Pandora's Box

Harry opened his eyes, feeling refreshed and amazingly alive. He sat upright and stared at his white surroundings before fumbling around for his glasses. He found them on the small bed stand to his right and put them on. As his eyes focused, he noticed Severus the ghost floating beside the bed, watching at him with a wary expression. Harry sighed. “What are you so upset about now?” he asked.

Severus snorted. “Well, you didn’t scream and faint this time in shock at the sight of my being dead, so you must be our Harry.”

“I guess this means I’m not the one with the hickey on his neck.”

Severus’ appearance, white and transparent, turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. Harry stared in astonishment. Severus whirled around to face the other way. “I suppose that isn’t a good sign,” Harry said.

“No,” said Francis behind him, “it isn’t.” Harry turned to see his great-grandfather checking the other Harry’s pulse. “You see, he and you--that is, this reality’s Harry and this reality’s Severus--are currently--ah, how does one say this tactfully?” Francis tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Well, you are participating together in a very, um,” his face suddenly burned red, “graphic relationship.”

Harry could guess what that meant if he tried really hard. He vaguely understood the basic mechanics of sex because of both Anastasia and Edwina’s botched-up attempt at teaching him the facts of life when they were still at Dursleys, but that was between a man and a woman. He was not sure what a man and a, well, boy did, but it was probably something similar, and probably not something he wanted to think of--oh. Oh. Oooooohhhhh . . . He felt his face burn red. “But--”

“Naturally,” Francis hurried on to add before Harry said something regrettably embarrassing, “I asked Dumbledore what the legal relationships between minors and adults were now, since the wizarding society frowned upon such relationship and believed it to be taboo but not illegal in my time.” Francis shrugged helplessly. “Unfortunately, little has changed since then. Your godfather is still a convict in this reality and the Dursleys disowned you before your fifth year at Hogwarts, so you legally don’t have any legal guardians to forbid this relationship from carrying on.”

“But . . .” Harry shook his head in dismayed shock. “I’m having an affair with the greasy, horrible . . . ewwww!”

“You’re not exactly the finest catch yourself!” snapped Severus hotly without turning around. Francis did not say anything. He merely dropped the other Harry’s wrist and sat down on the bed. “I believe we have overstayed our welcome.” He looked at Harry with some concern. “Do you feel well enough to jump realities?” he asked. “I found a new wand and thought up an interesting theory on existence in the sixteen hours you’re asleep.”

Harry felt his stomach turn at the idea of being sucked into the Mirror of Rebounds and his scar twinge in sympathy. He pressed the palm of his hand against it. “Before we go,” he said, “I have some things to tell you. Like every time Pandora’s Box opens, my scar hurts.” Severus the ghost twisted and peered curiously at Harry over his shoulder as Francis folded his arms before himself and looked patient. Harry took this as a sign they would listen. “It hurts just like Voldemort makes it hurt. I don’t know why though.”

“Maybe it has something to do with the power stored in Pandora’s Box,” Francis said. He frowned thoughtfully and leaned forward, propping both elbows on his knees. “Harry, we can’t be sure of what is within that box of Pandora’s. We don’t know what sort of power it is. All we know thus far is what Pandora has said and what has happened. Pandora said the box is only to be opened when the situation is absolutely dire. Given that sort of command, the power must certainly be horrendously strong. Yet it also seems attuned to the Mirror of Rebounds for whatever reason, and the immensity of the power may be it. Now, that may say something about your scar as well. Tom Riddle had immense magical power, and your scar seems to react rather harshly to magical attacks. There may be a connection somewhere there between all three of these things.” Francis hesitated. “Or it might just be the level of magic used in all three cases that affect your scar.”

“Tell him about your theory on existence,” Severus said. Francis took his glasses off and began to clean them.

“Well, it’s not much of a theory yet. Just something I devised upon learning that Pandora married her cousin, Tacitus Snape, and I married a student I met from another school of magic while visiting family in Australia.”

“He got killed in this reality when he fell off his broom and broke his neck,” Severus added.

Francis frowned as Harry groaned, “Again?”

“That’s what I said,” Francis grumbled before he put his glasses on again. “And Severus here is the grandson of Pandora’s son, Oliver, who married a Hufflepuff student, while you were born from James, who was born from my son Edwin. Funny that; Edwina’s name is the feminine version of Edwin. Now, all things considering, it would seem that you wouldn’t come into existence because Pandora and I never had children, but it did happen. My theory is this: regardless of who marries who, each person who exists was made to exist as they are, regardless of genes or gender.” He fiddled thoughtfully with his glasses frames. “It has some holes in it and the theory is still slightly shaky, but I’m still working on it.”

“Ah.” Harry was silent for a moment.

“What happened?” Severus asked. Harry looked at him with bewilderment. “Earlier, you kept appearing and fading and appearing and fading, first in one part of the room and then in the other.”

“I don’t know.” Harry rubbed his temples. “All I know was that I was caught in some sort of vortex and kept going around you two in a circle before this strand of light yanked me out of it and dumped me in a dream I had already been in before. Well, sort of. Same area and person and all that.”

Severus gave him a blank look. “What?”

“Could you explain a little clearer?” Francis asked as he stood up. He gathered up an armful of robes off of a nearby chair. “Here,” he said. He offered the robes to Harry. Harry looked down himself and noticed that he and the other Harry were wearing identical hospital gowns.

Harry told them about the dream he had of the Bloody Baron, Cousin Quigley, and Pandora, as he dressed in the robes.

“I’m whose son?”

Harry peered sideways at Severus, whose face was screwed up in horror and shock.

“It makes sense,” Francis said thoughtfully. He shaped his fingers into a square box and held them up so it appeared as if he were enclosing Severus within the box. “Dark skin goes sallow if it doesn’t have enough sunlight, and your facial features can match an Indian’s.” He shrugged and dropped his hands. “Or maybe I read too many American West dime-novels in my youth.”

Severus looked torn between disbelief and anger.

“What’s the matter?” Francis asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Severus said in a surprisingly mild voice. “The matter may be that I just found out all the misery in my life comes from being the son of the drunken slob who haunted portrait frames in the same place I was probably born in.” He sighed and seemed to wilt. “At the moment, I find it difficult to reconcile with the idea that I may have sprung from the loins of Quaffing Quigley.”

“The Bloody Baron said that Cousin Quigley’s son’s name was Dominic.” Harry and Francis looked expectantly at Severus.

Severus straightened and crossed his arms before himself. “Don’t look at me,” he snarled. “If I had a name on the slums, I obviously didn’t know it because I would have protested against being called the oddball.”

“But your middle name is Dominic,” Harry pointed out.

“Because Pandora said that the twins and Oliver swore the next one of them who had a son would name him Dominic for her. I wanted Severus’ name, and Pandora let me have it, but she was very adamant on my being Dominic as well.”

Francis turned back to Harry. “You have more to say though, so keep going.”

At the mention and description of the man Harry had been with, Francis and Severus’ interest sharpened into a dark suspicion. Harry watched the ploy of emotions flitting across their features. Pain, fright, anger, curiosity. He decided to leave out how he had told the man every aspect of his life.

“What is it?” he asked. “Is it someone I should be careful with?”

Severus and Francis exchanged looks before Severus answered. “We don’t know. Everything is now very confusing, and we’re not sure of who to be wary of, or to trust.”

“Who do you suppose it is?”

“We don’t know,” Francis said firmly. “The description would fit any number of persons. Something flickered in his eyes. “Yet you say it isn’t the first dream you had of him?” Harry then told them about the dream he had of the man on the Knights Bus.

“You know,” said Francis as Harry finished, “Pandora used to refer to her father as a Wanderer.”

“And Cousin Quigley said Grandfather Severus met Rhianon when the Mirror of Rebounds spoke to him in other means. I guess that makes sense.”

Francis and Severus exchanged a long look. “We were thinking,” Francis said finally, “and this clinches it. We want Pandora back. Even though she’s with her mother’s family, well, we think she should come home with us. She knows more about what we’re doing that we do, and if she’s alive, then there’s always the chance for her to come back. So every time we jump, we’re not only going to inquire after a good Tom Riddle, we’re also going to see if Pandora’s alive and if she is, then maybe there’s the chance that her mother and our Pandora’s mother are the same.” He looked sad. “We miss her,” he added.

Harry nodded. He could go with that. “So when do we leave?” he asked.

“Right now, if you’re feeling well.” Harry stood up. He felt steady and strong enough.

“I’m fine,” he said.

As they exited the infirmary, Harry asked, “So who won?”

“Won what?” Francis said absently as he checked to make sure his wand was tucked securely in his pocket.

“The Quidditch match. Who won?”

Severus the ghost snorted. “Last I heard, they were still arguing.”

“Why?”

“Because you caught the Snitch. While you may be the Gryffindor Seeker, you’re also not on their team because the other Harry is. There’s an on-going argument over whether your catch should qualify or not.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if they could consult the rulebook over this infraction.”

“Ah.” Harry was silent for a moment. Then, “Am I really having a rather graphic relationship with Professor Snape?”

His uncle grumbled. “One more word about the matter, and I’ll gag you.”

Harry sighed. “Hopefully this is the only reality where this happened.”

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“I used to think I had better taste that that,” Severus said softly to himself.

“. . .” Harry’s lower lip trembled. Severus gazed at him with concern.

“Don’t you dare start crying, you hear me?”

“. . .”

“Um, Harry?” Severus drifted closer to where Harry leaned against the wall and shook.

“. . .”

“If it makes you feel better, I never would have done such a thing.” Severus looked at Francis for support, but Francis refused to meet his eyes. Severus nervously wrung his hands as he turned back to Harry. “I’d let you kick me too, but that’d be rather hard to do since I’m a ghost.”

Harry finally looked up. Severus and Francis both scrambled away as Harry pushed away from the wall with his hands clenched into fists at his side. “YOU DIRTY GREASY PERVERTED BASTARD! YOU JUST ASSAULTED ME IN THE MEN’S BATHROOM AND STUCK YOUR TONGUE DOWN MY THROAT BEFORE I HAD A CHANCE TO SAY I WASN’T THIS REALITY’S HARRY!”

Severus’ chest swelled with indignity. “Who are you calling a dirty perverted bastard? Here I was trying to be nice--and besides, if I remember correctly, you seduced me in this reality! I was the innocent who got waylaid here!”

“I WAS HAPPY BEING A VIRGIN BEFORE YOU CAME ALONG AND HAD YOUR NAUGHTY WAY WITH ME!”

“My naugh--” Severus bristled with indignity. “Harry! I’m not the teenager suffering from hormones here!”

Francis’s face was red with embarrassment as he glanced over the small crowd of onlookers they had begun to attract. “Boys, please!”

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“I’m not going to say a word.” Severus looked more transparent than usual.

Behind Severus, Harry sputtered as he flailed his arms wildly in the air. He finally managed to form a single, coherent sentence in his state of turbulent emotions. “You didn’t even have the decency to wait until we left before you jumped my bones--again!”

Severus whirled around to face Harry. “Well, I didn’t know you had such a taste for bondage! Merlin, and that leather you wore! How many animals died for you to dress like that?”

Harry sputtered even more. “--I never--I mean--Argh! Obviously you were my influence in that!” Francis looked at the small crowd of onlookers they had attracted again. He waved his hands to get their attention. “Boys, please! There are little first year Hufflepuffs in hearing!”

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Harry and Severus silently watched Francis gleefully stare out of the window down to the courtyard below.

“Draco? That was Draco Malfoy?” Francis pointed at something below.

Harry and Severus exchanged mutual looks of annoyed impatience.

“He’s got you two wrapped around his little fingers! Buahahahahahahaha--”

Severus gritted his teeth. “. . . Francis is having a little too much fun at our expense.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement. “I say we knock him over the head and punt his body into the Mirror of Rebounds.” He pointed at the Mirror of Rebounds, which lay on its side beyond reach.

“You take that side, and I’ll take this side.” They stood on either side of Francis and grabbed each of his arms.

“--ahahaha--What’re you doing?” Severus and Harry ignored Francis as Severus reached out ghostly foot out to touch the Mirror of Rebounds. “Boys?” It jumped and spun about on its axis as the lid flew off of Pandora’s Box. Severus and Harry heaved Francis into the Mirror of Rebounds. “Wahhh?!”

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“I am not stupid enough to mix a lust potion with the Wolfsbane potion! How dare anyone assume I am that clumsy!” Severus seethed with righteous anger.

Both Francis and Harry looked slightly green as they leaned against each other for support.

“Eeeeewwwww!”

“Eeeeewwwww!”

Severus bristled at the glances they sent him. “What are you staring at me for?”

Harry waved his hand as he tried not to make the flaming-red Severus any madder that what he already was. “Let’s just go before we see that--that sight again.” He shuddered.

“Yes.” Francis nodded his head again and looked over his shoulder at the wide-eyed children who stared at them. “Besides, there are little Hufflepuffs in hearing.”

“(hic) Sho conshiderate! I (hic) wub you guysh!”

All three reality-jumpers scrambled away from the drunken Cousin Quigley, who clutched a wine bottle protectively. They glared at him in surprise. Cousin Quigley blinked and tried to uncross his eyes long enough to focus on them. “Wuz it shomething I shaid?”

Severus pointed a finger at Cousin Quigley. His anger came back once more at the sight of someone they all more or less figured was his father. “It’s you!”

Harry straightened upward. “What are you doing here?”

Francis was the only one who decided to calmly assess the situation. “Unless you belong in this reality.”

Cousin Quigley grinned at them, unabashed by Severus’ anger. “ ‘Sh funny how you three carry on a rampant convershashion with one another. Yesh, it’sh me!” He triumphantly waved his bottle of wine and nearly fell over. “Good ol’ (hic) Coushin Quigley!”

A wave of cold, so chilling that it nearly burned, suddenly blasted down the hallway like a tidal wave of water. A voice followed after it, the volume greater even than Severus’. “WHERE THE HELL IS THAT PATHETIC PILE OF DRUNKEN SHIT?!”

Cousin Quigley sobered immediately. “Eeep! He’s found me!”

Severus whirled around. “That’s our cue to leave.”

“Yes.” Harry ran after Severus.

Francis followed after, but he waved cheerfully. “Bye Cousin Quigley.” Cousin Quigley wrung his hands and floated about in a dizzy circle.

“I gotta hide! I gotta hide!”

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Severus glared at the crying figure Francis had his arms around in comfort. “Bugger.” He glared at Harry as if it was his fault. Harry bristled at the silent accusation.

“I most certainly do not have suicidal tendencies!”

Severus snorted. “I beg to differ. I seem to recall a great deal of your trying to get yourself killed so many years running in Hogwarts.” Harry stuttered and desperately tried to think of a good comeback.

“. . . That is, um, beside the point. I mean, I’m not chronically depressed!”

Francis frowned at them. “Boys, please; don’t talk about Harry as if he’s not here.” The Harry he held sniffled and then started sobbing again. Francis sighed. “And someone get me another hanky.”

“That’s true,” Severus said to Harry. “However, I’ll have to say you are chronically depressing.”

Harry produced a wrinkled handkerchief from one of his pockets and handed it to Francis. “Here’s mine.” Francis held it out to the other Harry, who took it from Francis and blew his nose into it. The reality-jumping Harry winced. “Ick. Keep it.” He went back to arguing with Severus. “I’m not depressing!”

“Humph. Then why is it I get depressed when you get into trouble?”

Francis waved his hand to shush them. “Boys . . . You’ll have to excuse them, Harry,” he told the Harry he held. “They haven’t exactly been feeling well since all this reality-jumping began. Oh, here, lean on my shoulder.” This reality’s Harry buried his face in the crook of Francis’ neck with a choked sob. Francis sighed and patted Harry comfortingly on his shoulder. “There, there, everything will be all right.”

Severus snorted. “Never knew you to be a therapist for suicidal maniacs.”

Francis gave Severus a tired, impatient look. “You are not very tactful,” he said. “If you aren’t going to be supportive for someone who is so miserable with life that he’s willing to kill himself by leaping off the Astronomy Tower, well, you can just go see what the you of this reality are doing.”

Harry snickered as Severus turned red. “While you,” Harry said, “were helping Harry, we had an eyeful of Sirius and Remus playing a game.”

“What sort of game?” Harry’s smile grew wider with smugness and Severus turned redder. “Oh. Never mind.”

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“Why oh why do I keep falling for you? Am I the only Severus Snape in existence that actually has taste?” Severus looked up at the sky, more as if addressing some Greater Being rather than his nephew.

Harry decided just to take this all in stride--as long as he was not assaulted in the men’s bathroom again. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m a fine catch.”

“You are such a vain, spoiled rotten, bloody stupid, incorrigible brat. Remind me never to go reality-jumping with you again; it’s gives you a swollen head.”

Severus’ insults rolled off Harry without a single affect. “You’re just angry because I’m the best lay you’ve had in years.” Harry thought about what he just said. “Wait, I’m the only lay you’ve had in years!”

Francis stuck his fingers in his ears as he marched past them. “Boys, please!”

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“It’s humanly impossible to be that flexible!” Severus’ eyes were huge as all three reality-jumpers leaned against a small door.

“You greasy bastard,” Harry muttered stoically. Severus sniffed and crossed his arms.

“I’ll have you know that I was legal, thank you very much! Even the Bloody Baron said so.”

“You greasy bastard.”

“You have no imagination whatsoever. I’m sure you can come up with a better insult than that. You haven’t spent the past two months in my time to have not learned anything.” Harry whirled around to fully face his uncle. His arm flung wide to point at the door.

“What I just saw left little for imagination!”

Francis hurried away before they could drag him into their conversation.

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To say Harry, Severus, and Francis only met with random people snogging in the corners as they Jumped realities or discovered too much knowledge of their personal love lives was not true. In the realities that accepted the idea they were reality-jumpers looking for a good Tom Riddle and Pandora Potter, there tended to be something of an unusually high amount of homoerotica that took place in the dark corners of the Hogwarts Castle.

“You’d think we’d get caught,” Harry commented as they floated through space between the realities.

“And people used to wonder why I was celibate,” Severus grumbled behind Harry.

Francis, Harry, and Severus adjusted accordingly to the blast of power needed to throw them from one reality to another. The backlash of it knocked them out momentarily before they somehow proportioned themselves against it so the backlash was not as effective. They discovered that each reality lay side by side, separated by a single multi-colored space of nothingness. The power ripped a hole through reality, just large enough for the Mirror of Rebounds to pull them through but not enough to upset the overall balance of the realities.

Then, too, there were those realities where no one was friendly enough to blithely inform the reality-jumpers of social lives, love lives, and private lives. In these cases, Harry was too busy running for his life as people often mistook him for being a double Voldemort had created in order to destroy the other Harry. When this happened, Severus floated along to protect him from multiple curses, charms, and hexes while Francis sought Dumbledore out and explained the situation very, very quickly.

After this happened an eighth time, Francis commented something about how they needed a disguise for Harry before he then lost his voice from speaking too much. Harry and Severus watched Francis in amusement as the man waved his hands and tried to communicate another one of his theories to the boys of why they seemed to be traveling forward through time as they jumped realities. After losing his voice, Francis had Dumbledore write a note to other Dumbledores, explaining that yes, this was the same Francis Potter who died when he fell off his broom, only he was from a reality where he had not died when he fell off his broom, but instead married Pandora Snape and he, his great-grandson Harry Potter (who was genuinely the Boy Who Lived) and Severus Snape (dead, true, but the adopted grandson of Pandora) were looking for a good Tom Riddle to help them save their reality because, Pandora had explained to them through the same means in which they jumped realities, it was the only way they could save their reality.

No one was exactly sure how this good Tom Riddle could save their reality. They merely assumed he would get rid of Voldemort. From that arose the question of what they would then do with the good Tom Riddle. Should they then take him back home, or should they just keep him? Francis tried to say something but all he could do was make breathy noises, and Harry and Severus were not willing to spend the time and energy to understand him.

Francis finally resorted to writing a single question down on parchment. Perhaps we should use an illusion spell to disguise Harry; that way, there won’t be so many people apt to attack him and my voice would not disappear again from too much use.

“And what sort of disguise should I use?” Harry asked.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Severus said. “One stray ‘finite incantatum,’ and your disguise would be lost. Try explaining that to people.”

“Oh. Good point.”

Dumbledore decided that it was not safe for Francis to travel without his voice, so he declared an immediate holiday for the reality jumpers. He made them stay a week at Hogwarts for rest and relaxation. “You’re going to need it,” he said grimly. With only a few weeks left until the NEWTS were taken, the students of Hogwarts were too busy studying to pay much attention to them.

Except, of course, Hermione.

“Of course you need to study,” she informed Harry curtly as she dumped a heavy armload of books onto the library table he was seated at with Francis and Severus. The table bent from the weight. “Especially if you’re jumping realities. You need to keep your studies up, and this is no excuse for your slipping. You did poorly in your OWLs here, and I will not have you do them poorly again.” She sat down with every intent on tutoring him. Harry’s breath stopped as he watched Hermione select one book and flip through the pages. It was not until that moment did Harry realize how much he missed Hermione and Ron. He was so used to their being there, and he had been so busy ever since he and Severus and Francis had begun jumping, he had forgotten about his best friends. They had always been there for Harry when he needed it, and now they were gone.

Seeing Hermione filled Harry with a sense of homesickness and guilt, as well as an acute sense of loss. Before, life seemed to have a sense of drifting surrealism, as if it were just some dream that Harry knew he was going to be waking up from when it finished. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry threw his arms around Hermione and gave her a fierce hug. Hermione looked shocked. As Harry pulled away from her, she laughed. “What was that for?”

“For always being my friend,” Harry answered truthfully. “Because even if you aren’t coming along, somehow, you and Ron always wind up being there for me.”

On the fourth day of their stay, Harry asked his great-grandfather and dead uncle a question that had been bothering him ever since the fourth reality they jumped. “Due to the overwhelming mass of me who fall for guys, do you suppose I’m, well, gay?”

Francis blinked. “Gay?” he asked in his hoarse, crackly, barely recovered voice. “How on earth does liking men have anything to do with your being happy?”

Severus nudged him with an elbow. “Likes men,” he explained. “It’s a slang word.”

“Oh.” Francis mentally filed that bit of pop-culture reference away. “Well, we had a different use for the word ‘gay’ back in my day.” Francis looked at Harry. “If it makes you feel any better, there is no such thing as that.”

Harry blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Harry, there is no rhyme or reason to human sexual attraction. You find that they are attracted not only to the opposite sex, the same sex, multiple ages, certain features or talents or likes or dislikes, but also animals.” Harry made a face as he remembered a certain Potion Master’s rather wild romp with a certain werewolf. The way Severus turned red was a sure sign that he, too, recalled that incident. Francis ignored their reactions. “So from that alone, I believe I may safely conclude there is no such thing as a choice of human sexuality. It is whatever you prefer, and each person is different, so each person will prefer something else. We limit ourselves to a single scope of thinking by believing that one thing is right, or another thing isn’t, or even by disrespecting another person’s opinion, no matter which side of the argument.” Francis tapped Harry’s forehead with his finger. “Don’t do that. It’s very dangerous.”

“Oh.” Harry was silent for a moment. “Well, I’m still worried. I feel like there is someone out there just waiting for me to come along, waiting as he has been for so long. It’s not a comfortable feeling.” He eyed Severus. “And if I found it is you. I swear I will kill myself.”

“Don’t bother, I’ll kill me--er, him instead,” Severus replied grumpily. “I don’t want to be stuck with you for eternity.”

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Hermione stopped to see them off as Harry, Severus, and Francis prepared once more for another jump. She hugged Harry and Francis, and tried to hug Severus but all she got for her effort was a draft of cold air.

“You keep studying,” she told Harry firmly. “Don’t let your knowledge slip, especially when you are going to be taking your OWLs this year.” She fixed him with a firm stare.

“Miss Granger,” said Severus the ghost solemnly, “if I never say this again to you, let it be known that I have always admired your tenaciousness.”

Hermione grinned. “Why, thank you Professor!”

“Now, your taste in boyfriends on the other hand--”

The grin turned into a frown. “I wasn’t aware you were in a position to judge me for my taste in boyfriends, Professor.”

“Indeed.” Severus gave her an imploring look. “But really, Neville Longbottom?”

“Harry Potter?” Hermione countered.

Harry cleared his throat as he fiddled with the stem of his glasses. “I think I’m a great catch,” he said, partly in jest. Hermione glared at him.

“No offense to you,” she said, “but anyone who falls for someone like Snape needs his head checked.”

Harry pointed a finger at himself and shook his head. “I wouldn’t fall for him.”

“No, I suppose not. It helps that he’s your uncle and dead.” Hermione hugged Harry once more. “Now, you stay out of trouble.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? With him babysitting?” Harry pointed at Severus, who frowned at the notion. Francis waved them quiet as he set up Pandora’s Box and the Mirror of Rebounds, tilting it on its side again.

“Whenever you two are ready,” he said. He tucked the letter Dumbledore had written for him in to one of his pockets. Harry and Severus turned to one another and began to silently gesture the other to do it. Severus did not trust the Mirror of Rebounds any further than he could kick it (though Harry was willing to bet Severus could kick it a good distance if he so put his mind to it), and Harry was reluctant to experience the pain in his scar again. Francis stared at them for a moment before he sighed. “Someone is going to have to do this.”

Severus stubbornly crossed his arms before himself. Harry knew they would be waiting until both he and Francis probably died from old age.

“Fine.” Harry nudged the Mirror of Rebounds with his foot. It spun immediately into a mini white supernova. Pandora’s Box flung open; green and blue light flooded outward. Harry’s hand flew to his forehead as his scar throbbed in pain. Hermione took a step back as she watched the three persons sucked into the whirling depths of the spinning Mirror of Rebounds. Just as Pandora’s Box was swept into its depths, something snapped out of nowhere like a whip and cracked the Mirror of Rebounds. The mirror jumped and rolled backward before folding in on itself. Hermione twisted about in time to see a strand of golden light with red flashes disappear.