A Year Like None Other

aspeninthesunlight

Story Summary:
A letter from home? A letter from family? Well, Harry Potter knows he has neither, but all the same, it starts with a letter from Surrey. A letter that sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own. It will be a year of big changes, a year of great pain, and a year of confronting worst fears. It will be a year of surprising discoveries, of finding true strength, of finding out that first impressions of a person's true colours do not always ring true. It will be a year of paradigm shifts. And from the most unexpected sources, Harry will have a chance to have that which he has never known: a home ... and a family. (A Snape adopts Harry fic.)
Read Story On:

Chapter 14 - Remus

Chapter Summary:
Harry wakes up in Grimmauld Place and begins to face the unpleasant truth about his magic.
Posted:
05/10/2006
Hits:
7,824
Author's Note:
Betaed by the Fabulous Mercredi.


-----------------------------------------------------------

A Year Like None Other

by Aspen in the Sunlight

-----------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Fourteen: Remus

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry woke up in a room that was eerily familiar, though it was far less grimy than the last time he'd seen it. What was he doing here, in Sirius' bedroom at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place? Harry groaned out loud, rolled over onto his side, and pulled his legs up toward his chest. He closed his eyes, but it seemed like he could still make out the sight of the room bathed in hazy, pre-dawn light.

"Harry?" Remus' familiar voice asked at once.

He kept his eyes clenched shut. "Get me out of here, all right? I'm not sure what you thought you were doing, bringing me here of all places, but get me out!"

"I didn't bring you here," Remus answered. "Severus did."

"Severus?" Harry uncurled and awkwardly sat up on the double bed, balancing himself on one bent leg as he stared at Remus. "What do you mean, Severus!"

"He's downstairs," Remus explained, "but I'll call him if you like--"

"Hold up," Harry ordered, flushing as he heard how rudely the words had emerged. "I mean, you aren't..." It came to him rather belatedly that with Polyjuice Potion, anybody could impersonate Remus, so he'd better watch what he said. "Um, when you were at Hogwarts, where'd you used to go at a particular time each month?"

"Oh, Harry," Remus laughed, but when the boy's expression remained fixed, he murmured, "The Shrieking Shack."

Still suspicious, Harry went on, "What does mischief managed mean?"

"It wipes the Marauder's Map clean. Really, Harry!"

"Oh, okay," Harry conceded. "I guess you're you. So Severus... er, I mean Professor Snape is downstairs? Is he back to his usual self?"

"I wouldn't say that," Lupin replied. "Oh, the Polyjuice has worn off, if that's what you're asking. But he's... a bit unsettled, we'll say."

Harry looked around the room again, and started shivering. "Well get him up here, will you?"

"Harry," Remus quietly said as he stood up from the bed. "We will solve this, all right? We will."

That was when Harry remembered the graveyard, and Uncle Vernon, and hex after hex that had refused to flow through him and into his wand. He looked up, green eyes wide and slightly wild as the truth twisted his stomach into tight knots. "I've lost my magic, haven't I?"

"We will solve it," Remus repeated. "Let me get Severus for you."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry sort of goggled when his other teacher did come up; he didn't think he'd ever seen Snape in casual clothes before. Well, except once when a boggart had impersonated him, but that hardly counted. Now, the Potions Master was wearing dark grey trousers and a Slytherin green turtleneck sweater. The look could have worked if worn with robes, he supposed, but without? It just wasn't Snape.

"We were premature to think you had recovered," Snape opened the conversation, standing stiffly in the doorway as though reluctant to draw any closer to Harry. "You were unconscious for several hours before you began to truly sleep, which facts strongly indicate that you still need to heal."

"Not to mention that I tried about ten, twelve hexes on Uncle Vernon," Harry muttered. "They didn't even make him twitch, and they sure didn't stop him from coming. It was like he knew I couldn't catch hold of my magic any longer!"

"He was simply angry."

Harry gave a half-hysterical laugh. "Does it count against the Decree if the curses you try to throw don't fly anywhere? Not that it matters if they break my wand, not now. It's not much use to me, is it?"

Remus' soft tones broke in. "Harry, you know better than anyone that you're allowed to use magic in self-defence."

"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted. "I just can't believe this is happening to me. I mean, what the hell is wrong? Wizards don't just lose their powers!"

"Obviously, the bone marrow extraction has affected your level of magical control," Snape brusquely explained, and at Harry's intent look, added, "Yes, yes, Lupin knows everything. He has to, as you'll be staying here with him until the situation is resolved."

Harry's eyes bugged out. "Here? I can't stay here!"

"Where else should we safeguard you?" Snape inquired, a little of his old sneering tone evident. "You will never return to Privet Drive, and Hogwarts is quite out of the question."

"Hogwarts sounds good to me," Harry staunchly replied. "I have to get back to my classes."

Snape made a snarling noise reminiscent of Remus in his wolf-form. "Have you gone completely daft, Potter? At the moment, as far as we can tell, you have no powers! Yet you propose to resume attendance at an institution where almost every class session requires you to utilize active magic? How long do you suppose you can you conceal your condition from your classmates?"

"Ron and Hermione would never tell a soul--"

"Merlin spare me from simpleminded idiots!" Snape exclaimed. "Not everyone at Hogwarts is a simpering, sycophantic Gryffindor just itching to keep your secrets! You share lessons with Draco Malfoy several times a week in your programme, do you not? Do you suppose it will escape his notice that you can no longer perform the simplest spell or charm?"

Harry hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath until he let it out. "Oh. I get it, I think. You're worried about Voldemort finding out."

"Brilliant deduction, Mr Potter," Snape sneered.

"Now really, Severus, you and I have had several hours to reason this all out," Remus broke in. "Be fair."

"Ah, Gryffindors and fairness," came the contemptuous reply. Snape did seem to calm after that, however. Stepping further into the room, he continued speaking to Harry. "The Dark Lord would like nothing better than to see you dead. You have bested him, Mr Potter, a fact which he can hardly endure. Should he learn that you are currently defenceless, he will shove hell itself aside to get to you. Hogwarts, for all its ancient protections, has been far from safe for you, in the past. Only your vast capacity for magic, along with a great deal of luck, has kept your skin intact!"

"All right, all right, I understand," Harry bit out. Geez, he could have stopped after the first sentence; he didn't have to treat him like a complete dunce. "I don't like it, in fact I pretty well hate it, but I suppose you're right. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is probably the safest place for me. Unplottable, location only able to be revealed by a Secret Keeper, who happens to be the only wizard Voldemort's ever feared! All right, all right? I get it!"

"He sounds distressed," Lupin commented under his breath.

"What do you expect?" Harry exclaimed. "Sirius loathed this place! He hated being cooped up here, with nobody for company but that screeching portrait of a mother who despised him, and the most disloyal house elf in the history of wizardry!" An ugly light made Harry's eyes blaze iridescent, and when he next spoke, his voice was cold and calculating. "Where is Kreacher, anyway?"

"Kreacher's dead," Remus announced.

"Is his head mounted on the wall?" Harry sneered, hands clenching with disappointment. He'd wanted to kill the little shite himself. Yeah, wring his neck until his eyes bulged and popped out of his skull, then twist the head off and give it a good hard kick, over and over until it was nothing but a bloody, pulpy mass.

Dark shadows swam in his eyes as he contemplated it.

"Get yourself under control, Mr Potter!" Snape suddenly roared, stepping forward to take Harry by the shoulders. He didn't shake him, though, just held on to get his point across. "The issue at hand is not your house, nor house elves you hate, nor any other meaningless notion that should flit across that distractible mind of yours. It is your magic."

"Or lack thereof," muttered Harry, looking up at Snape. His long black hair was half-concealing his face, obscuring his expression. Yeah, Snape did like to hide... It came to him then that his teacher's sarcasm and anger was masking something else, something he'd seen before, though he'd seen it on Remus' face at the time. But Snape had been inside that face. Snape was worried about him, practically frantic. Unsettled, Remus had called it.

Either way, it killed Harry's own anger and left him feeling just... defeated. Because not even Snape's concern could fix this, could it? "It's sort of ironic, isn't it?" Harry said, swallowing as he shrugged off his teacher's hands. "I spent years trying to wish my magic all away. And now, just when the Dursleys have done with me for good, it goes away on its own!"

Remus' soft tones offered assurance and hope. "I expect it's a temporary aberration, Harry. We've had you examined by a healer, already."

Harry took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and put the glasses back on. "And?"

"She spelled you up and down," Snape flatly announced, still standing just inches from Harry's knees, "and concluded that your prolonged high fever is largely to blame. Combined with the tainted Muggle potions in your system, it burned your magical core down to ash. It did not help that while this was underway, your body was recognizing that it had lost marrow. Focused on that, instead of what mattered, your blood did not defend itself against the problem. Or so Healer Marjygold believes."

"You believe differently?" Harry asked, afraid the answer might be more unpleasant than what he'd heard so far.

"The situation is more complex than Healer Marjygold is in a position to appreciate," Snape explained. He sat down on the foot of the bed, but turned to face Harry. "She is in the Order, and I trust her, else I would not have summoned her, but there are inconsistencies in her theory."

Harry sat up straighter. "Such as?"

"The Helasbreath elixir eased your discomfort. If your magical core had been completely burned through as Marjygold claims, the potion would have been either useless or lethal, as I once told you."

"It did work at first," Harry told him, a constriction in his chest making it difficult to breathe. "But by the day of the funeral, it was useless." Good thing it wasn't one of the lethal ones.

"You were in pain and didn't think to tell me, Harry?"

"Look, I'm pretty much used to not complaining, all right?"

Snape nodded, his features thoughtful as he exchanged a significant glance with Remus.

"What?" Harry prompted, and when they hesitated, added, "Come on. What?"

It was Remus who spoke. "Severus mentioned a few things you've said in recent days, Harry. About... blaming yourself, thinking you're at fault when other people die. We wonder if you're trying to punish yourself. We suspect the healer's missed the truth completely. No doubt your core is charred, at least, from the fever, but the real issue could be your desire to suffer for giving your aunt the marrow in the first place."

Harry felt like he might throw up. Is that what Remus really thought of him?

"You don't believe that claptrap, do you?" he demanded to know, shifting away from Snape as he asked him, then on second thought, letting his glance include them both.

"You chose to suffer in the cemetery rather than ask for more elixir," Snape pointed out.

"Yeah, and good thing, because otherwise a magic potion might have killed me!" Oh, wait... the elixir had turned out to be one of the useless potions, not the lethal ones. Well, that was beside the point. "And I had a lot on my mind!"

"Exactly," Remus softly averred. "It's probably not just your aunt, either, is it? You blame yourself for Sirius, and Cedric Diggory, and no doubt for Voldemort being resurrected in the flesh."

"Had a nice long chat, you two, did you?" Harry scathed. "Well, let's see. Hmm, I did act like a complete nitwit and charge into danger, dragging Sirius in my wake, and I did insist, just like a Gryffindor, wouldn't you know, that Cedric share the stupid Tri-Wizard Cup with me, and it was my blood that helped raise that murderous arsehole, so I'd say my perceptions are pretty much spot-on. Why don't we just finish the list, shall we? If you want to get right down to it, it's my fault my parents died, as well! Voldemort was coming after me, we know that now. If not for me, Remus here would still have his best friend. Two of them, actually!"

"Black was my fault as well," Snape averred.

"I know that," Harry yelled, jumping to his feet. "And Dumbledore, and the Death Eaters, and Voldemort, and if you come right down to it, Sirius himself! I don't think it's all my fault. Hell, you're partly to blame for my parents too, aren't you? You were spying already by then, and you didn't do a bang-up good job of it, did you?"

"Harry--" Remus broke in.

"Let me talk," Harry interrupted right back, pacing to the end of the room and back as he assembled his thoughts. "All right. There's plenty of blame to spread around, and I'm not stupid enough to pretend that none of it's mine, no matter what platitudes you want to drench me with. But your other idea?" He laughed, the sound so harsh it bordered on a cackle. "I'm punishing myself? What a load of crap. I bet neither one of you has a psych degree, so just lay off analyzing me, all right? Think about it! Oh, sure, I'm punishing myself by losing touch with my magic! That makes sense, doesn't it? 'Cause now there'll be nobody to fulfill that prophecy, nobody to put an end to that snakelike shite once and for all. So loads more people can die, and I can feel even guiltier. Thanks for your sterling opinion of my character, but I am not that barmy!"

"He does have a point, Lupin," Severus replied after a moment.

"Yeah, he does," Harry mocked. "How old do I have to be before you stop talking over my head?"

"Speak to us with some respect," Snape rebuked. "Lupin's here to help you, as am I."

I'll speak however I damn well please, Harry wanted to scream back, but he knew his teacher was right. He'd vented, and gotten it all off his chest, and now it was time to take stock of the situation.

"So what's the plan?" Harry calmly asked them both as he leaned against the wall, rather enjoying their dumbfounded expressions. He supposed they had expected him to keep raving for a while longer. Maybe they were remembering the fact that he'd gone so out of control last year that he'd wrecked Dumbledore's office.

He could do something like that again, he knew. He was angry enough. Actually, he felt like that black energy from the cupboard had wormed its way right down into his injured marrow. But he wasn't going to explode with it, not any more than he had already. He going to hold it together, and get the problem solved, like Remus had said.

Snape assessed Harry's calm facade for a moment, then explained the plan, as Harry had put it. "Lupin is going to tutor you to rouse your magic. He'll stay here with you as long as it takes, and for the time being, the rest of the Order will not visit headquarters. The less that is known of your... problem, the better. I must return to Hogwarts to resume my post, and my duties for the Order, but I will floo here each evening, as I can, to help you master Occlumency."

Harry raised a hand to his scar. "You think this is still a conduit, even with me a.... a... squib?"

"You are not a squib," Snape at once contested. "You have been injured, but you will recover." He paused, but Harry said nothing. "As for your scar, I have no reason to believe that the Dark Lord has been tapping your magic when he sends you dreams, which is why you must learn at all costs to shield your mind."

"But how can I do that, without any magic of my own?"

Snape looked surprised. "To discipline your mind does not strictly require sorcery, Harry, though of course it helps. At any rate, I expect your magic will begin to re-emerge as you work with Lupin throughout the length of each day."

"So Occlumency," Harry murmured, nodding. "Right. If Voldemort looks into my mind, and sees my powers gone, I'll be in deep shite."

"Exactly."

"But Dumbledore said he should have taught it to me, himself," Harry remembered. Not that he wanted to work with Dumbledore, but he supposed the headmaster might insist. "Wouldn't that still hold true?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry," Remus chided.

Snape raised his chin a bit. "Have you objection to my teaching you? Should that be the case, I will certainly express as much to Albus." He paused, and looked away. "I know this morning has not been easy, but I thought we had gotten beyond that, Harry."

"We have," Harry murmured, sort of embarrassed to have to admit to that in front of Remus. "It's just..." He didn't know how to say it; it wasn't like he wanted to snipe, or score points off Snape. He didn't even want to hurt his feelings, assuming he could, that was. But this was too important to just ignore, so he plunged ahead. "Are you going to teach me, this time? Last year, all you did was yell and threaten. Oh yeah, and attack until I could hardly see straight."

Remus chuckled slightly. "Rather like old Trutt in Charms, Severus. Remember? Of course you were a quick study, but I do recall that even you occasionally found his style... irksome."

"I do not instruct like Trutt," Snape breathed, clearly appalled. "That man was worthless."

Harry didn't know about any Trutt, but he did know what he thought of Snape's own teaching style. "You just kept insisting Occlude your mind, Potter, over and over. You are letting me win, you are handing me weapons!" he mimicked. "But you never once told me how not to!"

"I told you to clear your mind each night before you slept, you ungrateful little twit!"

"Yeah, and I didn't even try," Harry admitted, not wanting to think about why he hadn't bothered. "Okay, so back to blame: we're both at fault and I know it. I'll do better, I swear. I'll do my part this time; I do understand what I stand to lose, what we all stand to lose, if Voldemort gets a good look inside me, now."

"Severus?" Remus prompted, as if he thought that Harry's offer had been more than fair.

Snape huffed a bit. "I will endeavour to explain matters better, and help you practice."

"There, see how easy that was?" Harry lightly taunted. "Say, can I write to my friends while I'm here?"

Snape's tapered fingers pushed long strands of black hair back from his scalp. "Yes, but be careful what you write. Do not owl your letters, though. I will take them when I come, and post them from Hogwarts' own owlery."

Harry thought that a bit paranoid, but supposed that if anyone was watching, it wouldn't do to have owls coming or going from Grimmauld Place.

"You just can't leave my post alone, can you?" he quipped.

A slow smile crept across Snape's face. "What's the matter, Potter?"

"Oh, pipe down," Harry lightly replied. "Or I'll tell Remus here how you read a personal letter out loud in Potions class one day."

"Severus!" Lupin gasped.

"Relax, he relented," Harry laughed, thinking that he'd really needed a good laugh. It was sort of satisfying that he could have one with Snape, who was breathing a bit too deeply, as though trying hard to hold it all in.

As for post, though, could owls even find Grimmauld Place? It's not like they'd been told personally by Dumbledore that the place existed.

"Um, I need a favour," he ventured. "Ron and Hermione need some way to write back to me. I'm guessing the owls aren't a good option. Can I tell them that they can slip letters into their Potions essays, you know, roll them up real tight in the scrolls, and you can bring them by?"

"I suppose," Snape drawled, trying for a dark tone he didn't quite achieve. "Do mention to your little friends not to drop any letters on the dungeon floor, would you?"

"Yes, Professor."

Snape nodded briskly. "I really must go now, Harry. You will be all right with Lupin, here?"

"Well, sure." Harry wondered why he'd even ask.

"Do not take him out of the house," Snape cautioned Lupin. "It deflects Dark Magic, more so now than when Kreacher lived inside. It is possible that the Dark Lord may not be able to communicate via the scar, just so long as Harry stays within. It may give us the time we need for him to come to terms with Occlumency."

That time, Harry didn't bother to point out that he was standing right there, even when Snape continued, "He still looks pale, Lupin, and he may need to work with me well into the night. Be sure he sleeps several hours during the afternoon."

"I don't guess I'm allowed a sleeping draught?" Harry questioned. "Useless or lethal, I'll bet."

"Those are useless."

"Um, how about something we could get from a pharmacy? You know, Muggle medicine?"

"Do you really think it wise to expose yourself to more of the bastardized substances that contributed to your condition in the first place?" Snape haughtily questioned.

Put like that? No, Harry didn't think it was such a good idea. He sighed.

"I am sorry I can't do more for you," Snape softly admitted, all haughtiness gone. "No doubt your hip still aches, but that, too, will just have to be borne."

It ached something fierce, and Harry had a feeling that the pain itself would tire him out long before it was afternoon, but all he said was, "It's all right. I've had worse."

Snape nodded. "I will see you late tonight, then," he remarked to Harry, before he strode to the hearth and snatched a bit of Floo powder from the mantle.

Harry turned to Remus as the Potions Master vanished in a flash of green fire. "So, I'll get dressed then?" He looked down at the unfamiliar too-large pyjamas, vaguely wondering if these had belonged to Sirius. The thought made him feel queasy and comforted, all at once. "Um, is any of my stuff here?"

"Severus brought some through the Floo," Remus explained, gesturing to a battered chest of drawers.

Harry wondered how he'd pulled that off. As Remus, maybe. Somehow, he just couldn't see the dreaded Potions Master strolling into the Gryffindor common room and casually announcing that he needed Harry's clothes. But there they were, neatly folded, an assortment of shirts, jumpers, and jeans. Even shoes and socks. No school robes, but he wouldn't need them here, would he?

"Hey, where are my textbooks?" Harry called. Remus had left the room so that he could get dressed.

"Severus said you wouldn't need them," Remus called back, and Harry, just pulling on his jeans, nearly tripped.

"What's he think, I'm on some sort of holiday?" Harry shouted, yanking open the door while he was still doing up the zip. Remus was just outside. Oops. "Sorry, didn't mean to deafen you."

"We both think you need to focus on the only thing that matters at this juncture," Remus softly explained.

"Yeah, well my N.E.W.T.s matter too," Harry retorted, before coming to his senses. "But not if I can't do magic, I don't guess. Okay, first things first. So what's first then, Remus? How do we even get started?"

"Fetch your wand; it's in the lower drawer," Remus directed. "And come downstairs. But don't worry, Harry. I can't believe your magical core is burned completely through. We'll find an ember left, and coax it back to life."

"Yeah," said Harry again, but deep inside, he wasn't so sure.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:

Chapter Fifteen: Expecto Patronum

~

Comments very welcome,

Aspen in the Sunlight


Betaed by the Fabulous Mercredi.
To see fanart based on this story, visit the gallery at http://aylnoartwork.havenofdreams.com/