echoes

by spinner

Echoes were still ringing in Harry's ears two hours after the enormous explosion ripped through London's Diagon Alley. He hadn't heard the sirens and alarms that followed. Perhaps he was in shock. Make no mistake, Harry was quite accustomed to people trying to kill him. He was starting to wonder if it wasn't some sort of twisted sign of affection. What he was not accustomed to was the never-ceasing ferocity with which they were attempting to make him a fait accompli.

Harry was sitting on a triage bench at St. Mungo's Hospital, holding a small, sleeping form in his arms against his chest, closing and opening his eyes as people stumbled past him up and down the hall to reach various emergency wards. There were seventy five black tiles and seventy six white tiles in a diagonal pattern on the floor, and not a one was untouched by blood or soot.

Harry jolted when an unfamiliar hand touched his arm and then withdrew.

"I'm fine," he mumbled as a concerned medi-wizard stopped in front of him for the tenth time. "She's not," Harry pointed across the hallway to the bench where a young witch with scorched hair and clothing was quietly holding her right arm against her side and meekly bleeding her life away. Harry watched the medic whistle for help and hurry to the young woman.

"Help the others. I'll be all right," the witch whispered woozily. Harry watched her mouth move but could not hear her words. Two other medical workers arrived and helped the first medi-wizard carry the witch, help her to another room down the seemingly-endless hall of horrors.

The small form in Harry's arms twitched furiously and started to snivel. Harry didn't hear the sounds, but looking down, he saw Mordred was awake. Why had he taken Mordred with him today? Why had those bastards picked today to strike back at Harry? He had known there were remnants of Voldemort's Death Eaters roaming around, all anxious for a chance at besting him. Why today, when he was foolish enough to leave the Hogwarts alone and even more foolish to have gone to Ravensrood to pick up Mordred as well? Harry did his best to hush the sobbing child, trying to rub the soot off Mordred's pale face. Mordred clutched at Harry's disheveled shirt and put his other fist against an eye, rubbing helplessly into tears and dirt.

A white haired doctor appeared and tried to peel Mordred out of Harry's arms. The boy came alive with bellowing screams that shocked the entire hallway. Harry pulled the child back to himself out of reflex and fear. What would he do if something was wrong with Mordred? How could he explain his stupidity, his foolishness, his arrogance to Severus? The doctor put a hand on Harry's arm and drew he and Mordred both to a standing position. Harry could hear her voice in his head, but not in his ears. She was talking to the boy, trying to calm him down.

"Don't worry, love. Daddy's coming too. It's going to be all right."

Through her connection to his mind, Harry could hear Mordred screaming again, and he severed the connection because the pain was almost too much to bear. Harry reluctantly allowed the white haired woman to lead him down the hallway, and he forced himself not to stare through the opened doors as they progressed. He had seen enough before being whisked here to the hospital. Broken and bleeding bodies and severed limbs had littered the narrow, bustling street. Glass shards were embedded in corpses. Bricks and wood had splintered and shattered. Dust and soot caked everything in sight. There had been screams of pain from the wounded, dead, and dying—torturous, unbelievable screams that had been beyond his hearing but not beyond his feeling.

The doctor led them to a make-shift children's ward and coaxed Harry up onto one of the small tables against the wall and under a shelf with silver-lidded jars. Mordred watched her warily, but he wasn't crying. Harry was beginning to feel nothing but tremendous relief and gratitude for the doctor. She took out her wand and touched Harry's cheek, making sure Mordred was watching her.

"Daddy's got ringing in his ears, yes?" Harry watched the doctor mouth the words. Potter nodded in reply. Mordred watched her move the wand his direction, but he did not flinch when the wand touched his cheek. "What a good boy," the doctor praised Mordred.

A second medic raced up to the three of them, carrying a basin and a cloth. He quickly bathed off Mordred's face and arms, revealing several bruises beneath the soot and tears. Harry felt as if his heart would explode. It raised into his throat and he had a hard time breathing. Every bruise on Mordred was Harry's fault, and he'd never forgive himself for endangering the boy. What the hell was he thinking, taking him out alone? Potter watched the doctor examining the boy, wondering if she was judging Harry's ability to be a care-giver by the dreadful condition the child was in. But the doctor didn't look entirely surprised, running her wand over his small limbs and stomach, down his back. The toddler kicked impatiently at Harry's side, and Potter winced.

"The wee one is going to be fine," the doctor said, touching Harry's arm again and putting the words into his mind. "Bumps and bruises. He's going to be fine. I'm going to give you a potion to drop in his ears and your ears every day for a week. You were very close to the blast point?"

Harry nodded. Close? She had no idea. They were the bloody blast point. Only Harry's lightning-quick reflexes and strong protection spells had saved their lives. When the glass front on the clothing shop had broken, Harry had thrown up one spell because of the fear of being cut by breaking glass. Harry had turned to see what had caused the window to break, holding Mordred tight to his chest. The window had been broken by the bomb being tossed through it, and Harry had half-recognized the face of Vincent Crabbe for the fleeting portion of a second before Crabbe vanished backwards into the crowds. At least Potter thought he had recognized him. It wasn't as clear in his mind now as it had been before.

Throwing up a second protection spell hadn't even crossed Harry's conscious mind before it was happening. The spell was going up as Harry was hitting the ground, and come to think of it, Mordred's cheek and head and arms might have been bruised because Harry was on top of the poor child. Harry had thought the second spell, and it had happened. When the bomb had exploded, he and Mordred had been shielded from the destruction of the explosion, but not the sound of the explosion. He'd have to remember to shield for sound as well next time.

The doctor was looking into Harry's eyes now, using a lumos spell to light the interior of the orbs from one arc to the next. Potter thought his head would explode from the pain she was causing. How much time had passed? He realized he didn't have his glasses. He must have dropped them in the store, he decided. Hard to keep glasses on your nose when you were worried about keeping yourself and your loved ones alive and in one piece. Bloody hell, but it was hard enough protecting himself, and he wasn't exactly hitting high marks in that regard either. What was he thinking, going out alone and with Mordred too?

The doctor tipped Harry's head to one side, and he felt the warming trickle of potion being dropped into his ear. She tipped his head the other way and repeat the procedure, calmly, coolly, as if explosions and ripped bleeding bodies were something everyday for her. She was simply cheerful with sangfroid. The child across from Harry and Mordred was sleeping, a wonder in itself with all the chaos around her. Her right arm had been severed somewhere near the elbow, but the tidy stump was resting bandaged tight and clean beside her. What potion had the doctor slipped to that little girl to make her little face so calm, so serene? Where was her family? Was Harry imagining a resemblance between her and the similarly-bandaged girl in the next cot? Where were their parents? Were they still alive?

Harry started when he realized Mordred wasn't on his lap any longer. He moved his hands around to find the boy. The toddler was sitting happily on the table beside Harry, waving around a blue lollipop in one hand. His ear canals were rimmed with shiny liquid, just as Harry's must have been. The doctor finished with Mordred, giving him a pat on the head. She moved to Harry with a clean cloth, and started washing the soot and dirt off his face.

"Blessed Mother," she whispered when her stroke went across his forehead, revealing his lightning bolt scar. She whistled for her helper, rapidly gave him an instruction, and then hurriedly sent him away. He raced for the door and closed it behind himself. "I didn't realize you…..didn't realize," the doctor continued, collecting herself. She scowled down at Harry, making the connection between their minds again. "You should have said something! To think Harry Potter was sitting out there for who knows how long! What were you thinking? You could have died!"

Harry forced up a smile, and was suddenly fighting tears. A howl of misery almost escaped his throat. Hearing the echo of Molly Weasley's words was far too much for him right now. The entire Weasley family had perished, every last one, and all because they had been kind to Harry. He never wanted anyone else to suffer for being kind to him. He bowed his head and tried to silence himself as another howl rose up. He was utterly embarrassed. The doctor looked mortified herself. She washed his face and nearly smothered him with a quick calming spell and a hasty pat on the shoulder.

"All right then. All right. I didn't mean to….sorry," she mumbled. "You being here does go a long way to explaining why I've got half the Hogwarts staff pacing around in the waiting room downstairs though. Making a bloody nuisance of themselves. Pull yourself together. All right. All right?"

Harry nodded and she washed his face again. Mordred took the lollipop out of his mouth and tried to put it into Harry's mouth. Potter found he was very touched by this gesture of concern. Mordred's wide, serious eyes worshipped him, and he poked Harry in the face again with his sucker.

"No, no, no," the doctor said. She fished into a jar on the shelf above Harry's head and extracted another lolly. "Here. Mr. Potter can have his own. You keep that one."

"Daddy," Mordred said, poking Harry in the cheek with his treat. Harry felt round patches of sweet, slobber, and goo adhering to his skin, bristling up fine hairs. Harry absently held his green sucker in his grip, and watched the doctor leave the room.

There was no shouting, no admonishment, no demonstration of extreme disquiet on the part of any of Harry's professors or protectors. The train ride back to school had been spent in near silence once they all realized Harry couldn't hear a word they were saying. There was plenty of agita going around in the passenger car next to Harry's. Potter could see Remus Lupin raking Stoneburne, Morgenrot, and Modesto over very large, hot coals. He now understood what Severus had meant when he once spoke of fearing the dangerous spleen of Lupin. Remy gesticulated with both hands, his hair flying about in patches and strands. It had been Teddy's day off, and Stoneburne's as well, and Modesto was bearing the majority of the tongue-lashing. Potter felt ashamed of himself, letting them take all the heat. Harry hadn't exactly used his charisma spell on Guido, not really, so much as he had sweet-talked Modesto into allowing him a few hours of solitude without being watched.

Beside Harry in his compartment, Snape paused his stream of dark thoughts to find a small smirk.

"You must not feel pity for them," he murmured inside Harry's mind as he adjusted the cloak that was wrapped around Potter. "They should have known better than to leave you alone, regardless of what you asked them to do. They might be bound by their word to do as you command, but they should have known better than to let you do as you wanted. Never again, Harry, will you command them to do what will put you in harm's warm. Understood? Especially if you're going to be shopping with Mordred."

Harry nodded quietly. Snape hadn't raised his voice above a whisper, and he did not glower at Harry as Potter might have expected him to do. If anything, Snape was being solicitous and gentle with Harry, which only made him feel more guilty. Severus touched light, quick fingers to Harry's cheek and chin, pretending to be studying the bruises coming to life on Harry's face. He caressed Harry for as long as he dared, and suddenly dropped his hand away. He was immediately examining the vial of potion that the doctor had given Harry to use on Mordred and himself, holding it up to the light.

"Very high quality work, this," Severus whispered. "Doctor Beaulieu is to be commended."

The door to their compartment opened, and Dumbledore entered with Tonks on his heels. Harry understood why Snape had let go of him so quickly. He must have seen the Headmaster coming up the center of the train.

"I did a head count," Albus reported to Severus. "Twenty of our students and various faculty members were in Diagon Alley when all the excitement took place, and sixteen of them are on this train."

"The missing persons?" Severus quietly queried.

"Madam Pomfrey remained at St. Mungo's to help in whatever way she could manage. Professors Flitwick and Hagrid joined the clean-up effort in Diagon Alley."

"And Mr. Crabbe?"

"Condition unknown. Whereabouts unknown."

"How curious," Snape decided.

"I have intrigued you. How delightful. Shall we search again for him among the students?" Dumbledore pointed to the door.

"It would surely be prudent," Severus agreed.

Snape was moving to stand. Too slowly, Harry reached for his arm, wanting to share what he had seen, wanting to reconnect the link between their minds, but Snape was out the door with the Headmaster faster than Harry could move.

Tonks sat down opposite Harry and rummaged in her cloak. She was almost distraught with the need to amuse Harry and distract him from being quiet and distant. She offered him a licorice whip, and he rewarded her with a tiny smile. She took his glasses out of her cloak, and slipped them on her own nose. She colored her hair dark, and shortened it, shrank her limbs in her clothes to resemble Potter. Harry restrained a grin. They really were ugly glasses, weren't they? She looked awful in them too. Tonks took them off and handed them to him, patting him on the top of the head as she returned to her own form. Harry slid the glasses on his nose and thanked her with a nod.

Albus and Severus were striding up and down the corridor, peering into the train cabins at the bandaged and the lucky students alike. Potter watched them counting students and talking among themselves. He liked when the Headmaster depended on Severus, but more than that, he wanted Severus back here with him. He didn't want to be alone, or more to the point, he didn't want Severus to be away from his side. Harry realized Tonks was talking, and he gave her his attention. She rolled her eyes.

"BIT PEAKY! BIT PEAKY, I SAID!!" Tonks shouted. Harry nodded. "DEAF AS A POST!!" she added. Harry nodded again. The door to the compartment opened once more, and Professor McGonagall entered, all smiles and delight, which might have seemed odd considering the circumstances to anyone who didn't understand what had made her so happy.

"Here we are," she announced to the freshly-cleaned toddler in her grip. Harry wondered if she had somehow given Mordred a complete bath in the restroom compartment on the train, or if she had simply taken him somewhere private and whipped a few dozen spells at him. The baby was squeaky-clean though. There wasn't a spot of dirt on him, at least until he sat next to Harry.

"Daddy!" Mordred exclaimed. Minerva deposited the boy next to Harry, and the toddler wasted no time climbing into Harry's lap and seizing the end of the licorice whip in Harry's grip to stuff in his own mouth. "Mmmmm." Well, the boy probably was hungry. It was well past lunch time.

Harry wanted to explain, while McGonagall and Tonks smiled at him, that the doctor (What had Severus called her?) the doctor had been the one to use the word, and Mordred had grabbed upon it. The sound of it seemed to make the infant happy. The function of the word made him happy too. He had connected the word and Harry, and there wasn't a soul alive who could dissuade him of the truth of the connection. Just being next to Harry made the boy happy. Mordred bounced up and down and took the entire licorice whip when Harry released it, holding the thin strand of candy in his grip and moving back and forth with it as he tried to chew the moving middle. He smiled at Harry and continued to chew.

McGonagall touched Harry's hand on the seat, and he looked up at her.

"I can remember when you were that small," Minerva mouthed. Harry looked down at Mordred again. How old was he? Harry had to force his brain to consider it. Mordred had been born during November of Harry's sixth year, right after Halloween and all the excitement of Henri Le Clair's bite. Or had he been born before Halloween? Harry wasn't sure, before or after, but it was safe to say he was born around Halloween, because Severus had used mother's milk from Doctor Mesarik in the potion that had saved Harry from becoming one of the undead. It was almost September of Harry's seventh year. Mordred was nearly a year old then? Was he really that young?

What had Harry been like at this age? The answer was in Minerva McGonagall's misty, nostalgic smile. McGonagall and Tonks were talking again. Harry glanced up at Minerva and watched her, years melting away. There was such longing there—a longing like the one he had felt when briefly connected to Professor Volkova. Hungry. She was hungry for something. Perhaps not hungry? Starved? Deprived? Feeling the absence of? Harry didn't know which word best applied. How much had Professor McGonagall had to give up in her lifetime to be where she was? What lost loves haunted her? What lost lives kept her up at night? Who would she have been if she had gone down another road, had chosen love over duty, had gone on a few of the blind dates, or decided to accept marriage when Orpheus Snape had been on bended knee before her. It was not the first time he had been kneeling before her. A second image flashed through Harry's mind of Orpheus tracing strawberries across Minerva's naked belly and between her breasts before devouring the berries. Now there was an image Harry did not need to see! He trembled with dread, and Minerva pulled her hand just out of reach.

"I can remember when Professor Snape was that small too," Minerva sighed. Harry shook her memories from his mind (half-naked McGonagall?!) and tried not to blush. There was such a thing as knowing too much about the people around you, he decided, especially your very serious Deputy Headmistress and Head of House.

"Can't imagine it," Tonks laughed.

"Mr. Mesarik there is the spitting image of his mother, and rather like the rest of the Snape family. I see Orpheus in that nose. Those dark eyes. Mounds and mounds of hair. I think Severus ought to change the boy's name legally to Mordred Snape. I'm sure his mother wouldn't mind whatsoever."

"He's a cute little tyke, i'n't he?" Tonks agreed.

"Doctor Mesarik was such an accomplished doctor," McGonagall was saying. Harry kept silent and let them talk. Mordred was fascinated, watching them. Harry settled back in his seat to watch the landscape unfold around him.

"You don't mind if I take the liberty of examining you for myself, to make sure Doctor Beaulieu didn't miss anything, do you? Come with me."

When they arrived at Hogwarts, Severus had wanted to usher Harry and Mordred inside as quickly as possible. The train station had been literally filled with newspaper reporters. The flicker-blink-crackle of camera bulbs exploded around Harry, making his brain ache. Severus walked Harry straight through the vulture-like bastards, pushing one aside with thump on the head with a rolled-up Quibbler. Mordred clung to Harry, watching the cameras with a big big grin on his face.

Harry's erstwhile protectors managed to form a circle around him and brush the rest of the throngs away. Harry walked next to Severus, holding Mordred close to his chest and watching the ground, where the swing-step-swing of Teddy's staff was nearly hypnotic. Her blue cloak swept the ground, and the clicking of her staff on the walkways back to Hogwarts was the first sound that Harry thought he might be hearing again. But then that might have only been the reverberations through the stones themselves that he was feeling.

Once inside, Severus escorted Harry and Mordred not to his quarters, but to the hospital wing. Other students wounded in the explosion and chaos following were also being taken there. Harry realized that Dumbledore had probably asked Snape to step in for Madam Pomfrey while she was helping out at St. Mungo's. Why had Snape agreed so easily? Potter assumed it was a way to keep a close eye on him.

Harry sat on the chair beside the bed he was supposed to be lying in, watching Severus grimace at, poke, prod, and notate the injuries and condition of every single student who appeared before him. He had made it through most of them, until only two remained. Millicent Bulstrode offered a bandaged arm, and Snape said something to her that made her smile and cry at once. Snape wrapped her arm in a clean bandage, gave her a few words of encouragement, and sent her on her way.

Once Millicent left, Severus moved over to a large parchment that was on the desk, and made more notations. While Mordred slept on the bed where Harry was supposed to be sleeping, Potter walked over to the desk to study the parchment. Snape was examining the last student, a first-year boy with two missing front teeth and a bruise on his jaw. The boy's parents appeared at the doorway to the hospital wing, waving at him. His mother was crying loudly. Severus allowed the student to rush off. He hadn't reached the doorway before he was swept up into loving arms and carried away from the hospital wing.

The parchment, Harry discovered, noted where every student had been at the time of the explosion. Several different hands had composed the varied notes. Harry recognized Dumbledore's and McGonagall's, as well Snape's. Millicent had been in the sweet shop across the street from Harry and Mordred at the clothing store. Harry wondered if she had seen Crabbe as well, and that was why she was so upset.

Harry picked up a quill and drew a small bomb in the middle of the street between the two stores. Next to the bomb, he wrote Vincent Crabbe's name. It made him feel so good to actually reveal what he knew that he continued on. He drew a circle and gave it sticks for arms and legs, and gave it a round, misshapen head and a pig-like nose. Amused with himself, he dipped the quill again, and drew a pointed tail on the stick figure. He added horns and a pointy hat, wondering if Snape could hear him chuckling.

By this time, Severus was at Harry's shoulder, looking down at the parchment. He studied what Harry had done, scowled at him, and took the quill away impatiently.

"Are you sure?" Snape mouthed to Potter. Harry frowned at him, angry to have been doubted even for a moment. "You saw him with your own two eyes?" Severus added. Harry nodded to him. "Pity, then."

"Pity?" Harry asked.

"No body has been found. He wasn't killed in the blast," Severus explained, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder as he spoke, so Potter could read the words between them instead of having to strain to hear them. "That means we'll have no choice but to hunt him down for this. It's not a prospect I cherish."

"Did Bulstrode see him?" Harry said. He felt himself say the words, and could hear a reverberation of them inside his head.

"I suspect, yes, but she did not say. She won't betray him, alas. Maybe we won't have to question her further. If I bring you something that belongs to Mr. Crabbe, could you locate him for us? Perhaps help us track him?"

Harry nodded eagerly. Finally! Finally he could do something helpful!

"Someone's looking for you," Severus pointed behind them. Mordred was sitting up on the bed. Harry ran to the side when the child rolled to the edge and sought to slide off. The toddler beamed up at Harry, and held up his arms in a request to be lifted.

"Daddy," he said.

Harry sat down and drew him up into a hug, glancing sheepishly at Snape when he felt the other man staring at them.

"The doctor…." Harry began to explain, totally embarrassed. His words sounded mumbled, and he stopped talking. Severus came over to the small bed and bent down to Harry, peering into his right ear. Harry felt a warmth against his skin, and knew Severus was peering into his ear canal by lighting the tip of his wand. Potter wouldn't have been surprised to see a light shining through one ear hole and back out of the other.

"Doctor Beaulieu. I recognized her potion. She has assumed Cousin Timma's position at St. Mungo's—Head Pediatrician. She's very capable," Severus was saying. "I studied with her briefly at university. She taught….oh dear, what the hell was that class? Ethical Choices for Modern Medicine? Modern Choices for Ethical Medicine? Ethical Choices for Modern Medi-Wiccans. Not my favorite class."

Harry stifled a chuckle at the admission.

"She assumed you were father and son before she uncovered your scar, I take it?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded to the question.

"I would have made the same assumption. Dark hair, pale skin, bumpy noses. Take off the glasses, and you match. Except for the eyes."

"Daddy," Mordred repeated, happy with the word.

"Should I make him stop?" Harry asked.

"Nonsense," Severus scoffed. "I quite approve."

"You do?"

"You're an incredible improvement over that swine Timma was married to, believe me."

"Someday we'll have to tell him the truth."

"Will we?" Severus wondered.

"He has a right to know the truth."

"Perhaps he will want to know. But the truth is often never as much relief as we hope it will be. In the meantime, I see no harm."

He dotted a cautious nuzzle and kiss to Harry's temple, whispering words Harry couldn't hear down into his ear.

"Eh, hm, hm!"

Severus bolted back and looked up because someone else in the room was clearing his throat. Remus Lupin was looming from ten feet away, tugging the ends of his cardigan straight and pushing back his ruffled hair. He had composed himself since spending several hours shrieking at Harry's knights-errant.

"Snivs, I recall something about you losing your teaching contract if you are caught alone at school with Harry during the school term," Remy carefully taunted in a scolding and friendly manner.

"What a tragedy that would be," Severus grumbled. "We're not alone," he added, and motioned to Mordred, who was putting his fingers in between the buttons on Harry's shirt. Potter squirmed uncomfortably and took his fingers back out again.

"Not the most reliable chaperon," Lupin mused patiently. "How lucky you are that I am here, and I can vouch that nothing unsavory was taking place when I came in. How's Harry?"

"He's got a very mild concussion and ringing in his ears. He should be fine with a little rest and a few drops of Beaulieu's potion. It's for the swelling in his eardrums. Mordred is in the same shape but for a few bruises and such."

"CAN YOU HEAR ME YET?!" Remus asked Harry, opening his mouth wide and pantomiming the words. Potter's serious face cracked with a tiny smile. He shook his head no. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU IF YOU GO OUT ALONE AGAIN!" Remus added. Lupin mimed choking Harry. It was like watching someone wrestle an imaginary foe, or play very bad charades. Remy must have realized how silly he looked, because he stopped, checked himself, and ran both hands back through his disheveled hair.

"Abalone? Alimony?" Harry said to Severus, who shook his head no.

"This is preposterous," Remus mumbled to himself for Severus's benefit. "He should know better. He should know better by now, after all that's happened to him."

"He should know better," Severus agreed.

"What else has to happen to him before he'll stop being so reckless?" Remus worried, pacing back and forth. "DAMN IT, HARRY, I'M GOING TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK WORRYING ABOUT YOU!" he exclaimed to Harry, motioning a wildly-pumping heart by bouncing his hand in and out from the middle of his chest several times. Harry nodded, frowning.

"Someone sucked his heart out?" Harry asked Severus. Lupin rolled his eyes and shook his head at him.

"Daddy," Mordred said, hugging himself to Harry to get his attention. Snape cast a cautious eye at Lupin, who went wide-eyed for an unguarded second.

"No harm in it," Severus murmured to Remus, who didn't have a chance to reply because the popping light and sound of apparition magic startled all four of them. Whisper materialized less than a foot from Harry and Mordred. There was no denying that the house elf was looking frazzled and upset. She spotted Mordred, and relaxed visibly. She finally made eye contact with the others, and bowed quickly to them.

"Master Severus, what a relief. Here you are, safe and sound. Time I should take the babe home to Ravensrood? Yes?"

"Yes. Time he was home, to be sure," Snape agreed.

"Exciting day?" the house elf asked as nonchalantly as she could. She didn't give any indication that she had spent hours combing rubble at Diagon Alley and sobbing her tiny heart out, cursing herself for letting Mordred and Harry go alone. Someone at the scene finally told the desolate little house elf that everyone who survived had been taken to St. Mungo's. It stood to reason that since she hadn't found Harry and Mordred in the chaos, they must be at St. Mungo's. From the staff at St. Mungo's she had learned that everyone from Hogwarts was on the train back to the school. Having finally arrived here, it had taken her some time to search both the Potions Master's living quarters and the Black Queen's Tower before deciding the hospital wing might be the place to search next. She was plainly exhausted and ready to go home. She held open her arms at Harry, and he realized she wanted Mordred back. Harry suddenly didn't want to let go of the child, ever.

"He can't hear you," Severus tried to explain Harry's reluctance.

"Which one?" Whisper asked.

"Both of them."

"Dear me."

"It's temporary. Should be better in no time. Here are drops for Mordred," he said, giving her a half bottle of potion. "He needs three drops in each ear every day for a week."

Whisper pocketed the vial and held out her arms again. Harry held tight to Mordred, worried. He shouldn't have been alarmed. It was indeed Whisper, and he knew there was no one more reliable than she was. And yet….he didn't want to let go of Mordred.

"It's all right. It's really Whisper. I can tell," Severus spoke into Harry's mind and aloud at the same time. "You can let her have him. We shall see him in the morning, if the Headmaster permits, yes? But for tonight, you will be putting your other talents to use. Do you feel well enough for a bit of skulking about after you've had a small nap? You can't take an infant along when skulking, can you?"

Harry reluctantly let Whisper have Mordred. Severus had known what strings to pull on Harry, and smiled to himself at this small victory.

"Bye-bye," Whisper said, mimicking waving. The toddler watched her, and made the same motions, wrinkling and flexing the fingers on one hand the same way Whisper was doing. Harry impulsively kissed him on both cheeks and waved goodbye again.

After Whisper and Mordred vanished, Lupin and Snape went over to the parchment on the desk and talked among themselves. Harry was eager to go with them, wherever they might start hunting for Crabbe, and was surprised they were taking so long with whatever they were discussing. He thought about opening his clairvoyance to discover what they were talking about, but he was simply getting more and more tired the longer he sat still waiting. They were conspiring together, bending close and chuckling in unnecessarily-soft tones. It was nice to consider that they might one day become genuine friends. Harry lay down against the pillows and watched them, closing his eyes as the ringing in his ears overwhelmed him with the kind of white noise that could hypnotize or soothe with the same ease.

His arms felt empty. He felt a little cold. His head hurt. Would they be ready to go soon? What the hell were they talking about over there?

Someone was slipping off his shoes for him, and he wanted to protest, but did not. A blanket was pulled up to his shoulders. Someone sat in the chair beside his bed while another person paced back and forth with the click, click, click of a staff on the cold, stone tiles.

"Professor Beaulieu? Doctor Beaulieu, how good to see you," Snape was saying, giving her both hands and enduring a small kiss on the cheek.

"Mr. Snape. A pleasure as always. How is your grandfather doing? I have heard he is getting married again."

"Did you come all the way out here to Scotland to ask about him? He'll be very flattered. Yes, yes, he is getting married in March to the widow next door, Mrs. Dalrymple. Do you know her?"

"Phillippa? Yes, I know her. She'll keep him very happy and busy."

"Exactly my hopes," Severus said, escorting the doctor into the flagstone corridor and out of the path of several rowdy older students who were rushing along, eager to start their weekend. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"Never one for small talk, were you, Mr. Snape? I've come to check on the students. It was so kind of Poppy to stay and help me last weekend that I wanted to return the favor this weekend."

"Madam Pomfrey will welcome the spare hands. She finds herself nearly overwhelmed at the moment."

"I didn't think any of your students were gravely injured."

"Oh, no. Thankfully our students escaped relatively unscathed from the excitement last weekend in Diagon Alley. A couple broken bones and a few concussions. However, we have had an accident in flying class this morning. Several first years got whiplash when someone let loose a speeding spell. The hedge where they finally crashed is a complete disaster, and Madam Hooch was ready to hex the lot of them. She'll be her usual pleasant self again by Monday. In the meantime, you have saved me the dubious pleasure of spending my weekend dressing skinned knees and digging for embedded rose thorns."

"Glad to be of service. How is your nephew?"

"Nephew?"

"Mordred Mesarik. Cousin, then? Or ward?"

"Second cousin, to be precise, and ward, as well. Thank you so much for your skillful treatment. His hearing has returned. Grandfather reports that he's learning new words every day."

"He's going to be a smart one, just like his mother."

"I've told the house elves to be cautious what they say around him. Why did you come all this way?"

"How is Mr. Potter? I was hoping to find him. Is he well?"

"What makes you think I'm the one to ask?"

"He was minding your ward, and your ward was calling him 'Daddy'. That speaks of some familiarity with the lad," Beaulieu replied, eyes twinkling.

"Yes, of course."

Severus hoped it had nothing to do with the pictures that the Daily Prophet had been splashing around all week of Severus escorting Harry and Mordred back through the train depot with his arm around Potter. Harry had looked so shell-shocked and out of his depth that day. Harry's vulnerability had made Severus more protective and less cautious than he usually would have been, knowing morons with cameras were about. He was walking such a narrow path, holding onto his job and his sanity by the skin of his teeth.

"I shouted at him the other day, upset him, and I wanted to make sure . . . that is. . . I wanted . . .let me start again. He's been so kind to St. Mungo's that I thought it might be proper to come offer an apology in person. I spoke with Artemis McGonagall about what happened. I know he's seeing her on a semi-regular basis, and I wanted to. . . she said I ought to. . ." Beaulieu was bungling her way through a lengthy explanation.

"If you wait about ten seconds, he should appear," Severus replied, lifting his eyes skyward and watching the cloudless blue between the towers and the parapets.

"Practicing his apparition spells, is he?"

"Not exactly."

"After all he's been through this year, the last thing the boy needed after coming inches from death was some scary woman he's never met screaming at him about sitting quietly on a bench while more serious cases were being handled. He did what he should have done, and I screamed at him for it. I wanted to reassure him that I was upset with myself more than I was upset with him."

"I don't think you've damaged him in the slightest. He hasn't mentioned anything. Ah, here he comes."

A circular shape raced down out of the clouds and hovered barely a foot off the ground as it screamed across the courtyard. A much-abused black school gown was whipping around behind like bat wings. Harry's scarlet and gold Gryffindor tie was swept askew. The slender young man was sitting cross-legged in the disk shape, his knees poking out the sides. He was wearing goggles and a big smile as he rocketed past Snape and Beaulieu, around a far column, and back towards them. They got a clear view of the underside of the disk, which had been painted to resemble clouds and blue sky. Doctor Beaulieu lurched away in alarm as the disk came to a stop and Harry jumped off. With a click of Potter's fingers, the disk shrank. He slipped it into his trouser pocket.

"Hello," he smiled, peeling off his goggles as Snape glared at him. Every raven hair on Potter's head was on end, and he was panting with excitement. He looked absolutely delectable. It was all Severus could do not to grab him and devour him right then and there. He wondered off-hand if the grass would be prickly against bare skin.

"Having fun, are we? Where is your bodyguard?" he asked in his most acidic tone. Harry wasn't fooled for a second.

"He'll be here any moment. I got it up to forty kilometers per hour with little or no wind resistance. I went to Monvert and back in under an hour. I slipped your birthday prezzies for Illumina inside. I left them on the dining table. No one saw me. Everyone was sound asleep."

"You're going to get a speeding ticket if you aren't careful. Do you remember Doctor Beaulieu? She was kind enough to come all this way and check on you," Severus motioned to the gaping woman next to him.

"Doctor, yes, I remember, hello. Sorry about the other day. I wasn't myself," Harry said, offering her his hand and giving a quick nod. He studied her and narrowed his eyes. "Doctor McGonagall sent you, didn't she?"

"How did you know?" Doctor Beaulieu asked, limply pulling her hand away from Harry's.

"Call it a hunch. I suspect we'll be discussing you tomorrow."

"Your ears are better?"

"Much better. Yes. Care to go for a spin?" Harry asked, motioning skyward.

"Um, no. I'm not a flyer. I prefer the train," she managed.

"Is that Stoneburne coming around the bend there?" Snape asked, glancing back towards the front gate through the aperture that led through the school to the other side. A light brown, burly form was clogging and chugging along, feet barely off the ground.

"That's him. Flies like he's dragging ballast," Harry mused. "Bless him."

"Where are you off to?" Severus asked when Harry slid the goggles into his pocket and straightened his tie.

"Clairvoyance Lessons. Professor Trelawney and Luna and I have a hodgepodge of trunks she bought at an estate sale that we're going to sort through, searching for interesting tidbits. Should be interesting. TTFN."

Harry streaked away with remarkable speed even while on foot as Stoneburne came to a shuddering halt and fell off his broom. He stood up, composed himself, and vanished the broom away.

"Where's the lad off to?" he heaved for breath and pointed to the corridor where Harry had just disappeared. Potter's mischievous emerald eyes peered out a window on the second story, then seconds later, his dark hair whizzed by the window on the third story.

"Astronomy Tower," Severus answered. "You'd better hurry if you hope to catch up."

"Next time, I'm using impediment spells if he doesn't slow down," Owen warned. He bowed to Doctor Beaulieu. "Ma'am, Mr. Snape," he murmured, then hurried off.

Severus raised his brows at the doctor as she cracked into a curious smile.

"Children have such remarkable recovery mechanisms," she commented. "I take it you're encouraging Mr. Potter to continue his visits with Artemis?"

"Indeed," Severus confirmed warily. So she was here to investigate his connection to Potter, was that it? She was here to make sure nothing untoward was happening?

"After all he's been through, and with no family of his own to rely on, it's good he has someone to lean on, someone to look after him."

'Damn,' Snape thought, 'she has seen those pictures in the Prophet!' His feelings couldn't be more obvious if he had a banner waving from one of the towers, proclaiming his affections for all to see.

"We can only hope the Minister finds whoever was responsible and makes them pay for what they've done," Beaulieu added as Snape frowned to himself and at her.

"Wickerwell has matters well in hand, no doubt," Severus answered without answering.

"She knows who to rely on to get an unpleasant job done, to be sure."

That was as close to the topic as Snape's former ethics professor was going to venture. She had heard tales, it would seem, about Snape's arrangement with Wickerwell, his year and a day of service to the minister. Surely she had heard that Harry was the cause of his arrangement as well. Beaulieu smiled knowingly at him, and he frowned at her more intently, wishing she'd stop making him feel so young and completely transparent.

"Shall I walk you to the hospital wing?" he offered.

"Yes, please. I'd welcome the company even if I do know the way."

"After you?" Snape offered, hoping he might have a chance along the way to cloud her mind for her, or even possibly give her a tiny taste of his Obliviatissimo spell.

:the end:

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