The Darkness of the Soul

EPILOGUE - Choices

Kirsten sat across the table from Hermione, sipping tea. There was still a sense of tension between them. They'd been working together since Harry's disappearance, Hermione filling in for Harry at the request of the newly rehired Headmaster, Ivan Karkaroff. Classes were about to conclude for the term, however, and Hermione was not planning on staying here after that time.

The two were in Hermione's quarter's, talking over the subject that they most often avoided around each other. In front of them lay a number of clippings from the Daily Prophet covering the last few months.

Britain's Ministry of Magic had formally ordered the Aurors to use any means necessary to capture him after his rescue of Lucius Malfoy, and had authorized him to be Kissed without further trial. Arthur Weasley had retired from the Ministry due to the strain on his family. Fred and George were offering a reward for the safe return of Ginny, whom they described as being kidnapped.

Most of the countries bordering Durmstrang had fairly weak Ministries, and hadn't made up their minds yet what position to take on Harry. It seemed to come down to an estate by estate level, with each powerful Magical family announcing their own level of support or antipathy for Harry. He had made enemies of Voldemort's followers and most of the Dark Wizards, and now most of the Light, as well, but it still looked like about half of Eastern Europe was willing to give him half a chance. Hermione, looking at the names, wasn't surprised to see that most of the people that were willing to support him were parents that had children at Durmstrang, with a large number of them in House Martello.

She didn't think that Harry would take any of them up on their offers of support, though. From what she could tell, Harry was still with Lucius and Narcissa and Ginny -- at least, there had been a reliable sighting of them together only a month before in Scotland. Colin had forwarded his picture of the four together to Dumbledore, who had forwarded it to Hermione. As long as Harry was with the Malfoys, she didn't think he'd find asylum with anyone that he'd care to associate with.

Their discussion had more silence than talk. Kirsten and Hermione were trying to brainstorm, but neither trusted the other enough to risk saying something stupid. That hadn't allowed them to get anywhere.

Kirsten put her tea down. "Perhaps I should just leave you to figure this out. I do not appear to be helping."

Hermione shook her head. "We need to find him. He needs to know that it isn't too late. There are still choices he can make."

"The Prophecy? Even if he doesn't let it define him, he'll never be able to come back. What sort of choices do you think he has?"

"He could come back to Durmstrang, and teach..."

Kirsten shook her head. "No, Uncle Ivan says that he doesn't think Harry would be safe here. We've already seen a number of Aurors camping outside the walls, keeping watch."

Hermione remembered Moody's paranoia, and his absolute willingness to ignore the rules to catch a dark wizard. If his kind were after Harry, he couldn't surface. She shook her head. "You're right, the way it is now. But the Prophecy is clear -- he can make a choice, one choice, after the rest of it has been proven out. If he chooses correctly, he can live as something other than a Dark Wizard."

"And otherwise, we will have to wait for another Harry Potter to defeat him. Do you really think he could become as Dark a Lord as Voldemort?"

Hermione shook her head, but she would never have thought that Harry could be driven as far as he already had. If he thought it was necessary, she knew he'd act however he had to act, if he could rationalize it. The more he used Dark Magic, the harder it would be for him to avoid using it.

Kirsten spoke up again. "I cannot picture him doing that. I know that I'll never know him as well as you do..." Her voice caught, but she continued, "but he was kind to me. If he knew that there was a choice, would he not make the right one?"

"I hope so."

"Then can we not tell him? Let him see what he is contending with -- and hope that he will choose the right way?"

"We can't get a message to him."

"There is always a way," Kirsten said. "I have dared not mention it, since he was in Britain, and anything we do may be traced. If it is the last hope, though, then we can send him a message."

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Hermione asked with a biting tone in her voice. "We could have talked to him already -- set up a meeting?"

"I was selfish," Kirsten said, looking down. "I could think of nothing to say to him right now, and I did not want to hear what I knew he would ask. I was going to wait until you had left... I could not bear to hear him speak with you."

Hermione was surprised at Kirsten's candor, and reached her arm across the table to squeeze her hand. "You're a friend of his, too, you know. I'm sure he cares about you." She hadn't mentioned, yet, the time she'd spent as an owl, how she'd seen Harry with his arm around Kirsten, or the looks that Kirsten had given him.

Kirsten shook her head in negation. "I am not truly a friend, just someone that he treated well. Even if I were, I would not be you."

Her implication was clear, but Hermione ignored it. She knew how she felt about Harry, but she didn't believe that her feelings were returned. She had felt a connection in his gaze, and heard something in his words, that gave her some hope, but she put that down to his loneliness and their friendship. She had realized that Kirsten thought Hermione was the reason that Harry hadn't fallen head over heels for her, but she thought that was just because it was clear it had been that way with Viktor, despite Hermione's best intentions.

Apparently, Viktor's enthusiasm and lack of English had led him to read far too much into the letters she'd sent. If she had hung around the other staff more, or if Harry had talked in his sleep, she might have known what was coming, but she had been totally oblivious. Viktor's return letters had been sweet, but scarcely had her expecting his assault at Valentine's. He had been weeping and calling out her name when Kirsten imprisoned him in the basement, but she could only feel so sorry for him.

"I love your idea," Hermione said, "if he's still the person we both care about, he'll know what to choose when the time comes. I just know he will. Do you think we should say anything else?"

"Tell him how you feel," Kirsten said. "Tell him - don't let him go."

Hermione hesitated, ready for another denial, but decided that was unfair. If Kirsten could see it, there was no reason to keep it from Harry - he would have seen it sooner himself, if he wasn't too busy saving the world. She would tell him, and let him make his choice. All of his choices.

~.~.~

Harry wiped the tears from Ginny's cheeks. She had been crying in her sleep again. Her voice sounded hoarse almost all the time, and he'd had to resort to potions mixed by Narcissa to prevent her from losing it permanently. They were fortunate that the place that Narcissa had taken them, apparently meant for this sort of eventuality, was well stocked with potion supplies. Given Lucius' proclivities, that probably shouldn't have been a surprise.

Harry could hardly believe that he was living with the elder Malfoys, let alone trusting one of them, but Narcissa hadn't done anything to earn his distrust recently. She had even apologized, with much trepidation, for telling her husband of her visit from the old family house-elf. Since that act had ultimately cost Sirius Black his life, she had to have been fearful to face Harry, but he was able to forgive her without even fighting the dark anger again.

Neither Ginny or Lucius had improved much since being taken from Azkaban, but Harry felt more at peace. He still had the sense that the Dark Arts were there for the taking, but he hadn't used them since leaving Durmstrang. As long as no one was actively threatening him, he could pretend that the power wasn't there.

He had started talking with Narcissa, mainly because they only had each other to talk with. She told him of her own flirtation with the Dark Arts, which had started at Hogwarts; how Lucius had encouraged her to use them more, but she'd avoided depending on them. She would have used an Unforgivable in an instant if it would have helped her family, but she'd never been there at the times when it would have been necessary.

Narcissa had known some of what Voldemort had done, but hadn't really cared. She admitted this freely, but Harry could see that it cost her to do so. All she had was her family, her famed pureblood and connections, and she couldn't risk them to leave Lucius or defy the Dark Lord.

When Lucius was imprisoned, and Draco fled, she was left with almost nothing. Malfoy Manor didn't even have a house-elf to its name anymore. She had to resort to hiring a pair of squibs to do chores, although they were so obviously afraid of the family reputation that she couldn't depend on them much.

She obviously expected Harry to take their place here at the cottage in Scotland, and he found that he didn't mind much. She was easier to please than his Aunt Petunia and she was good at avoiding topics that hurt too much.

She only cornered him twice on these topics, and her lectures had been short, but memorable. First, when Hermione's name had come up, she had made her thoughts clear. "If you just want to be around her because she listens, or because she's a good researcher, buy a poodle or rent a librarian. If you miss her because she reminds you of the old days, or just because she's a woman, I'm sure Pansy Parkinson is available. That girl has been practically throwing herself at anyone with a pint of wizard blood - I hear she even asked one of the Weasleys out. If you want to be around Hermione because you love her, then get it over with."

Second, and no less pointed, was her advice on the Dark Arts. "Despite what you may think, they don't control you. You still have a choice."

He had interrupted - "But what if I need to save someone I care about? What about self-defense?"

"You always have a choice. You may not like it, but you always have a choice. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named acted in self-defense when he tried to kill you. Were his actions right? From what I've heard, the Crouch boy acted out of loyalty. Was he right to do so? You have a choice, and you can't avoid that by trying to make someone else responsible for your actions."

Harry wasn't sure what to think. He knew that his actions had damned him, but Narcissa seemed convinced that he wasn't irrevocably committed to the Dark Arts. He didn't understand, but he knew that he had some hard choices to make.

~.~.~

Severus Snape's teaching had been steadily improving over the last several months. He had none of his old bile, but his students were still afraid of his detentions.

He felt like he was waiting for a sentence for his past crimes, and he was making the most of the time. Honest reflection, and nights of nightmares, had told him what he would find in the Pensieve, but until he saw it, he could avoid paying the price.

He wasn't sure what he would do when Albus gave the Pensieve back to him. What would an appropriate sentence be for years of grinding students into the dust? Could he repay them, somehow, by becoming a better person? He was still Severus Snape, and he doubted that. He hoped that he would have some sense of how to resolve his feelings when he had truly faced his past through the eyes of those whom he had wronged.

He knew the time was approaching when he would find out, but he was unprepared for the knock on his door just as he graded the last exam paper.

Snape responded, "Enter!" Albus Dumbledore entered, a small box in his hands. Severus recognized it, and his hands trembled.

"Is it time, then?"

"Perhaps." The Headmaster hesitated. "Severus, would you like to talk?"

The Headmaster's question caught him off-guard. "Excuse me, Headmaster?"

"I must confess something, Severus. I had fully intended to show you memories in your Pensieve that would change your mind, which would balance what you had recorded there. I realized something in the process. This may be a surprise to you, but I have a tendency to try to solve everyone else's problems, mostly by talking to them." There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, briefly, but then it disappeared. "I've rarely been good at helping other people by listening."

Snape was surprised by Dumbledore's honest confession, but he wasn't sure why. The Headmaster had always been good at admitting his wrongs. "Professor, I am unsure of what to say."

"Then start with what is troubling you, Severus. I thought I knew, but my guesses are not always correct. It would be better to hear it from you."

Snape didn't realize how many doubts he had been holding inside. He let them loose in a torrent, and Albus merely nodded his head, listening, apparently not judging. There was a look to the Headmaster that Severus was unused to - a look that said that his every word was being heard and understood, that Albus was taking everything in, not merely letting him vent in his general direction. It felt good.

Snape eventually began to run out of breath. Albus was still looking at him. "Severus, from what you said... do you believe that some sort of punishment is in order?"

Severus nodded his head, but Albus shook his. "Severus, with the best of intentions, and guided by emotion, you have made many misjudgments over the years. There is no amount of punishment or reparation that may undo those misdeeds. And, if there were, you would not be alone in that task."

Severus' voice was trembling. "It is not that simple, Headmaster. There must be something that I can do."

"There is," Albus' voice was judgmental. "You can choose. You can choose to do better from this point on." Albus' hand silenced Snape's protests. "It is, indeed, more difficult than it sounds. And if you cannot ever repay those that you have wronged, that does not mean that you cannot choose to do them right. If you need me to assign a penance, Severus, I will do so, but you cannot depend on any action on your part to make things right, other than the action of choosing to make Severus Snape a person whom you can respect."

Albus laughed, and shook his head. "I promised myself that I would not lecture, but here I am, again. It looks like I need some more penance myself. I do not suppose that you would be willing to accompany me to Honeydukes, to pick up some gifts for our departing students?"

Snape almost reflexively shook his head, but stopped. If Severus Snape was to be someone that students did not hate, someone who didn't hate himself, would he not have to think of each decision with that in mind? He stood up. "I would like that very much, Headmaster. There are some students in desperate need of some Weasley Wizard Wheezes, in fact." He walked out of the office with Albus, a large, unfamiliar smile on his face, leaving the Pensieve behind, forgotten.