.

"Nonetheless, I think we would be wise to see to your protection," Dumbledore said, obviously not ready to concede.

Challenging Dumbledore outright was not an ideal choice of tactics for convincing them he was trustworthy, but he also wasn't going to be pushed into something he didn't want or need. "I will not return there. You told me once that some wounds never heal. I didn't appreciate at the time how right you were."

Harry folded his arms over his chest. "No. I can't be. Even you would have a very hard time forcing me to do anything I didn't want to do."

"Enough. You're right, we can't force you," Dumbledore said, conceding at last. "I'll owl your relatives and alert them that you won't be returning tomorrow."

"Or at all. I have the means to buy a house of my own. Which I'd like to do." Harry wondered if the house he'd bought when he'd been eighteen was on the market yet.

"Whatever you might be in terms of your mental age, you are still only fifteen in the eyes of the Wizarding world. You can't buy anything," Dumbledore said.

Harry supposed not. This was going to be amazingly inconvenient. How was he going to get anything done? "Can I have myself declared a legal adult, responsible for myself?"

"Not until you're sixteen. And it's only in the rarest of cases that the Wizengamot will grant that. You would have to tell them why and I don't think it would stay a secret after that," McGonagall said, her tone apologetic.

Keeping it a secret, at least from the general public, was paramount. There was nothing he could do about it, then. He needed to think about this, and he was too tired to even begin considering it. "All right. I'll worry about it later."

"I think it's time you returned to your dormitory room." Dumbledore made it a request, but really, Harry had no choice right now.

He turned to go. Oh, fuck. He turned back, feeling particularly stupid. "I'll need the password."

"Yes." He'd been back to the castle since he'd left it at the end of sixth year.

Harry said the password to the common room and went inside. Hermione and Ron were asleep on the sofa, clearly having waited for him.

They were so young. So innocent. Still unmarred by the Dark Magic that would eventually taint them both, just as it did him. The world hadn't yet changed them into adults, more quickly than they could process.

He felt ridiculously protective towards them. And yet, he knew they would and did stand with him through everything that came, good and bad, for all the years that he needed them. His Hermione and Ron.

Sitting down with a sigh, Harry couldn't look away from them. Hermione had a book across her lap. They were still children. He couldn't reconcile them with the memory of his battle-weary friends.

A wave of grief went through him. His Hermione and Ron were lost to him. He'd never see them again. Nor his godchildren. Nor his lover.

His eyes suddenly stung. Putting his face in his hands, and biting back a sob that threatened to tear him apart, he fought to control himself. Dear Merlin, he'd lost everything. Every relationship he'd ever had, everything he'd ever worked for, his world, imperfect though it was. Everything was gone in a heartbeat.

How had this happened to him? What were his friends and family doing and saying right now? Did they even know? Did that world even exist anymore?

His chest squeezed tightly. He wanted to go home. To his remaining friends, to his lover, to a world where he wasn't going to have to start all over again.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, surprise and sleep coloring her words. "Are you thinking about Sirius?"

"Sirius?" Harry blinked at her. Oh. He hadn't thought of Sirius in years. Well, except in passing. There would always be a special place for him in Harry's heart. But there had been so many losses since then. He shook his head, hoping to clear it.

Hermione leaned forward, and used her thumb to gently wipe the tears he hadn't realized he'd shed.

"Sorry," Harry said, feeling stupid for saying it, and more so for dropping his guard.

"Too much." He couldn't begin to explain it to her. That Dumbledore told him not to say anything didn't have much impact on him. Protecting people was all well and good, but he'd found that lying to them, and keeping them in the dark, made things harder in the end. Keeping secrets had, in most cases, done far more harm than good.

"Professor Snape took me up to Dumbledore's office." Harry paused, still not sure what he should tell her.

"And nothing. Why were you waiting? Madam Pomfrey might have kept me all night?"

"We didn't think she would. Not on the last night of school," Ron said, sitting up and yawning.

"You're not going to tell us, are you?" Hermione folded her arms over her chest. She didn't expect him to say. At the end of fifth year, he might not have.

Harry stood, giving himself another moment or two to come up with something. If he'd lost his Hermione and Ron, then those two had lost their Harry as well. Because who he was now was not who they expected him to be. His throat closed and he breathed out hard. "It's complicated."

"You have no idea." Harry sat back down. "This is going to be hard for you to accept."

Both of them looked at him, wide-eyed, expectant. And so innocent, but still ready to take on the world at his request.

Merlin, how he loved them. He'd never have his friends back, but maybe there could be new ones. Not the same, no, but perhaps in time, close. "When I went through the mirror, I lived another life."

"But you were only gone twenty minutes. That wasn't long enough --" She cut herself off, and Harry could see her working it through in her mind.

Even at sixteen, she was one of the smartest witches he'd ever known. Although he had a good idea of what would happen, he would still need her skills and the ones she would acquire to make sure that they knew what they needed to know about each task. But this time, he could keep her safe. Keep both of them safe.

Hermione's eyes were wide with fear as she stood up and backed away a step before stopping. "You're not Harry Potter, then."

"Where is our Harry Potter?" She asked, her hands on her hips, but her voice shaking.

"I don't know. I lived those years." The idea that he might have changed places with the fifteen year old gave him pause. Was there a younger version of him now living in his reality? With his lover? He couldn't bear to consider the possibility. Harry pushed the thought aside, and focused his attention again on Hermione and Ron.

"The mirror brought you back to this time." Ron ran a hand through his hair. "I don't understand. You look the same to me."

"But your mind. You know what's going to happen." Hermione was afraid, but she stood her ground. "You can't tell anyone or you'll change --"

"I want to change things. I don't want anyone to live through the years of war and strife that we...I lived through. I told Dumbledore the same thing. I want it to be better than it was in my time."

"How can you know it will be better?" Ron didn't look or sound as scared as Hermione did, but Harry thought that was because it hadn't hit him yet.

"All I know is that it will be different. And I want that." Harry hoped he'd make things better, but to not try, to do nothing was not an option for him. He couldn't let things just happen as they had when he'd had no choice about it.

"She's right. You can't simply muck around with the future because you want to," Ron had clearly started to understand what this meant.

But Harry couldn't let that stop him. "It's mucked around with me and I have to think there was a reason for it. Besides, I've already changed things. I have to try and fix what I know will go wrong. I won't let the people I love die, not if I can do anything about it. And I can. That's all there is to say about that." Harry hadn't meant to be so forceful.

They knew him and maybe for all that he'd changed in the years, the essential part of him was still the same. Harry smiled at her. "It is me. I'm still going to need your help, too."

Although he suspected that the age gap between them would be too great to forge the same friendship they'd had, he hoped that over time they might find common ground. If nothing else, he'd protect them. Perhaps having them at hand would ease some of the pain of the loss he felt.

"We're with you, Harry. Whichever Harry you are. You know that." Ron glanced at Hermione and she nodded, too.

"What do you want us to do? We're leaving tomorrow," Hermione said, ready to take on the world at his command. While that wasn't going to be necessary, he did truly appreciate it.

"First, I think I need to know as much about the mirror as you can find out. I want to know why it did this to me."

"I should be able to do some research at home. What about Ron?" Hermione's brow creased, and Harry could tell she was already working out ways to get access to what she needed.

"Yeah. What do you need me to do?" Ron asked with a note of fear of not being included in his voice.

And right now, Harry was afraid that was just what he was going to do. "Now? There really isn't anything for you to do. I'm sure there will be in the future. Maybe in a couple of weeks."

"Unless you want to help me research the mirror," Hermione suggested with a smile. She clearly didn't think Ron would be interested in that.

Something of the seriousness of the situation must have made an impact on Ron. He nodded. "Sure. If you think it will help. I'm not nearly as good at that as you are though."

"Thanks," Harry said, including them both. "I'll contact you both at home. I'll be staying on here."

"He didn't have much choice, did he? I'm nearly certain the blood magic won't work now." Harry didn't care if it would, either. But he wasn't going to challenge Dumbledore's authority directly with them. They would still be students after he was gone.

For a second, Harry didn't understand why she didn't know. But of course, he hadn't told them yet. Dumbledore had only told him a few days ago in this timeline. "My mother's love for me and her sacrifice protected me when I lived with the Dursleys."

"Yes. He didn't bother to tell me that until the end of fifth year." It was one of the things that annoyed him about Dumbledore when he thought back on it. Not that knowing would have changed anything, but knowing might have given some meaning to his having to suffer the Dursleys each summer.

"Yeah. Really." He could see her absorb the knowledge. Soon she would realize what it would mean.

"Is that why you didn't try the mirror?" There was a touch of scorn in Ron's tone.

"I don't know what telling you would matter. But for now, I won't." Harry yawned. It was time to get some sleep.

Dorm beds. No privacy. Oh, joy. Harry hoped he was tired enough that it wouldn't matter.

Later, lying in his bed, he could hear the snores of his roommates. It wasn't enough to distract him from what he was missing. He reached across the expanse of his sheet without thinking and found only cold cotton. This would take some getting used to.

Thinking about his lover aroused him. Too quickly. Harry sighed. His body was fifteen. He could ignore the call, insistent though it was. But why bother? He needed to sleep and he wasn't going to get any until he dealt with the problem.

He pulled the drapes to his bed closed. Drawing his wand, he cast a Silencing Charm. Fortunately, his magic came easily to him. Another wave of his wand, and he was naked. After everything, he didn't have the heart to draw it out. He came quickly, not allowing himself to think of anything besides release. If he started to think about what he'd lost, he'd be hysterical. And really, he had too much to do to allow histrionics. Later, maybe, when he'd finished what he'd set out to do.

A hand reaching for him, trying to shake him awake had Harry on top of his attacker with his wand to his throat before he had any time to think about it. By the time he was completely aware, he was sitting naked on top of Ron, feeling like a total prat.

"Oi, Harry. Since when do you sleep starkers?" Ron asked before he thought better of it. Then he looked quite sheepish as the memory of last night came clear in his eyes.

Harry stood up, wondering if he should act embarrassed. No, he didn't think it would matter one way or another. They'd all forget by the time they saw him again next year.

"Sorry. Nightmare," he said. One that lasted for too many years of war. He pulled his dressing gown from his trunk. "Need a bath."

The other boys nodded. Harry hoped they would be gone by the time he got back. None of them had survived the attack on Hogwarts in their seventh year. Only Ron and Hermione had survived in Gryffindor. And Draco and a few other Slytherins who weren't there had survived for their whole year.

"Are you okay, mate? You're staring at Neville like you've seen a ghost," Ron whispered.

"Don't you need to pack?" Neville looked at him and then his trunk, as Harry started to move towards the bath.

"I will when I get back. Why don't you guys go down to breakfast without me?" Harry suggested.

As soon as they had all left, Ron turned to him and said, "This is hard for you, isn't it?"

That didn't even begin to cover what Harry was feeling. Too many what ifs. Too much to think about. "It's only until noon. It will be fine. You'd best get going, too."

After a long morning, the students' carriages eventually left, heading towards the train station in Hogsmeade. Harry heaved a sigh of relief as he rode the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Snape and McGonagall were already there.

"I take it we are to continue this farce," Snape said as soon as he saw Harry. "Remember your place, boy."

As if he were likely to forget it, dressed as he was in his school uniform. Harry could have put on the clothes he'd had from the Dursleys, but he'd rather wear rags. One more thing he needed to take care of as soon as possible.

"You know," Harry said, refusing to let Snape's bad temper get to him, "you'd think you'd be in a better mood with the chattering little buggers gone."

"You aren't gone. And for peace to reign supreme, all of the students need to be gone." Snape glared in his direction.

"Ouch." Harry laughed. "I know what you mean about peace, though. I only had to spend the morning with them. I can't imagine trying to spend a lot of time listening to that."

Harry shuddered at that. He'd have to think of something, because being a sixth year was not something he wanted to repeat. It had been too horrible the first time. Now wasn't the time to worry about it. "No, thanks. I think I'd just as soon skip the whole thing."

"Just how do you plan to avoid it, Mr Potter? As Professor Snape pointed out, you've got two more years of school." McGonagall looked like she was trying not to smile.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet." It was going to be a problem. Maybe he'd get lucky and things would work themselves out before he had to worry about it. Yeah, not likely.

"I've had so much time to think about this, haven't I? Ignored it all in favor of sleep."

"I might. But in all likelihood, I won't," Harry snapped, forgetting for a moment that he wanted to be polite. And he knew better, especially with Snape.

"You are as rude as you ever were. Pity the years didn't teach you any manners at all," Snape said through his gritted teeth, his anger clearly on a boil.

Harry knew better than to bait someone who might explode. All things considered, he was going to need Snape on his side. Harry inclined his head. "Forgive me, sir. I was joking. I meant no disrespect." The sincerity in his voice must have carried, because Snape, and McGonagall as well, looked shocked to their toes.

McGonagall recovered quickly and cleared her throat. "I think we should check on the heartstone. Not that I think Mr Potter is wrong --" McGonagall looked pointedly at Dumbledore, who was still shifting papers on his desk.

Dumbledore looked up as if he could feel their eyes on him. "Fine. Fine. We can take the north stairway all the way down to the chamber."

"No. It was destroyed during the war." Along with so many other things that were precious to him.

"You have it in this time, don't you, Potter?" Snape's look was expectant. And harsh. He wanted the map.

"I haven't checked yet. I'm sure I must. I remember having it at the end of fifth year." Harry had no intention of letting Snape get his hands on it. At least, not anytime soon.

"Let's go," Dumbledore said impatiently, cutting off whatever else Snape had planned to say. He stood and the door to his office opened.

Snape looked down at the pulsating heartstone. Even cracked, it was a remarkable piece of magical work. The power that radiated from it was impressive.

It also served as final proof that this Potter, whoever he was, was not the Potter Snape knew. Whatever else Potter might be, and Snape wasn't going to speculate on it, not without more observation. He already knew he wasn't going to like this one any better than he'd liked any of the other Potters he'd been forced to deal with in his life.

"What needs to be done to fix it?" Minerva stared at it, her face showed her trepidation.

"What I said before. I can fix the crack, but we'll need to bring the wards down completely to do it."

"Which isn't the problem," Albus said. "The difficulty comes with replacing them."

It would take a tremendous amount of power to fix the stone and then secure the new wards. Someone with much more power than he, himself, could bring to bear. While he was sure that this Potter had the power, he was still an unknown. He could also destroy Hogwarts.

"Not only that, but we'll lose all the protections that each of the previous headmasters and headmistresses have woven into the wards for the last hundred years," Albus said, regretfully.

"Is it worth it? To do this now will mean that the school will be weakened. Perhaps it might be better to wait. The heartstone has held so far." That was wishful thinking. He could easily envision what an attack by the Dark Lord would do to the wards.

Even if he were right, Snape hated that attitude in Potter. That bloody Gryffindor pride that said he was always right. "So you say."

"And tell me again why we should listen to you? You might be leading us into a trap." Not that he actually believed that anymore.

"I think you know that whatever I am, I'm on the side of the Light. That I mean you and this school no harm."

"I don't think we have any choice but to do as Mr Potter has suggested. The crack is apparent." Minerva's tone was firm.

Sighing, Albus looked tired, care-worn. "I agree with Minerva. We must do this, as soon as possible."

As much as it went against his better judgment to believe in this Potter -- or any Potter for that matter -- they didn't have a great deal of choice. "When did you wish to do this? I'd like to return to my home as --"

"You might want to rethink that," Potter said. "Voldemort is going to ask Peter Pettigrew to spend the summer with you. He doesn't actually trust you."

Bloody Hell. He'd been looking forward to a few weeks peace and quiet. He needed to be alone for a while, to recharge for next year. "Do you think I'd allow that creature into my home? You're deluded."

Even as he said it, he knew with dreadful certainty that if the Dark Lord insisted, he'd have little choice.

"I think we should discontinue this discussion for the moment. You can work out your summer arrangements once the heartstone is repaired." Albus leaned against one of the pillars with an almost studied casualness. Snape wanted to ask him what was wrong, but daren't do it in front of everyone.

"We'll need the four corners that I mentioned last night. Professors Snape and McGonagall can stand as north and south. But we'll need to find east and west."

That illustrated quite clearly the grimness of the circumstances at that time. Granger made sense. "At eighteen or even twenty, I doubt Weasley would have been strong enough."

"He wasn't. It knocked him on his arse for a week. I don't think he could do it now, at all. It would probably kill him. I think Hermione could do it. She's very gifted magically. But she's young."

Minerva nodded. "I agree Miss Granger has the raw power and the potential to add to the wards as she gets older."

As much as he hated that know-it-all, he had to agree with their assessment. "Fine. Who else?"

"Perhaps Remus Lupin?" Albus ignored the fact that Snape had turned down that suggestion last night when they'd talked about it.

"Not Lupin." Snape hated having to be in his presence at all. And to be tied to him by the wards for the school was unthinkable. Unfortunately, everyone else's expressions said they weren't going to listen to him.

"I think Remus might be a good idea. I'll Floo to Grimmauld Place and talk to him." Potter's agreeing with them put the final approval on it. Though, surprisingly, he didn't sound like he was looking forward to that conversation.

"Shall we set a tentative time for the end of the week?" Albus closed up the vault where the heartstone lay.

"I'll contact Miss Granger's parents and secure their permission for her to return to school. Perhaps we can connect their fireplace to the Floo Network for the trip." Minerva started back for the stairs.

"I'd like to talk to Remus this afternoon," Potter said as they walked back. "Where shall I be staying?"

"What's wrong with the dorm?" Special accommodations for Potter would be a nuisance, given the dire circumstances they found themselves in. He smirked to himself, thinking of an adult Potter having to live in the dorms.

"I'd rather not trudge up there. Besides there are visitor quarters on the second floor that are much better. Only until I secure a place to stay."

"And how will you do that, Mr Potter?" Something in Minerva's tone stopped Potter.

"Oh. I see what you mean. I'll need one of you to secure it for me, won't I?" Potter sighed.

"Well, I actually have quite a bit. My parents left me a tidy sum. And I inherited, or rather am going to inherit the Black estate."

Snape sucked in a breath. Even with the downturn of their circumstances in recent years, the Black estate was one of the richest in the Wizarding world. If he hadn't already hated Potter as much as he possibly could, he'd hate him more, now.

"I'm sure we can arrange something for you," Minerva said. And Snape had no doubt she'd help him with whatever he wanted.

Snape had no intention of doing more than he absolutely had to do. With a bit of luck, he'd get all of this over with by the end of the week, and then retire to Spinner's End for a short holiday.

Harry tumbled out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place and sat there for a moment. No matter how many times he'd Floo'd in his life, he never managed to do it gracefully. He'd always suspected that a wizard needed to learn that at a young age to get it right, and twelve just wasn't young enough.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Remus came into the room, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

"Rem...Professor Lupin," Harry said, remembering at the last minute that this Harry still called him by the honorific. He stood, dusting himself off. "I need to talk to you about something important."

Harry supposed he had good cause, no doubt remembering how he'd orchestrated the incident at the Ministry. "Since I used his Floo, I'd say he did."

"What did you want to talk about?" There was ever so slight a reluctance in Remus' voice. He probably thought that Harry wanted to talk about Sirius.

"There are a couple of things, actually. Why don't we sit down?" Harry moved towards the sofa, but Remus stood looking at him, his head tilted.

"Last night, at the leaving feast, Professor Dumbledore and Minister Fudge brought out a mirror that showed a glimpse of the future. It was supposed to show a happy moment."

"Did you see something that disturbed you? The mirror doesn't show a certain future. Only what is likely." Remus' voice was soothing, relieved.

Harry took a breath and squared his shoulders. "In a way. I'm not sure how to say this so that you'll one, not think I'm mad, and two, believe me. The mirror took me in and kept me for about twenty minutes. I lived another life in that time."

Remus looked at him, disbelief written plainly on his face. "Have you spoken to Professor Dumbledore about this?"

"Yes. He was there when I went into the mirror. And that's where the second part of the reason I'm here comes in. When I was living that other life, the one that I think of as my own --"

"Did you really tell Professor Dumbledore about this?" Remus asked again and his tone was a bit sharper. The teacher tone. Demanding an honest answer.

In another place and time, Harry was sure that his fifteen year old self would have responded to it. Now, he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yes. I did. I lived twenty years in that other life. My life. But I have fairly good knowledge of what is going to happen in this time."

"If that's true --" and clearly Remus thought that it wasn't, "you shouldn't tell anyone. You don't want to change things --"

"Actually I do. And I have. The heartstone that anchors the wards at Hogwarts is cracked. Tom Riddle put the crack there when he was a student."

"I didn't know there was a heartstone anchoring the wards," Remus said, thickly.

Oh. Harry hadn't considered that when he'd started talking. "I guess I expect everyone to know these things since in my time, everyone did." He went on to explain just how the wards were anchored to the heartstone. "The crack needs to be repaired and the wards then reset. I want you to stand as one of the anchors for the wards."

Remus looked a bit sick and still pretty unsure of Harry. He tilted his head. "Are you sure that it's cracked?"

"Professor Dumbledore believed you?" Surprisingly, Remus still sounded as if he didn't.

He would have thought that Remus of all people could look past the way he looked to hear what he was saying. "After he saw the crack in the heartstone, it was a little hard to doubt me."

"I know. Like my fifteen year old self. I'm not fifteen though." Harry knew he shouldn't be so frustrated with people's disbelief. People saw what they wanted to see. And unless you gave them something else to believe, then they kept seeing it.

"Perhaps I can prove it." Though Harry was loath to show off, he could probably come up with something.

"WHERE IS THAT FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR OF A SON OF MINE?" a screeching voice asked.

"I wish I could. She goes off all the time now. She won't believe me that Sirius is gone." Remus' voice cracked. "Not that I blame her."

"Of course I do. But for me, it's been a long time. I've dealt with it. And far too many other deaths as well."

That didn't sit well with Remus, but before he could say anything more, Mrs. Black's portrait screamed again.

"I wish there was something we could do about her." Remus sounded like he was a bit more stressed than he'd let on.

"Actually, I think I can help you there." When he'd wanted to sell Grimmauld Place, Harry had dealt with the portrait in his time. He went out into the hall, wincing as her invective became louder and uglier.

Harry raised his wand and she laughed at him. "TRY IT BOY. YOU'LL PAY FOR IT. THE MAGIC REFLECTS."

Harry didn't care. "Tabula Abeo." The canvas she was on went white and she disappeared.

"As I was saying, I lived through this before. In my timeline, Hermione researched what needed to be done to shut her up. The first spell cleaned all the Dark Magic that held her to her portrait. And the second cleared the paint off the canvas itself. We never did get the frame off the wall, though."

"That's...impressive." Remus was looking at him as if he had two heads. "You're not Harry Potter, are you?"

"I'm not your Harry Potter. I'm not fifteen and I'm not a student at Hogwarts. But I am Harry Potter. Really." Harry knew he was going to have to say that over and over to everyone he ever knew in this timeline. It could take years.

Remus turned around and went back into the sitting room. Harry followed, watching as Remus poured himself a drink.

"Me, too. If you please." Harry wanted to laugh at Remus' look, but he did fix Harry the drink.

"Merlin, you're the same age as I am." He paused, probably trying to digest that bit of information. "What happened? Did You-Know...Voldemort win?"

"In my timeline, we worked for a long time to finally win our peace. But it came at a desperately high price."

Remus closed his eyes, his expression hurt, tired, some other emotions that Harry didn't recognize. "Tell me about the wards. I assume we'll fix them soon. Who are the other anchors?"

"She is a good choice. A trustworthy and available choice. She has the magical strength to do it. And her age is a plus, for the future."

"No more than I do. But I know she'll want to help. Even with my knowledge of the future, we're still going to need her research skills and the spells and charms she's going to develop. But maybe this time, I can protect her better."

"She and Ron, and I, were all tainted by the Dark Magic that we encountered. Me most of all." A sliver of darkness lived in him, pulsating, wanting to get out, to spread. He kept it locked away, but that didn't mean it was dormant.

"Oh, it's there. I've killed. It leaves a stain on your soul no matter what you do to cleanse it. I've done things I wished I hadn't. It all takes a toll."

"Thank you. I got the impression at lunch that you wanted to talk about the Horcruxes?" Dumbledore hadn't actually said anything overt, but he could convey a thought without saying a word. Harry had always admired that about him. He took a seat by the fire.

What he'd like was a drink, but he wasn't going to ask for that. He suspected Dumbledore didn't quite see him as an adult yet. After he fixed the heartstone tomorrow, it would be a lot easier. "Tea would be very nice, thank you."

"I'm not sure the Horcruxes will be the same in this timeline. Or even that there will be seven rather than six."

"I have to admit I'm quite curious about the seventh one." Dumbledore took a sip of his own tea. "I can't imagine how he split his soul into eight pieces. Seven is the most that was supposed to be possible for someone to create and remain alive."

"That's what I had heard as well. Not that Voldemort is much more than partially alive. Or more than partially human, for that matter."

"I tried to kill him with Avada Kedavra and he didn't die." It had been humiliating to his nineteen year old self. "He laughed at me and Apparated away. He later bragged to Snape -- who was with him at the time -- that he'd made another Horcrux when he'd murdered Amelia Bones."

Harry stood up, but there was no place for him to go. "You must contact her immediately and tell her to get out of London."

"Yes. Yes. That's an excellent idea." Dumbledore knelt by the fire, throwing down some Floo powder, he stuck his head into the flames. "Amelia, dear. It's Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's body sagged. "Oh. Yes. I see. Thank you." When he sat up, his face was ashen. "She's dead. I spoke with Kingsley Shacklebolt. It happened last night."

"The MLE kept it quiet so that they could investigate. He said the murder was gruesome. And that the evidence suggests she was killed by Voldemort himself."

"Hindsight is always clear, dear boy. But you didn't know. We'll need as much information as you can give us. Do you know what the Horcruxes are?"

"The heartstone is cracked, just as you said. I suspect even if things aren't exactly the same, they will be close enough to help our cause."

"I hope so. They were: Tom Riddle's diary, Marvolo Gaunt's ring, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Salazar Slytherin's locket, the service award Tom Riddle got, Rowena Ravenclaw's wand, and Godric Gryffindor's cloak pin.

"I'll write down what I know and give it to you. One or two are more tricky than the rest, but most of them are hidden in plain sight."

"The best hiding places are generally that way. And thank you for the information. And your help tomorrow."

McGonagall, Dumbledore, Remus and Snape were all there, waiting for them when Harry led Hermione into the Chamber.

"Where have you been? We've been waiting for you." Snape's scowl made Hermione wince, but Harry was getting used to it.

Harry wasn't going to rise to the bait. They had more important things to do than argue. He moved over to the uncovered stone. "Why don't we get started? Professor Dumbledore, can you take the wards down."

Dumbledore nodded, drawing his wand and pointing it at the stone. He mumbled a few phrases that Harry didn't quite catch and the heartstone's bright white glow dimmed noticeably. It was still pulsing, but the crack was dark and gaping.

Harry raised his wand and concentrated. It wasn't that hard to close the fissure, but it took precise use of his magic. He chanted softly, drawing power from the castle and the earth and the air. The crack closed slowly, much more slowly than Harry would have liked. It was deeper in this time than he'd remembered from his own.

Finally, the crack was closed, the stone pulsated, and the light emanating was brighter.

"That is what we're here for, isn't it, Lupin? Or did you just come down for the scenery?" Snape's tone was nasty, cold.

"Yes, I did," Snape said, glaring at McGonagall and then turned back to Hermione.

She met his stare, but Harry could see it was an effort for her to hold it. She was strong-willed, though, and managed.

"Yes. Why don't we continue?" Dumbledore said, tiredly. It seemed that taking the wards down had exhausted him.

Using chalk, Harry drew a box about five feet across and around the heartstone. "Each of you take a point. Professor Snape and McGonagall, across from each other, here. Rem...Professor Lupin --"

"Thanks. Remus." Harry smiled at him. "You and Hermione, here and here." He pointed to the east and west corners of the box.

"Do you even know if these corners are pointed in the correct direction?" Snape asked nastily.

"Of course he does, Professor. Can't you feel the directions?" Hermione asked as if everyone could feel magical directions.

"I can." Snape looked down his nose at her. "Whether or not Potter can is another story. I'm merely making sure he's not making a mistake."

"Wouldn't want me to make a mistake, now would we?" Harry said, holding back a smile at how childish Snape was being. As bad as what he'd just accused Hermione of, if not worse.

"Sorry, sir. I meant no offense." Harry said it sincerely. No matter how childish Snape might act, there was a fine line beyond which Harry would not go.

"Each of you needs to create the ward for your direction and then cast it on the stone. As you do, I'll secure it." Harry watched as each of them nodded. "First North. Professor Snape?"

Snape created the ward, and infused it with charms for protection and defense. He wrapped it around the heartstone with delicate care, more so than most people would have believed him capable. It didn't surprise Harry. Nor, Harry noticed, either McGonagall or Remus.

Harry secured the ward and then turned to McGonagall. She created her ward, adding strength and fault tolerances. When she was done, Harry secured that one, too. The heartstone glowed much brighter now.

Remus went next. His ward also added strength and defense. Hermione's ward was nearly as strong as Snape's. Though it lacked his delicate expertise, it made up for it in raw power. She sagged a bit as she wrapped it around the stone.

Harry bound each ward separately and then all together. The stone glowed brightly, clear white light filling the chamber.

Harry's heart hammered, painfully and he looked away. He'd forgotten what Snape looked like when he smiled.

"Thank you, sir." Harry could not help but be pleased. He had every reason to believe that he'd be able to wield his magic as easily as he'd always done, but until he'd actually done it, there was the chance, slight though it might be, that he would fail.

"Yes. That was brilliant." Hermione smiled at him, her shoulders dropping, and her eyes half closed with exhaustion. "I am quite hungry."

"I am too. And everyone else should be as well," McGonagall said. "Let's go up to lunch."

"It's well past lunch time, my dear," Dumbledore said, he held his hand out for them to precede him out of the chamber.

Snape was quiet, but as he passed Harry to go up the stairs, he whispered, "Well done."

It was quiet enough that Harry could have believed he imagined it. Except that Remus was smiling, too. "He's right. Very well done."

After lunch, and seeing Hermione Floo home, Harry thought about taking a nap, but seeing Dumbledore took precedence.

"Professor?" Harry said as he came into the office, carrying the parchment with all the Horcrux locations, or at least the ones he was certain of. "May I speak to you?"

"Come in, my boy. What can I do for you?" Dumbledore was sitting in one of the big chairs by the fire. And unfortunately, Snape was with him.

Harry wasn't up to dealing with Snape right now. "I can come back, if you're busy."

"I'm not. We were just discussing your situation." Dumbledore's tone was surprisingly pleasant.

"Actually, I was going to ask you about that. And give you this." He handed Dumbledore the list. "There is still a lot of research that needs to be done to actually find some of them."

"As always, you've created all manner of problems for us," Snape said, but his normal sneer was slightly less harsh.

"I know. I'm just so thoughtless, showing up uninvited, giving you information you need," Harry quipped, with a smile. "I was thinking that maybe I could have another look at the mirror."

"Why?" Dumbledore clearly didn't think that was a good idea. Why though? What could the mirror do to him now? Except take him home.

"Now that I've changed things, given you the information you need to make sure it doesn't happen the way it did in my time, maybe it can send me home."

"Why not?" Harry looked at him, wishing he could see the man as he was now without the filter of who he'd become overlaying it.

"You've no doubt changed your timeline enough that you can't slip back into it. In all likelihood, you've destroyed it."

Harry's stomach twisted. That made far too much sense. "I'd like to try anyway."

"I suspect there is more for you to do here," Dumbledore said, glancing at the list in his hand.

Harry thought so, too. But if there was a chance he could go home, then he'd take it. "Where is the mirror? Did you send it back to the Department of Mysteries?"

Standing before the mirror, Harry sent a silent prayer that it would work. He touched his wand to it, and felt...nothing. Opening his eyes, he saw himself reflected and then it clouded and he saw Snape standing with him. Not quite his Snape, nor the Snape from this time, either.

Disturbed by the image, he turned around. Snape was behind him, not quite in the position he'd been in the mirror, but the glass was distorted. He looked into the mirror again, and it was simply a reflection of himself and Snape.

"Bloody Hell," he snarled at the mirror. Frustration washed through him. He wanted to go home. Without thinking, he flung a bolt of angry magic at the blackboard across the room. It hit and sparkled. There was some satisfaction in watching it start to melt.

"Temper, temper, Potter." Snape's tone wasn't quite as contemptuous as normal, probably startled by the unbecoming display.

Feeling foolish, Harry cast a clean up spell, restoring the blackboard to its former state. He knew better than to let go of his temper.

"Pity you're still here." Snape looked disappointed, but under it, Harry could almost see the speculation about his power. He hated when he reminded anyone of how powerful he was. Although, Snape could hardly have missed it, given the demonstration he'd put on that morning.

"Getting rid of me would only bring my fifteen year old self back. I can't see how that would make you any happier. And I can help you avoid some of the mess that's coming this year."

"Such as?" The level of curiosity in Snape's voice was higher than it had been since Harry had come here.

Harry didn't want to do this in an empty classroom. The truth was he didn't want to discuss it at all. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. He moved away from the mirror. "This is better done over a drink. You're not going to like what I'm going to say."

"Adult or no, you're still Harry Potter, and I don't like you. I'm not drinking with you. Tell me what you have to say, and be done with it." Snape folded his arms over his chest.

Snape was such a bastard sometimes. That never changed. Except that in his time there were other compensations and Snape was rarely a bastard to him anymore. "Very soon, Professor Dumbledore is going to go after Gaunt's ring, which is one of the Horcruxes. He destroys it, but not before it poisons him."

"If you know this with any certainty, why have you not spoken before?" Snape asked, his face going more pale than it already was.

Much to Harry's annoyance, Snape was right. "When exactly have I had the time? Why don't we try and work together to help him? In my time, Hermione was able to find a way to reverse some of the magical taint of Dark Magic with a White Spell. I don't think she has time to do it now. As it was, you managed to keep him alive with several potions after he'd been cursed." Perhaps he should start Hermione working on the spell now. Actually, that would make a good summer project for her.

Snape turned to him. "Do you know what the curse is? I can have whatever is necessary on hand."

"No. I'm sorry. By the time I saw Dumbledore again, he had been cursed already." Harry would never forget the sight of Dumbledore's blackened hand when he came to the Dursleys to get him.

"About two years. But she was hampered by the fact she'd been tainted herself. It's hard to wield pure White Magic if you're not pure yourself. I couldn't do it at all."

"It's hardly something I can lie about. And I still won't be able to do it." Harry looked at Snape, and wondered, "What about you?"

Snape's expression was somewhere between surprised and appalled. "What about me? I'm as tainted with the Dark as any Death Eater."

"Then, you'll have the same problems I do. I suppose we'll let Hermione do it. Maybe Remus can supervise her."

"The werewolf? Surely he's tainted by the Lycanthropy?" Snape said, his tone lacking the bitter distaste it usually had.

"White Magic works on intent. It doesn't care what you are as long as you haven't killed or had deliberate contact with Dark Magic. He can supervise Hermione while she works. Maybe McGonagall can help too."

"Possibly. I shall not be of any help. You were going to tell me what is going to happen this summer."

"I was, wasn't I?" Harry said, putting the sheet back over the mirror. There was a part of him that wanted to melt something else, but he kept that part carefully under control. He'd deal with his grief later. "I need a drink. Let's go into Hogsmeade."

"Are you insane? You can't leave the school like that. Aside from everything else, it's not safe. What if we're seen together? No matter how old you get, you still never think about the consequences!"

"I suppose you're right." Fighting a blush at his own stupidity, Harry nodded once in concession. The lack of free movement was going to get annoying very quickly. He walked out of the room.

Silently, Snape followed him back to the Great Hall. Harry sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table and smirked as Snape sat down across from him.

"Dobby is here." Dobby popped into being. "What can Dobby get for --" The elf's ears went up. "Who is you? You is looking like Harry Potter, but you is not him." Dobby backed away, his liquid eyes wide with fear.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Snape said, "Dobby. It is Harry Potter."

"No! No! He is not being Harry Potter." Dobby's tone had become a screech. Fear radiated off him in waves.

"No. You is not. Harry Potter's magic is...less. You is looking like him, but you is not feeling like him."

"I'm...well, from the future I guess. But I am him. Or rather, he is me. Can't you sense me, beyond the magic?" Harry continued to project calm, hoping Dobby would start thinking clearly.

Dobby stopped and stared at him and then sighed. "You is Harry Potter. But you is not my Harry Potter."

"Can you get me a bottle of Ogden's finest?" Right now, Harry's nerves were raw and he needed something to relax him enough that the muscles in his back and neck would loosen.

"Students is not allowed to have spirits." Dobby's stance and expression showed his uncertainty.

Harry wanted to reassure him, but what could he say that wouldn't sound mad? "I'm not a student, anymore. I'm a grown-up now. It will be all right."

"Dobby is understanding. Dobby is bringing Harry Potter spirits." Dobby popped out and then back in again with a bottle and two glasses.

"Thank you," Harry said as Dobby popped out again. He poured a finger-full in each glass. "Cheers."

Snape tipped his glass in salute. "Now, if you please, I'd like to know what you so obviously don't want to tell me."

"I gathered as much. There's little chance I'd ever like anything you have to say." Snape took another sip and glared at him over the rim of his glass.

Harry gave him a sad smile. "Oh, I don't know. Would it surprise you to know we got to be friends after Voldemort's death?"

"That I survived at all comes as a great shock." Clearly, so was the idea that there could be anything other than enmity between them.

"As I mentioned before, Voldemort had, or will have, Pettigrew staying with you this summer."

"He wasn't pleased when I told him I'd be staying on a few weeks this summer and that it had something to do with you also staying on." Snape's tone said that was an understatement.

"Not only that, Bellatrix and Narcissa will come to see you, and wring an Unbreakable Vow out of you, that if Draco can't do it, you will."

"That's absurd. I wouldn't do that." But there was ever so slight a note of doubt in Snape's voice.

"From what I understand," only because Snape had told him, "you didn't know what you were swearing to. And that Narcissa asked you was good enough for you."

Harry played one of the cards he was holding. "Because you've had a crush on her since you were sixteen or so."

Snape's eyes narrowed and his thin lips flattened. "And how exactly would you know this?"

"Well, it might have been that you told me." Harry gave him a little grin that probably seemed far too self-satisfied, but it was true.

That was the gist of it, wasn't it? "It wasn't in this lifetime. I'd avoid making any Unbreakable Vows, if I were you."

"I am reasonably certain that whatever else he is, Draco Malfoy is not a killer. Are you going to tell me how I got out of killing Dumbledore?" There was more hope than belief in Snape's tone. It was clear that he wanted it to be true.

For one second, Snape closed his eyes and looked defeated beyond words. Then he put his glass carefully on the table. He stood and walked away.

Harry jumped, standing up, and drew his wand without thinking. It took a second for the adrenalin to die away. Fighting a blush, he took another breath and mumbled, "Sorry," as he put it away.

"Those are nicely sharpened reflexes, Mr Potter." McGonagall sat down, helping herself to some of the Ogden's.

"How much did you hear?" Harry asked, half-hoping that he wasn't going to have to get into it all now.

He should have known better. She always did have sharp hearing. "You didn't take it as well when it happened. At least at first."

She tipped her glass towards him in salute. "I expect not. But I know that he would not have done that without a good reason. No, more than that, without Albus forcing him."

Harry looked down at his drink. He didn't want to get pissed. "With me? After we found the Horcruxes and I killed Voldemort, Hermione, Ron and I sat our N.E.W.T.s. I scored well enough that I was allowed to start my Auror training. I also took over as head of the Order of the Phoenix. Ron and Hermione worked with me. With you? You took over as Headmistress the year after Dumbledore died. You were at an Order meeting when the attack came."

"Yeah. It took two years for all the damage to be repaired and for Hogwarts to open again." The ache in Harry's chest never completely faded, even after all the years that had passed. "At first, we all go on mostly out of a sense of duty, I think, more than anything else. It's how Lucius Malfoy got his hold on so much power. People were devastated. They weren't paying attention."

"Stays with Voldemort until his death. When he's freed from the Dark Mark, he came back to work with us, bringing Draco with him."

That had surprised everyone at the time, too. "Yes. He was quite loyal to Professor Snape."

"There was a power vacuum. The Ministry slowly crumbled. There were pockets of people who managed to get things done, but mostly nothing happened. The skirmishes continued, and Lucius tried to take over. He almost succeeded, but couldn't quite win enough of a following of the people he needed. It dragged on for years until Lucius was finally killed and the Death Eaters disbanded."

"I think I've changed things. The wards won't fall when Voldemort attacks. I hope Snape won't make that Unbreakable Vow. Or at least, he'll know the consequences if he does. Maybe Dumbledore will survive."

"And what were the consequences for Severus personally?" It sounded as if she had a good idea of what would happen to Snape.

"As you might guess, he never forgave himself. And spending three years living with the Death Eaters didn't do him any good either. I know for a fact that both of those things haunted him his whole life."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to block the memories of Snape's screams as nightmares plagued him night after night. Even Ron, who'd clung to his hatred of Snape longer than the rest of them, had felt some pity for how haunted Snape had been by what he'd been forced to do.

"And you knew him quite well, didn't you?" McGonagall asked softly, her gaze meeting his.

Something in her tone made Harry wary. He didn't care for the knowing look in her eyes. "What are you asking me?"

"I'm asking you how close you were to Severus?" She certainly didn't mince words, did she?

"He and I are...were friends." Harry was quite pleased that he'd managed to keep his voice perfectly level. It appalled him that she could still make him feel like a recalcitrant little boy at thirty-five.

But it was clear she'd seen something, and Harry wondered what he'd let slip. He hadn't meant to mention his relationship with Snape at all. It was gone. Like everything else in his life. Resolutely, he took a deep breath. If he spent too much time dwelling on the past, he'd fall apart. "I don't wish to talk about it, all right?"

"Quite all right." Her tone held a lot of sympathy. "But if you'd like to, at some point later, you know where to find me."

"Thanks. I might." Or might not. It was more than kind of her to offer. "Is that why you've been the one to accept this, me, so easily?"

"I know that you would never have looked at him as you do now -- especially when you think no one else is looking -- when you were fifteen."

Harry snorted. "I had wondered about that. I mean, why you were the easiest to convince. You've treated me like an adult since I got here."

"After years of dealing with all sorts of children, it's fairly easy to recognize an adult when I see one."

McGonagall chuckled. "I think everyone, including Miss Granger, treats you differently now. You act differently, so it's only to be expected." She put her glass down. "I'm going for a nap before dinner."

Harry asked Snape and McGonagall to meet him in Dumbledore's office after supper.

"Base of operations? What nonsense are you talking about, Potter?" Snape's tone was incredulous.

"Severus --" McGonagall started to say. She was ready to defend Harry, which pleased him, even as it wasn't necessary.

"It's okay." Harry wondered if he were going to fight a battle every time he saw Snape. Oh, this was Snape and in all likelihood he would have to put up with that and a lot of other crap as well. "I'm talking about looking for the Horcruxes that we'll need to destroy before we can kill Voldemort."

"I'm aware of that." Snape looked at him, his whole attitude disdainful, nearly affronted, though Harry couldn't understand why. He was probably still upset about Dumbledore and taking it out on the messenger.

"What did you have in mind, my boy?" Dumbledore said. "Do you know what you'd like to do?"

"I'd like to rent a house for the summer. Someplace I can have Hermione and Remus work on the White Magic spell. I'd like to ask Ron as well."

"Why would you want Weasley?" Snape asked, his disdain of Ron clear. "The boy is nothing special."

"Ron is a master strategist." Or he was by the time he was twenty. "He might not be now, but I won't leave him out. He has the potential and I want to see it realized." And without Ron's planning and tactics, they would not have been able to hold off Lucius Malfoy and the Death Eaters for as long as they had.

"Fine sentiments. But he's young and untrained. It's possible he could be hurt in other ways," McGonagall said.

He met her disapproving glare with a stubborn look of his own. "I can watch over them. Keep them close. Out of trouble. We need Hermione." There was no arguing with that. At sixteen or at twenty, she was as brilliant a witch as had ever lived. They weren't going to be able to do this without her.

Telling him that his ire was not appreciated would only serve to give Snape more impetus to be unpleasant. Sometimes, dealing with Snape was like dealing with a spoilt child. "Or me, but this is how I want to handle things."

"And what makes you think that we'll simply follow along with your plans? You might be in charge in your time, but here, Albus is still head of the Order." Snape's expression was spiteful.

Harry conceded the point, by inclining his head towards Dumbledore. "Professor?"

"Why don't we hear what Harry has to say?" Dumbledore suggested, his eyes briefly twinkling with some inner amusement. Harry wondered if it were just their squabbling or something else.

"If you're right. If what you know is actually our future. If it's not, then you could bugger up our entire world, worse than your own was."

"So far, I've been correct. Admittedly, that can and probably will change as the future changes. But that's why we need Ron. He's part of this."

"I want to know everything, in detail," Snape said, after several moments of silence.

"This summer, as I've said, Professor Dumbledore finds Gaunt's ring and is cursed by it. I think, I hope, that Hermione can work out a White Spell to wash some of the Dark Magic out of it. The spell also does the same thing with many other Dark curses." Nothing could wash the Dark completely out of what had been tainted with it.

"I never knew. When Hermione, Ron and I went after Helga's cup, Hermione's hand was cursed. She was able to work a spell that slowed the progress -- much like Professor Snape was able to do with you, with what happened, will happen, to your hand. Unfortunately, even though she eventually found a way to undo much of the curse itself, the original damage could not be undone. She never regained complete use of her hand."

"Dark curses are notoriously hard to reverse and impossible to completely recover from." Dumbledore rubbed his own hand.

"You should let me or Professor Snape accompany you when you go after the ring." Harry thought he should go himself, but he doubted that Dumbledore would agree to that.

"No. Aside from the fact that I'm not willing to risk either of you at this point, it's actually a one person job. The ring is in Guant's vault. It's a very small space and only one person can fit into it. I've also studied the wards around the location, and they aren't that complicated, but they will require concentration." Dumbledore was adamant.

"No. Severus, I need you to be here. I'm convinced I can get in and out without being cursed. Especially since I know that I'll need to be that much more careful."

"Minerva, I'm quite capable of dealing with this. It really isn't that complicated. I'd ask for help if I believed I needed it." Dumbledore smiled faintly at her.

"You must be careful, Professor. The Order needs you." Despite Dumbledore's confidence, Harry did not have a good feeling about him doing this on his own. He wished he knew what the old man was thinking. "Are you sure you don't want us to research --"

"Harry, I've done all the necessary research that is possible. You will have to trust that I do know what I am doing."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked quite cross and then he sighed. "Even if one of you were to come with me, you'd have to wait outside while I retrieved the ring. Now, I plan to go tomorrow and get this done. Shall we move on?" Dumbledore clearly didn't want to argue about it anymore.

"Why not give Miss Granger some time to come up with something that could help you, if the worst happens," McGonagall suggested.

"For one thing, I'm hoping that it won't. For a second, I don't think she's going to have enough time to do everything that needs to be done," Dumbledore said. "There are many Horcruxes to find. Let's begin with this one."

Both McGonagall and Snape looked as if they wanted to continue to argue with Dumbledore, but Harry knew there would be no chance of convincing him. He kept his mouth shut.

After a moment more, McGonagall turned to Harry. "You said you wanted to rent a house for the summer. What were you planning to use for funds?"

"Between what I inherited from my parents and what I should get from inheriting the Black estate, I think there should be enough. I'll need someone to help me retrieve it."

"I hope that both Minerva and Severus will be willing to help you with that," Dumbledore said, clearly glad to be off the topic of the ring.

"I know of several people you can contact about a place. Where were you thinking of?" McGonagall looked like she'd enjoy finding the house for them.

"When I was eighteen in my timeline, I bought a home in Leeds. I'd like to have that property when it comes on the market. For now, somewhere with a lot of space. I think we'll have several people there for the summer."

"Why don't we simply stay at Hogwarts? At least here there's someone to cook and clean," Snape said with an unfortunate whine.

Snape glared back at her. "Why yes, Minerva, I must be difficult. It's my nature."

"It is at that," McGonagall snorted. "Harry, Since Severus was already planning to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, I think he can take you to Gringotts."

If Snape were startled by the request, he hid it well, simply nodding. "Nine a.m., Potter. I'll leave without you if you're late."

At 8:55, Harry was waiting for Snape at the front gates. He'd taken care to be on time. Although sometimes Harry wanted to just watch the show Snape put on, today would not be the day for it. He needed Snape's cooperation to get several things done.

He'd slept poorly last night, tossing and turning, going over his plans. And his fifteen-year old body's hormones, which he could keep at bay during the day, had ambushed him again. He'd had to take care of the problem twice before he could settle down for the night. That was too annoying for words.

Snape arrived at 9:00 on the dot, dressed in all black. "Potter," Snape said, looking at him with disdain. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"

"Actually, no," Harry muttered, glancing at Snape and then stopping for a longer look.

As much as he would have preferred not to notice, Snape looked...not good, but appealing to Harry nonetheless.

That was the very last thing he needed to be thinking about right now, but his fifteen year old prick twitched and started to fill. He was appalled at how easily he became aroused. How did anyone in their teens ever get anything done?

"We'll walk down to Hogsmeade and Floo from the Three Broomsticks." Snape took off at a brisk walk, his long legs eating up the path to Hogsmeade.

Harry had to hurry to keep up with him, which served to take his mind off his other problem. "Whatever you want."

Yeah, and if he weren't, no doubt he'd hear about that, too. Wisely, Harry stayed silent.

Once in Diagon Alley, Harry followed Snape into Gringotts. The goblins were helpful in their abrupt way, and Harry was able to secure a draft for what he needed for renting a house for the summer.

Maybe Snape was annoyed at seeing all the money he had. On the other hand, Snape was always bad-tempered. Before they had gone more than a few steps, Harry put a hand on Snape's arm. "I'd like to buy some clothes, if you don't mind?"

"I do. That wasn't what we discussed." Snape glared at his hand until he removed it.

Harry wasn't in the mood to argue about it in the middle of the street. He needed clothes and had every intention of getting them. Being out of Snape's presence for a while would no doubt do the other problem some good as well. "You go back to school then, I'll be fine on my own."

"You're not yet sixteen. You are not fine on your own!" Snape sneered at him, and tugged on his arm when he would have stepped off the curb.

Oh. Harry needed to act like a fifteen-year old. "Please, Professor. I need clothes. Like you said, I can't wear my uniform every day. I want to get something else to wear. Please?"

For a second, Snape looked approving. "What's wrong with the things you had before?"

Harry adopted a petulant expression. "Aside from the fact that it's all several sizes too large --"

"It belonged to Dudley Dursley first." He didn't have to fake the anger at that.

"Alabessa's Clothes for Wizards, then." He was more likely to be able to get most of what he needed at her establishment. "But I'll need boots, too."

Madam Alabessa agreed to have Harry's purchase sent to Hogwarts only after glancing at Snape to get his okay. Harry found that infuriating and there wasn't a blessed thing he could do about it either.

"I need boots," Harry said, not caring if Snape wanted to go with him or not. He wanted this done as soon as he could manage it.

Surprisingly, Snape said nothing, following after him. He found two pairs of boots that he liked and arranged to have them sent on as well. "I'll need a robe or two." Harry knew he was pushing his luck, but he could not wear his student robe all summer. For one thing, it was wool.

"Can I buy you lunch for your troubles?" Harry asked as they left Madam Malkin's.

"Are you insane? If the Dark Lord were to find out --" Snape's whisper was ominous.

"He will have done already. We've been in four shops today, as well as the bank. I know you've got an excuse lined up. You could even tell him the truth. Dumbledore made you squire me around. And me being such a brat, insisted on having lunch out."

Like a serpent eyeing its prey, Snape smirked at him. "I don't need an excuse when I'm with you. You annoy me."

"The three B's?" Harry asked as a compromise. He wasn't ready to go back just yet.

Harry followed him into the Leaky Caldron. Once back in Hogsmeade, they did have lunch at the Three Broomsticks.

"You were kind of quiet most of the morning," Harry said tentatively, wondering if Snape would even talk to him.

"Nothing has happened yet. It's all still speculation." But clearly Snape was starting to believe it would happen. "We can't be sure. You only have a possible knowledge --" Snape stopped and looked around. "We should not be discussing this here."

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and Harry had to force himself not to look. "We should go."

"I think we should make plans to go after Helga's cup," Harry said after they had passed through the gates.

"Why would you think I'd go with you?" Oh, but it was clear that Snape knew Harry wasn't going to go without him.

"Well, it's you or the children. It's a two person job to get through the maze that's around it. And I don't intend to let them near it."

For a moment, Snape looked like he might object. "All right. What is necessary?"

"The cup is hidden in a maze. Rather like the one from the Triwizard Tournament, but not so innocuous as that. It took us thirty-six hours to get through it in my time, and Hermione's hand was cursed by the cup."

Harry opened the door to the Great Hall and nodded for Snape to precede him inside. "We'll need to take a few things with us, to fight the various...monsters in the maze. It's not complicated or difficult. But knowing what to have on hand will make it that much easier."

Dumbledore stumbled through the door at the other end. Harry raced over to him. "Professor?"

"I'm..." Dumbledore started to sag, and Snape reached out to catch him, but Harry pushed him out of the way.

"You can't touch him. He's been cursed. Many Dark curses spread to anyone who touches the cursed person until it's neutralized. Look at his hand."

Dumbledore sat down on one of the benches. His hand, which had the ring on it, was greenish black. Faint tendrils of black, like a spider's web, were starting to move up Dumbledore's wrist.

"We need to get the ring off him and destroyed," Harry said. "Let's get him upstairs to the infirmary. Is there something you can do to neutralize the curse?"

"I have some Potions that will help. They are already in the infirmary." Snape said, and cast Mobilicorpus on Dumbledore as they both hurried out of the hall, Dumbledore following behind them.

"Where is Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked as they came into the darkened infirmary. Before Snape could answer, he held up his hand. "Never mind. I forgot. She was always around when we needed her even after Hogwarts fell."

"She, McGonagall, and Hagrid were all at an Order meeting. The rest of the teachers died as well as..." Harry didn't need to say it again.

Snape nodded once and waved his wand to lower Dumbledore onto the bed. "I'll get him something to keep the curse from spreading."

"Nice to know you believed me well enough to have it all ready." Harry would have expected nothing less.

"It never pays to be short-sighted. I may not care for you, but I'm not stupid." Snape whirled around, his robes flaring, and moved across the room to the locked potions cabinet.

"Where else would I have put it?" Snape returned with a red and a green bottle of liquid. Careful not to touch him, Snape held it to Dumbledore's mouth and forced him to drink it.

"He should sleep for several hours," Snape said, vanishing the bottles with a flick of his wand. "And he'll need to stay in bed for a few days."

Before he could respond, McGonagall came in. "I was in Albus' office, one of the portraits said he'd been hurt."

McGonagall's eyes tracked his and widened. "And was cursed anyway. The stubborn old fool."

"I should have known that something needed to change beyond just knowing that the possibility of the curse existed. One of us should have gone with him." Even if there was no way to force Dumbledore to do something he didn't want to do, Harry wished he'd insisted a little harder.

"There is no use worrying about that now. We'll need to find a way to treat him." McGonagall directed that towards Snape.

"Without knowing the curse, there is only so much I can do." Snape's hands were clenched into fists.

"He's stabilized," Snape said. "Which means we've stopped the active curse. Touching him won't infect anyone else. As for the curse itself, I don't know."

"There's no way to know. His hand looks better than it did when I saw him that fall." Harry would never forget how black and dead Dumbledore's hand had been.

She sucked in a breath and then let it out slowly. "All right. Until he wakes, we're not going to know anything more." She turned to Harry. "I've found suitable housing for you, or rather for us."

"So are you, Severus. In the eyes of Wizarding Society, he is still a child. He needs guardians."

"What about the cup?" Harry said, annoyed that they would talk about him as if he weren't there.

"As I've said, I will go with you to get it. But I don't need to live with you. I do think that is above and beyond anything that should be asked of me."

"Too bad," McGonagall said. "We're going to have two children to deal with as well as Harry. And they will need supervision."

"Really, Professor, I can supervise Hermione and Ron." He wasn't sure he liked the idea that Snape would be living in the same house as him. Another wave of hormones hit him at the thought, and he wanted to groan. And find a few minutes alone to take care of it.

"I've promised Miss Granger's parents that she will be well chaperoned." McGonagall folded her arms into the sleeves of her tartan robes. "You will stay there."

It was fascinating watching them fight. They were like a mother and grown son. He wondered why he'd never made the connection between the two of them before. Until this was resolved, he wasn't going to open his mouth.

"I know nothing of the sort," Snape said, but it was clear that he was going to do what she wanted. "The Dark Lord will have my hide for this."

McGonagall smiled at that. "Perhaps not. Albus has ordered you to stay the summer with Potter and his little friends. You can tell him all about what they are doing."

"It would be better than having the rat in my home all summer." Snape's brow creased, and then he sighed, resigned.

"Where is there?" Harry asked. Because really, this was supposed to be his base of operations and things were already getting out of hand.

She looked at him as if she'd forgot he was there. "Oh, sorry. I found a manor house near York. It should not be out of your range of affordability."

"No sense in not being comfortable. It's going to be a long few weeks. I suspect we'll have to take Albus, as well."

"For one thing, he needs to recover, for another, there will be students around. He won't care to be seen in such a state."

"I've not done anything with him. I am hoping you'll give up the notion of having him with you," McGonagall said in a tone that could not be more disapproving.

"I want him there. It would destroy him to be left out." Harry understood Ron's needs very well and he would not be a party to hurting him. "I'll go speak to the Weasleys." It would no doubt be a chore to convince them of who he was now, but if he'd managed several times already, he could do it one more time for Ron.

Harry approached the Burrow with some trepidation. He had no doubt that Ron hadn't told his parents or anyone else about what had happened. Actually, he wasn't entirely sure that after having had time to think about it, Ron hadn't just written it off as a lie.

Bill opened the door to his knock, and started to greet him. A second later, his face changed to outrage. Harry was jerked inside, and a wand pressed to his throat.

And then, it was already too late to do anything about his reaction. Harry's rage and reflexes took over and it was as if he were watching from somewhere else. He moved quickly, disarming Bill and throwing him to the ground with a stunning hex.

There was a loud scream of, "No! Harry, don't," behind him. Somehow Harry managed to pull back and not kill him. He blinked back his rage. Shaking and sweating, he was sitting on top of Bill's back, his wand pressed to the back of Bill's neck, an unuttered curse just behind his lips.

Everyone in the room was staring at him. Arthur and Molly had their wands drawn, but neither seemed sure whom they should be pointing them at. Ron and Ginny looked...stunned.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and fought for calm. "Really, that wasn't a good idea," he told Bill as he stood.

Slowly, Bill rolled over and stared up at him, fear and anger in his eyes. "Who are you?"

"No. I know Harry Potter. I know his magic. Yours doesn't even come close to matching his."

Forcing calm, Harry took another breath. "There's more of it, but it's the same. Concentrate on it."

Bill sat up and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the fear and anger had been muted, but were not entirely gone. "Who are you?"

"You certainly look fifteen." Bill's tone said he was thinking about it, working it through in his mind.

"Yes. That one. It...took me in and I lived another life." Harry explained again, in as few a sentences as he could manage.

Arthur breathed out when he was done. "That's incredible. Especially about the wards."

"You're really thirty-five?" Molly looked him over, no doubt trying to conflate his childish looks with his adult mind.

"I think you already did, mate," Ron said, glancing at Bill who was still sitting on the floor.

Bill hesitated and then took it. "You're right. I can feel it's you. But not you. Not the kid. You're older than I am." And then Bill smirked, and there was something in his gaze that Harry felt in a way he knew he shouldn't have done. Not now.

Harry looked away, feeling disconcerted. He was fairly sure that Bill would never have looked at him like that if he were fifteen. As it did with alarming regularity, his fifteen year old body responded to it. "I'm the same age as Snape and Remus."

"Well, you're still part of this family, fifteen or thirty-five," Molly said. "Do you want to stay for supper?"

Her words warmed his heart. "Yes. Of course. But I actually came here for another reason. And after everything, I'll understand if you say no."

Arthur looked at him, and there was a wariness in his eyes. "What would that be, Harry?"

"I'd like Ron to spend the summer with me. Helping me find the Horcruxes that Voldemort created --"

"Exactly what is a Horcrux?" Arthur asked, and there was a slight note of something in his voice. Fear perhaps. Maybe he'd heard of them. Though it wasn't likely.

If Molly and Arthur didn't know all the details, then they couldn't make an informed decision. So for many of the same reasons he'd told Ron and Hermione everything, Harry explained what Horcruxes were and how Voldemort had used them.

Molly's face was white when he was done. "And you expect Ron to help you find these...things?"

"Yes. I think both he and Hermione will be invaluable to me." Harry could almost see them thinking, wondering about using children, their child, for this. "Hermione and Ron will also be working on a White Magic spell, too."

"Why can't you do that spell yourself?" Arthur didn't look like he approved of anything that Harry had said.

Harry could understand that. "I'm....I've touched too much Dark Magic in my life."

"That won't happen! I can take care of myself." Ron looked at Harry, pleadingly.

"I know you can, mate," Harry said. "But you've got to have your parents' permission to stay with me."

"Why don't you go up and pack for a week, Ron?" Arthur said. "We'll see about longer."

She looked like she might disagree, but reluctantly stood. "You never let me stay."

"Come on, Gin. I'll help you," Bill said, giving Harry a smile. He slung an arm around her shoulders and walked her out of the room.

"What are you not telling us?" Molly asked, her eyes boring into his. He wasn't sure how, but she knew something was going to happen.

"I'm not sure what you mean. I'll answer any questions you have." Being honest with them was the least he could do.

Without going into a lot of detail, he told them about the school and the government and Lucius Malfoy.

"Why do you want Ron to come with you?" Arthur asked when Harry stopped talking. "I know my son. He's nothing special either magically or academically."

"That's actually why. He...he becomes more than he was destined to be by helping me. It won't be the same, but I won't deny him the chance to gain the confidence he needs." And this time he could make sure that Ron wasn't hurt by the Dark.

"Yes. I know he will. The Ron in my time missed his entire seventh year at Hogwarts." He wasn't sure what else specifically he should mention, especially about the dangers. Nothing was certain and he didn't want to cause unnecessary worry.

"For which we're grateful." Arthur clearly had read between the lines of what he'd said about the school.

"Yes." Molly nodded. "I suspect I don't want to know who was in school then." She glanced towards the kitchen.

At least he could reassure them about something. "It's not going to happen here. We've fixed the wards. She's safe."

"I know. I...." Harry didn't know what he could say to that. Even if he could remember how much his sixteen year old self had loved her, Ginny now looked like a cute little girl to him. He had no interest in her at all.

"What he's good at. Strategize. He'll probably work with Snape, which he'll hate. But we all learned to work together in my time. I'm hoping it will hold true now." It would not be easy. Ron and Snape were like oil and water, but there was more at stake than their petty disputes and the sooner they both learned it, the better off everyone would be.

"As safe as I can make it, I promise. I wouldn't put him or Hermione in danger, if I could avoid it. I did that once already and...." Harry trailed off and took a breath.

Both Molly and Arthur were quiet, clearly thinking about it. Ron came back down the stairs with a bag over his shoulder. "Ready."

Harry couldn't sleep. Not that he ever slept well. Lying awake in bed, tossing and turning was counter-productive, so he hauled himself out, and dressed. The house was huge and quiet. More than enough room for everyone, and it gave him a bit of privacy.

A light on in the kitchen drew him to the door. Snape sat at the big wooden table, drinking tea. He looked up, startled, as Harry came into the room.

"Sorry," Harry murmured, reheating the pot with a flick of his wand. "You're up late."

Snape grunted, and blew on his tea before taking a sip. "The same could be said for you."

"I couldn't sleep. I've never slept well, as you might remember. But lately...." His own nightmares had got worse over the years, and he thought...knew that was true of his Severus as well. But this Snape was not someone he knew much about.

For several long moments, they both sipped their tea in silence. Snape rubbed his forearm through his dressing gown twice before Harry said, "Is he calling you?"

Snape's eyes snapped up and for one moment, Harry was sure Snape would say something blistering, but he shook his head. "Not yet. He will though, soon. A day or two at most."

"I haven't felt anything from him." Harry touched his scar, which didn't feel as raw as he remembered it feeling for most of his adolescence.

"Perhaps, your connection to him -- which is magical -- ended when you killed him in your time." Snape's brow creased as he thought about it. "If that were true, you would be able to act completely independently of him. But he would notice immediately."

Harry concentrated on the link. It flared into life as soon as he thought about it. Occluding his mind was automatic, but he felt Voldemort's thoughts turn in his direction. "I can feel him, now. But I can block him."

"I'm sure he will, but it's not something he can blame on you." Harry rubbed his neck and sighed. "You could tell him that Dumbledore has been teaching me Occlumency."

"If you suddenly can prevent him from entering your mind, he might get suspicious, especially if you are just learning it."

Fuck. Harry hadn't thought about that. "You're right. I can occlude some part of my mind, but let my surface thoughts remain readable."

"I didn't know that was possible for more than a very short amount of time," Snape said, sounding not quite disbelieving.

"It is. It takes a different kind of concentration than regular Occlumency. I can teach you, if you'd like."

"Perhaps, if we have some time. However, I suspect that any change in what he can read in my mind will likely make him suspicious or bring down his outright displeasure. That is something I would like to avoid."

Again Snape looked like he might be deciding whether to answer or not. "It itches. It's irritating, but not painful. When he calls, it's painful."

He and his Severus hadn't discussed Severus' service to Voldemort in any more detail than was necessary at the time. Which was to say, not much. "How painful?"

"It's not as if I have a choice." Snape's expression said he thought that was a foolish question.

Harry looked away, not wanting Snape to see the emotions in his eyes. "We were always hoping he'd get more information from inside Voldemort's camp."

It was a major disappointment that all of Severus' sacrifices were for naught. "Voldemort never trusted you enough to really tell you anything --"

"Even then. It wasn't worth it," Harry said quietly. The Severus in his time never got past what he'd been forced to do.

"He's dying. I've given him a potion to slow the process, but even with that it's inevitable." Snape's voice was rough with sadness.

And Harry's gut clenched. There ought to be something they could do. "Maybe Hermione can --"

"She might be a smart little witch. But she's still only sixteen. She does not have the time to learn what she needs. She can't do it fast enough." There wasn't anything sneering in his tone. Only the pain of knowing someone he cared about was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"How long do you suppose?" Harry hated to ask, hated the need to know the answer, but they had to plan. Had to be ready.

"Six months, maybe eight. Possibly longer, but I don't think so," Snape said quietly, an edge to his tone.

"He lived until the end of my sixth year. But thinking back on it, I can see now that he was very weak. The Snape in my time was giving him something to keep him alive."

"As I said, I have several potions that will help him, but nothing that will ultimately be more than a palliative."

"There is still so much he needs to do. He died far too soon in my time and I didn't learn everything I needed to know from him. That was part of the reason it took so long to find all of the Horcruxes. And there was an extra one we didn't know we should be looking for." Harry looked down. He wasn't sure about talking about this, but he said, "His death was partly my fault, too."

He couldn't understand the impulse to tell Snape the truth. Even after all this time, just thinking about it made his stomach roil. "He had taken me with him to find the third Horcrux. It was in a basin with some kind of liquid...poison. He forced me to feed it to him."

"Ah, so you had some sympathy for me being forced as well." Snape gave him a withering look.

There was no use in denying the obvious. Harry had never been proud of how he acted then. "Not a lot, no."

"That doesn't surprise me." Snape's tone was full of hatred, but surprisingly, it wasn't directed at him, the Harry he was now.

"I was only sixteen. It's hard to understand there are shades of gray at that age. I hadn't the experience to understand." Especially for someone like the child he'd been then. It had been impossible.

Of course, the Snape he was dealing with now wasn't much better. His blind hatred of teenaged Harry was just as repugnant as it had always been.

Harry laughed because it was that or cry. "No, of course, not. The worst part of it was that the locket was a fake."

"If he'd been smarter he would have just left, but no, he had to make a show of it," Snape spat.

"He and I were friends. I told him to just go. Typical Black. He wouldn't listen." Snape looked at him. "You didn't know that?"