Pandora's Box

"Just for the record," Madam Pomfrey said as she propped Francis' head backwards and coaxed a few drops of her Heal Within potion down his throat without inducing choking, "I have never seen anyone get into as much trouble as the Potter family."

"That," Dumbledore said from he was seated on the bed beside Harry as he watched her, "goes for all the Potters." He sent a knowing glance at the twins.

"What?" Edwina asked with wide-eyed innocence. "It's not as if we meant to turn the entire Hogwarts staff into Puffskiens!"

Oliver's head swiveled about to stare at his older sisters. "That was you two? I always thought Adam Longbottom did it!"

"Come to think of it . . . So did I." Severus the elder sent his granddaughters a disapproving scowl.

Anastasia glared at Edwina, who smiled apologetically at her male relations.

Harry watched all of this silently. He knew that if he listened close enough, he would hear Severus and Professor McGonagall brewing up a blood-restoring potion in the kitchen.

The Dursleys had disappeared almost immediately the moment the three staff members of the Hogwarts School had appeared within the household premises. Ancestral portraits were subdued and quiet as they watched from pictures and mirrors with wide, solemn eyes. Except, of course, for the twins, who were almost celebrating with their bright optimism. Their festive spirit refused to be dampened even as Oliver told them that Francis was still in danger of dying.

"The shock on his system of being sliced open like that may be what does him in should he die," Madam Pomfrey had warned them. "If not the shock, then the loss of blood. If not either, then perhaps his intestines had been opened up and his GI tract fluids flooded into his bloodstream and infected his entire circulatory system." That was why she was giving him the Heal Within potion. It was to repair the damage within his system the human eye could not detect from the outside.

"Do you suppose Pandora meant for that to happen, or was it just a random thing that some Greater Being decided?" Uncle Costello asked Severus the elder.

Severus shrugged. "I really can't say. Either way, it was meant to happen. Francis' body would never have disappeared otherwise. Remember, Pandora tried to use the Mirror of Rebounds to discover how he died, but it showed her nothing as if he did not exist. Which was true since he was no longer around due to what Harry did, and the mirror is only capable of showing the past. Francis is now in the future."

"How did I manage to do that?" Harry wondered softly.

"Sandwich affect," Dumbledore said with a comfortable pat on Harry's arm. "Which reminds me: you don't suppose Severus and Minerva would mind making lunch as soon as they finish their potion, do you?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore. "Sandwich affect?"

"Think of time as if it is a single tube which all events run through." Harry nodded after a moment as Dumbledore spread his arms wide and looked at Harry expectedly. "Francis existed in one area of time, and you exist in another area of time. To reach across the stretch of time and pull Francis from his area to yours, time must then come together." Dumbledore pressed his hands together. "When the two areas are scrunched or sandwiched together, they are so close you can reach into that other area of time."

Oliver waved his hand. "I have a question: if that is so, then how does time get sandwiched together?"

Dumbledore folded his hands across his lap. "It should be possible if enough power is used," he said solemnly.

The eyes of all those who had witnessed the arrival of Francis Potter immediately shifted to the plain wooden box with silver edging that sat next to the Mirror of Rebounds on Harry's desk. Dumbledore noticed immediately. "What is that?" he asked innocently as he nudged Harry with a bony elbow.

"Uh, well, it's Pandora's Box."

"Oh?"

Harry felt obliged to help Dumbledore. "She gave it to Severus along with the Mirror of Rebounds."

"Hmm." Dumbledore leaned backwards slightly.

Edwina waved her hand furiously. "Oh! Oh! I have a question! Did anyone else ever cross time like this before?"

"Not that I know."

Anastasia glared at Dumbledore. "Then how do you know it's possible?"

"My dear, anything is possible." Dumbledore turned to Madam Pomfrey, who was screwing a cap on her potion bottle of Heal Within. "How is he coming along?" he asked with the same cheerfulness as the twins.

"Well enough." She turned to the hastily packed bag of goods she had thrown together when Severus had appeared before her and informed her that her medical skills were needed to help someone who had been attacked by a very vicious and very sharp object. "I will have to keep giving Mr. Potter the Heal Within potion regularly for the next twelve hours, but with it and the blood-restorer, he should be well enough to move to the school infirmary."

"Pray tell," said Severus the ghost as he drifted through the wall, "when was this decided?"

McGonagall entered the bedroom through the door. She carried a steaming mug of the blood-restorer potion. The handle of a spoon was seen peeking over the rim of the mug. Condensation clung to it. "Right after you left upon telling us it was Francis Potter," McGonagall said. She handed the potion to Madam Pomfrey.

"We cannot let Voldemort learn of this in any way," Dumbledore said softly. "Who knows what he would do should he learn Pandora's husband is still alive? Or, for that matter, that some of Dinsmore's portraits survived the fire? Francis is also in need of good care, and Madam Pomfrey can only attend to his needs in a facility supplied and meant to handle wounded people."

"I'm staying with Francis," Severus the ghost said firmly. "And Harry stays with me." His voice broached no argument.

"And where Harry goes," Severus the elder said, "the rest of us go." The others nodded in agreement.

It was in that moment that an owl whizzed into Harry's room through the open window, swung around in a round arc to drop a letter on Harry's bed, and then flew out. Everyone looked at the letter, and McGonagall picked it up. It was a letter from the Ministry and Harry knew immediately what it was for.

"I illegally used magic!" he whispered in dismay. Heads turned in to his direction. "I'm going to be expelled from Hogwarts, aren't I? That's the third time!"

McGonagall opened the letter and quickly scanned its contents. Severus the ghost hovered over her shoulder, also peering at what was written.

"I," said Severus the elder, "think that magic used in emergencies, such as what happened now, would hardly get you expelled from Hogwarts." He looked at Dumbledore to see what the Headmaster would say. Dumbledore wordlessly held his hand out to McGonagall, who folded the letter and gave it to him. Dumbledore read it slowly.

"You aren't in trouble," Dumbledore informed Harry when he finished. He tucked the letter in his pocket and smiled brightly at Harry. Harry's worry evaporated at the sight of Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes. "The Ministry of Magic can't fault a student who performs magic under the command and tutelage of a competent instructor, such as Professor Severus Snape."

"Even if he's my uncle?"

"Especially if he's your uncle," McGonagall put in. "A life was at stake here. Severus, unable to heal Francis' wound due to his, er, condition--"

"You make being dead sound like a disease, Minerva," Severus interrupted with a scowl. McGonagall continued without missing a beat.

"--said you would have to do it. He trained you, and watched you to make sure you performed the spell without mistake, and it would have been far worse if you hadn't. Even if he wasn't able to perform a spell himself, he was still capable of stopping you if you did make a mistake."

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "If I may speak?" she asked. McGonagall nodded graciously. Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a smile. "Under medical conditions, the Ministry of Magic allows emergency magic to occur when a terrible accident has occurred and only a student is capable of performing a healing spell. I can even show you the law that states as such."

Dumbledore looked at her sharply. "Which means the Ministry of Magic is getting sloppy if they do not take the time to investigate what sort of magic was used," he said. "That is not a good sign. I shall write to them as soon as we reach Hogwarts."

_______________________________

Nine hours later, Madam Pomfrey tightly bundled up the still-unconscious Francis Potter as Dumbledore and McGonagall created a portkey that would transfer Madam Pomfrey and Francis directly to the Hogwarts infirmary. After a great deal of arguing, threats, and complaints (the latter aimed at Harry and Severus the ghost), Harry's relations moved temporarily into the Mirror of Rebounds once more. No one could find Cousin Quigley. Harry wrote a quick letter to the Dursleys, explaining to them that a situation had risen where he, the portraits, and Severus were going to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer. No doubt, the Dursleys would celebrate upon learning. Harry added a quick note on the bottom of the letter and told the Dursleys to inform Cousin Quigley that the others had gone to Hogwarts, and Cousin Quigley was still until the Dursleys could inform Harry or Dumbledore that they had found him (or would they prefer having the drunken portrait wander unsupervised through the pictures and mirrors?).

With that ready and the portkey created, it took only a moment for Harry to gather together his school supplies. Severus the ghost, however, was an entirely different matter.

"No! No no no no! Absolutely not!" Harry could hardly believe he, of all people, was arguing with the intimidating Potions Master. On the other hand, he had grown somewhat used to speaking to his uncle Severus without feeling intimidated (well, not too much, at least), so it only made sense that the casually speaking would move to firm disagreement. "I refuse to let you take Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's toaster oven!"

"I am tied to the machine, you dolt!" Severus cradled the object of their argument close to his chest. "If we leave it behind, I have to spend the majority of my time here, regardless of where the rest of you are!"

"Couldn't you have found something better to haunt than a toaster oven?"

"I could have chosen to haunt your underwear," Severus said with a great deal of wounded dignity. Harry's eyes grew wide behind his glasses as he had a vivid recollection of Severus doing something to that degree in a rather embarrassing nightmare.

He turned away from Severus, dropping the argument completely. His eyes fell upon rumpled blonde hair that peaked out from the folds of blanket wrapped around Francis' body. Harry knew he should be reacting more to what had just happened; but given the circumstances of his family existing within mirrors and pictures and his uncle haunting the family toaster oven, it hardly seemed startling. The idea that his great-grandfather, slightly younger than Severus had been when Voldemort killed him, was here in this time and place did not surprise Harry in the least.

It almost felt normal.

It's the shock, Harry told himself. I'm going to suddenly realize how very serious everything is, and when I do, I'm going to cry until I finally accept that what is done is done and nothing else can be said about it. Unless, of course, he had subconsciously decided to forego all but the last part of that idea already.

"Ready?" Dumbledore asked as he set the portkey on the bed. They had decided to use one of Harry's socks. Originally, they were going to use Harry's belt, but Harry only had one. Since most of his clothes were hand-me-downs from Dudley, it was too valuable to use as a portkey.

Madam Pomfrey looped one arm around Francis Potter, pulled her bag of medical supplies close, and nudged the portkey with her foot. They faded away in the distance. Professor McGonagall smiled encouragingly at Harry before she grabbed his trunk and Apparated to the grounds outside Hogwarts. Dumbledore did the same with Hedwig's cage. Harry was left alone with Severus. They would flag the Knight Bus down, have it take them to Diagon Alley, and Floo to Hogwarts from the Leaky Cauldron.

"I can carry the Mirror of Rebounds along with my toaster oven," Severus said as he reached for it.

"Then I get Pandora's Box." Harry picked up and held the box gingerly, cautious of dropping it. Harry was not at all eager to see the flooding colors again. He made sure his wand was tucked securely in his pocket, and exited his room by the door as Severus the ghost drifted through the wall. "Do you think we should make sure the box doesn't open?" Harry asked as he hurried after Severus. The ghost stopped so suddenly that Harry hurried through him and scraped his hands against the toaster oven Severus carried.

Severus glanced down at the box. "Harry, I believe that is the most intelligent thing you have said all summer." He started to float away and then paused. He looked at Harry knowingly. "That isn't saying much though, considering your record."

Harry glared at Severus, who floated over the stairs and directly down to the kitchen. Harry gingerly carried Pandora's Box before him. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Severus appeared with a roll of scotch tape. Harry and Severus switched items so Severus did not have to carry two things and wrap scotch tape around a potential disaster waiting to happen at the same time. As he looked at Pandora's Box, Harry made another mental note to himself: hide the box in a secure spot before Neville Longbottom came back to school.

Severus proceeded to use the entire roll of scotch tape to secure Pandora's Box tightly. With that finished, they exited out the front door of the Dursley home. Harry paused to lock the door as Severus floated down to the street. He held Harry's wand up. A moment passed, and then a bang resounded down the street. Harry jumped at the loud sound. He hurried to stand before Severus. A quick glance at his wristwatch informed him it was past nine.

The quick glance turned into a long stare. When the Knight Bus screeched to a halt beside the two wizards, Severus turned to see if Harry had the money ready. He frowned when he saw Harry staring intently at the face of his watch. He poked his nephew with one chilling finger. Harry jumped, saw the Knights Bus, and then hurriedly rummaged through his pockets for the money McGonagall had given him to pay for the fare.

They entered the bus together and Stan, wearing his purple uniform, stared at Harry in shock. " 'ey! It's little 'arry again!"

Harry smiled nervously at Stan "How much would it be to take the Professor and me to Diagon Alley?" Stan looked at Severus the ghost, who had resumed a stony countenance. At the sight of him, Stan's eyes popped open.

"Er, ah." He turned to Ernie and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Professor Snape. "Do we charge for ghosts?"

Ernie, whose eyes were as equally wide as Stan's, gestured Stan close and whispered loudly in his ear, "If you think I'm going to charge Professor Snape of all people when he's a ghost--"

"Maybe we should check th' rulebook." Ernie and Stan looked at each other, nodded, and both reached for the red manual tucked in their pockets. Severus the ghost rolled his eyes and drifted down the aisle to secure a seat. He glared at the dozen witches and wizards who stared in open amazement at his toaster oven.

"Nope, can't fin' anythin' on chargin' ghosts," Stan said to Harry with a great deal of relief evident in his voice. "So it'll jus' be th' usual. Eleven sickles. 'Less you wan' 'ot chocolate?" Harry pushed the money into Stan's hand and grabbed onto a seat as Ernie started the bus with another loud bang and zoomed down the street.

"No hot chocolate, thank you," Harry said politely. Ernie nodded his head.

"You won' be needin' no bed?" he asked.

Harry looked at Severus, who had chosen a bed by a window. "No, I don't think so." He and Stan nodded before departing. Harry sat down beside his uncle with a sigh. Severus said nothing as he gazed out the window at the passing neighborhood. "I found Cousin Quigley," Harry said.

Severus turned away from the window to Harry with a politely inquiring look on his face. Harry held his watch up and pointed to the little smudge that lay across the slightly slanted hour hand. After a brief moment, the smudge stirred. Cousin Quigley flipped onto his back and resumed snoring. Severus frowned thoughtfully and turned back to gaze out the window. Harry looked at the sleeping figure, and then grinned viciously as he fiercely shook the watch.

"Wha?" Cousin Quigley rolled off the hour hand and bounced off each number until he hit the bottom. He looked around with bleary eyes and saw Harry grinning. The drunken ancestor shook his fist at Harry. "Can't a person sleep in peace?" He climbed the numbers back up to the hour hand, slipped a few times in the process, and lay across it with his feet propped up on the knob where all the hands were attached. One warning glance to Harry, and he closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Looking at the sleeping portrait, Harry decided Cousin Quigley had the right idea and decided to take a quick nap as well. He cuddled against the pillow. The sway of the knight bus swiftly lulled him into sleep.

______________________________

It was another dream. Harry repressed a groan of complaint as he found himself floating above the floor of a study. He was in a long room that dark except for faint, indeterminable light sources that came from somewhere above. The walls were lined with shelves crammed full of thick books. Harry floated around and peered at the titles. Curses Created by Cults. Defending Against Demons. Devastating Potions and Their Cures. Study of Voodoo Magic. Harry decided again reading more titles. He felt depressed from the sheer mass of books on Dark Arts.

He floated aimlessly through the large room. It was like a very wide hall that twisted and turned in many directions and sometimes curved into little curved pockets off to the side. Harry drifted endlessly down the hall, glancing at book titles and then quickly away when their subject matter still contained something to do with the Dark Arts. When the hall-like room branched into two different directions, Harry saw a lighted candle propped up on some furniture. He naturally turned and drifted to it.

The candle burned on top of a writing desk where a man with black hair and bronze skin, dressed in robes so red they were almost black, sat copying information from a book. Harry watched the graceful and controlled fingers manipulate the quill in forming beautifully curved letters. The candlelight cast a warm glow on the man's face, which was strong and handsome. Harry tilted his head to get a better glimpse, and the man looked up then.

Harry found himself staring into dark blue eyes that seemed to hold the knowledge of the world. It was not as if they were wise, as Dumbledore's were, but cunning, sharp, and so filled with instant understanding of what took place that the mind behind the eyes seemed to comprehend everything.

The man frowned thoughtfully at Harry, and leaned slowly back against his chair. "How did you get in here?" the man asked. His voice was cultured and as gentle as a mother's love. The shadows seemed to waver beneath the power his words vibrated with. As nice as the man sounded, Harry hoped this dream would not turn into a nightmare. He had a feeling this was someone he did not want to cross.

"I am dreaming at the moment," Harry said matter-of-factly. The man regarded Harry with an upraised eyebrow.

"At least one of us is," he said almost agreeably before going back to his copying. Harry craned his neck to see what the words were.

"What are you writing?" he asked.

The man looked up from his writing. "If you're dreaming, you should know."

"My brain refuses to tell me, so I have to ask it in a way in which it's tricked into telling me."

Another upraised eyebrow. "What is your name, boy?"

"Harry Potter."

The man's expression continued to hold a cool, detached appearance. Harry hoped he would not be booted out of this dream like he had been in the one where he was running through a field with a woman he called Mom. The man sat back against his chair again. He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his quill as he intently studied Harry. Harry had the sudden feeling that his entire future was being weighed in this single moment.

"What are the names of your parents?" the man asked finally.

"My father was James Potter and my mother was Lily Evans."

"What are the names of your father's parents?"

"Oliver Potter and, eh . . ." Harry thought desperately for the name Severus had mentioned in his letter to Harry before his death. "Eh . . . Anne Sullivan."

The man winced. "What are the names of your grandfather's parents?"

"Francis Potter and Pandora Snape."

The man closed his eyes as a flash of pain crossed his face. When he opened them, the light within the irises swirled with a hellish power. A shudder ran up Harry's spine at the sight of it. "Francis Potter and Pandora did have a son named Oliver, that is true. However, Oliver Potter only had daughters." The man blinked, and the power was gone. "I believe I may be the one dreaming here. So, what do you want to tell me?"

Harry gaped momentarily at the man. "Forget the dream," he muttered. "It just turned into a nightmare for me."

"It could be worse." The man's voice dropped into a seductive whisper and he smiled in such a way that it matched his whisper. "I could kill you."

Remembering the hellish power that seemed to fill the man's eyes, Harry found he had to believe him. His shoulders slumped forward. "Look," he said tiredly, "I've already got a madman who seems to be obsessed with the fact that I am the only person to have ever thwarted him. I don't need someone else trying to kill me as well."

The man resumed his copying. He bowed over the parchment and seemed to forget about Harry for a moment. "And what is this man's name?" he asked politely.

Harry sighed. "Voldemort."

The bowed head immediately snapped upward. "Voldemort does not exist!" The man's words were filled with denial and panic, but his face was smooth and devoid of any obvious emotions or thoughts.

Harry eyed the man suspiciously. "If Voldemort doesn't exist, then I don't exist. I know I exist."

Again there was a swell of chaotic power within the man's eyes. Harry remembered seeing power appear within Dumbledore's eyes, but it was only a tiny drop in the vast ocean of this man's strength. No one has any right to that much power, Harry thought with growing horror.

"We," the man said in a deceptively friendly voice, "could easily rectify that."

A chill ran down Harry's spine and the hair on the back of his neck rose on end. "I'd rather not."

"Then you best leave now."

"I think I shall." Harry floated away with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances, feeling the man's gaze burn into his back. His surroundings faded to black, and Harry drifted into a comfortable darkness.

_____________________________________

Harry was rudely prodded awake by a freezing elbow in his side. He gave Severus a dirty look as the ghost drifted through him. Harry and Severus exited the bus along with several other people and went directly to the Leaky Cauldron. It was late at evening, yet there were people still ordering dinner. The many different scents of food caused Harry's stomach to clench and remind him that, once again, he had had no supper.

He watched Severus nervously. Severus exchanged a quick word with Tom, borrowed his Floo power, and led Harry over to the fireplace. He jumped when a face appeared in one of the lenses of his glasses.

"What are we going to do now?" Cousin Quigley asked as he stifled a yawn with one hand. He leaned against the rounded frames of Harry's glasses.

"We're going to Floo to Hogwarts."

Cousin Quigley's puffy red face went chalky white and he froze in mid-yawn. "Floo?" His voice cracked. His hands gripped the rim of Harry's glasses tightly.

"Misery loves company," Harry grumbled, "and you're in good company with me." Cousin Quigley slowly sunk low below the frames out of sigh until Harry could only see the man's nose, eyes, forehead, and hands.

"I don't want to go to Hogwarts," Cousin Quigley whimpered.

"Well, that's where everyone else is going."

"Why?"

Harry remembered Cousin Quigley had not been present when he pulled Francis Potter through the Mirror of Rebounds. "Well, Francis Potter is back, and he's there," he said. Cousin Quigley did not seem to hear him. He whimpered and sunk further out of sight.

Severus cleared his throat and Harry realized that his uncle had been holding the pot of Floo powder for some time. With a resigned sigh, Harry tucked Pandora's Box close to his body and grabbed a handful of Floo power.

"Shout Hogwarts, and it will send you to the Great Hall," Severus said as he floated back to Tom to give him the Floo Power. Harry tossed the Floo Powder into the fireplace.

"Hogwarts!" he cried before jumping into the fireplace. Over and over he tumbled. He clutched Pandora's Box close to himself and fought down the feeling of nausea. He saw Cousin Quigley turn a sickly green and heard him mumble something about needing a very strong drink after this was all done, and Harry would be most welcome to join him, since Harry probably needed a strong drink too.

They tumbled through a small fireplace set in the very corner of the Great Hall.

"Never again," Cousin Quigley moaned as he sank completely out of sight. "I shall never Floo again. I was happy just living in one pub only, and if I ever needed a change of scene, I went over to the neighboring pub. Dublin sure had plenty." He sniffled. Harry felt the urge to beg his ancestor not to cry. It was a sad sight to see a grown man cry, but no doubt Cousin Quigley would drown his sorrow in the strongest alcohol-based drink he could summon.

"We're going to go see Francis Potter," Harry said instead as he stood up. Cousin Quigley peered over the frame at Harry. He smiled, but it was a weak attempt at cheerfulness and they both knew it.

"Francis Potter is a fine man," Cousin Quigley said. "He can mix the finest Bloody Mary to be had." His weak smile turned into a genuine smile filled with bright memories as Cousin Quigley took a quick mental stroll through his past. "That man is a genius."

Harry ignored him as he hurried through Hogwarts to the infirmary.