Pandora's Box

"Now," said Severus in a no-nonsense matter to his other-reality self, "I am your conscience. I am that annoying little figure who has been the voice of reason you gagged continuously over the years. Well, I'm putting a stop to that right now. I'm here to make sure you give a little whistle and other such nonsense. See?"

Professor Snape's eyes crossed to peer closely at the little figure perched on the end of his nose. He waved his hand irritably and frowned as his fingers swept through the tiny image. Why did my fingers just get cold? he wondered absently.

"Professor Snape?" he heard Draco asked with concern. Professor Snape straightened and tried to appear as if there was nothing unusual with having a transparent figure of himself perched on his nose.

"Good potion as always, Malfoy," he said.

He ignored the miniature of himself who glared pointedly at Draco and said in a smooth voice all too much like his own, "Suck up." Professor Snape moved to the front of the room. He whirled around at the base of his desk and surveyed the class coldly. He finally gave into the chill that had crept into his bones earlier and gathered the ends of his cloak around himself. "Class dismissed."

There was a moment of stunned silence where no one moved. Professor Snape had, never before in the history of his teaching career dismissed class early. After the moment passed, students rapidly filed from the classroom, as if afraid Professor Snape would suddenly take back the boon. A few stared at him warily over their shoulders, suspicious of Professor Snape's ulterior motives. No doubt they believed they would suffer for it the next time their Potions class met. Professor Snape glared at every tardy student with his back ramrod straight and his cloak drawn tightly around himself.

The last student finally escaped from the oppressive atmosphere. Professor Snape stood a few moments after the door finally closed, then sat down. He sighed as the pressure that built at the base of his spinal column and ascended upward to his shoulders slowly dissipated along with the aches in his joints.

But now was not the time to contemplate how swiftly he was becoming old when he was supposed to be in the prime years of his life, or how utterly mortal he felt.

Now was time to contemplate the little figure perched upon his nose. Professor Snape was unsure of where this "conscience" came from. If he remembered correctly, Professor Snape had gagged, hogtied, and wrapped his conscience within so many chains and ropes that Houdini himself would have problems escaping, stuffed the conscience into a bag with weights, and dropped it off the proverbial side of the bridge into deep waters so many years ago when he joined Voldemort.

Staring at the curls, he had to wonder if this was some trick the Weasley twins were playing from beyond Hogwarts.

Neither Snape was determined to be the first to say a word though. They stared at one another in a predatory manner, daring the other to be the first to move. It was when the tiny Severus folded his legs and sat down on the edge of Professor Snape's nose as if he intended to camp there that Professor Snape decided it was up to him to break the silence.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" he asked himself softly.

The tiny Severus' upper body stiffly turned to face him. "You can do what I tell you."

"Why should I?"

"I am your conscience. I know what is good for you."

"Do you now?"

"Yes. You need help understanding how to help people, which is good for you. I have a task. It will be daunting and challenging, because you will be tempted to do something horrendous."

"And if I do that something?"

"Then I will tell Minerva McGonagall who strung her underwear from the Gryffindor flagpole on a dare, and framed it on James Potter."

"That was Lucius!"

Professor Snape thought he heard his conscience mutter something about how it was too bad some things did not remain the same in every reality, but he dismissed it when his conscience shook a finger at him. "Nonetheless, I will find out what you feel guilty about, and I will tell her."

Professor Snape frowned. "If you're my conscience, then how will you be able to tell Minerva? Technically, you don't exist, and if you did, I'm the only one who can see or hear you. And you're supposed to know what I feel guilty about anyway."

"Operative word here: I am your conscience. If I feel like doing something, then I will do it. I may have been out of . . . commission, for a while, but I'll make up for it."

Professor Snape contemplated this. How true; he would not put it past his conscience to pull a dirty trick. After all, it was his conscience. That was what he would do if he were a conscience

In a small corner of his mind, Professor Snape had to wonder how he, a Slytherin, managed to even have a conscience in the first place.

He blamed it on genetics. That was easy to do in this day and age where Muggle science was becoming more adept than wizarding magic. "What is this test?"

The little Snape-conscience floated off his nose. "Follow me."

Professor Snape watched the tiny figure float the door and then turn about in midair. The glare his conscience sent him was enough for even him to move. He stood up and stalked after the floating figure, and tried to appear as if he were not.

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"So," said Draco, "tell me about yourself. I'd like to know more about you."

Harry and Draco were seated with their backs against one wall of stone and their feet planted firmly at a ninety-degree angle against the other wall of stone. They had been quiet for the long while since Severus left.

Harry had slowed down for the first time since he had sat in Marcia's kitchen and had pizza with Harry2. His weariness finally caught up with him and he slumped tiredly forward. He fought to keep awake until Severus came back. It took a long moment for him to gather enough energy to think through what Draco said. He looked sideways at Draco, who smiled expectedly, and then tried to inconspicuously inch away from him. Without missing a beat, Draco sidled closer to him.

Harry sighed. His chin dropped onto his clavicle. "Look," he said tiredly, "I'm not trying to say that I hate you, I don't want to hurt your feelings, I don't--"

Draco's eyes popped wide. "You aren't breaking up with me are you?"

Harry sighed again and wondered if Harry2 was having a better time wrestling with a phoenix. "No," he said finally.

Draco smiled jubilantly and threw an arm around Harry's shoulder. He ignored Harry's tensing. "Sweetheart," he said.

"Don't call me that," Harry growled through gritted teeth. Draco ignored that too.

"You know the one thing I loved most about you?--besides that wonderful thing you could do with your hands, that is--I love the way you are always so calm and mild." Draco also loved the bright shade of red Harry turned whenever someone said something slightly too personal or embarrassing, but Draco decided it wisest not to mention that. "I have never known anyone to be as mild as you. I love the way you're always so calm. Well, it infuriated me at first, but I think it was the thing that helped me accept the love the potion made."

Harry sighed again.

"I know; this is an emotional moment, isn't it?" Draco dabbed at his own eyes.

"No." Harry looked at Draco. "It's just that you are not the Draco Malfoy I know. The Draco Malfoy that I know is arrogant, spoiled, and parrots his father."

Draco sniffed. "I like to think I moved beyond such childish behavior."

"But that is how I know you!" Harry dropped his feet and twisted around to face Draco. He crossed his legs and placed the palms of his hands on his knees. He squinted to get a better look at Draco. Without his glasses, most of Draco's features ran together into a colorful blob. "And then I go from knowing you as that brat, to you being this kind, open-minded, very touchy-feely older person who just think of me as some sort of gender I'm not!"

Draco looked at Harry for a long moment. He leaned forward and placed a hand on each of Harry's shoulders. "Harry," he said softly, "I do not think of you as a woman. Believe me, you are all man. First of all, I realize how utterly different we may be from one another, particularly if we're from different realms. But that doesn't matter, because you are you. Second of all, you probably think I think of you on the same terms as my Harry. On some levels, that is true. You are the same as my Harry in that you are both the Boy-Who-Lived. Though that was a matter neither of you could control, it formed you--both of you--into the man I love. But you are both different because of circumstances that changed your realities. That which is the same between you two is what I love. I know there are things different between you two, and I want to know those differences."

Harry blinked as Draco dropped his hands and leaned back. "Now, if you are uncomfortable with me touching you, tell me. I will try to keep my distance from you because it would make you feel better." Draco paused a moment. Harry could feel him struggle a moment to find the right words. "But, but you must know that I have missed you terribly. Death not only took you, but it also run amuck with my heart and I never saw it again." Draco smiled again at Harry. "But when I saw you and knew you were alive, even if you weren't, per say, my Harry, my heart came back. I was alive once more, and life wasn't just about trying to get rid of the Snake Bitch. It was also about living once more, because you were there to make me see all the wonders of the world! You make everything seem all the more worthwhile!"

Draco drew away from Harry. His cheerfulness disappeared and he looked at Harry sideways in a cool manner. "Of course," he said slyly, "if it makes you feel better, I could go back to being a bastard."

Harry thought about that for about two seconds. "No. Just don't--it's just that, well. I'm not used to people touching me."

"Oh." Draco frowned at Harry. "Do you mean to tell me I made that speech up just to hear how you don't want me to hug you!"

"Well, I might be open-minded about you touching me and all that if it weren't for a rather scaring incident with Professor Snape."

Draco's features swiftly went from pouting to a more closed, more cautious expression of a man who suspected the worst. "He did what." It was a flat statement rather than a question. The scar that stretched from Draco's temple to chin stood out lividly against his pale skin, but Harry could not see that. "Elaborate what you just said."

Harry nervously chewed the inside of his lip. "Professor Snape assaulted me in the men's bathroom?"

Draco turned his face from Harry. "I'll kill him," he muttered.

"He thought I was that reality's Ha--what did you just say?"

Draco stood up. "I'm going to kill him!"

A voice spoke behind them. "Kill who?"

Draco whirled around, his sword withdrawn in a single, fluid movement, to face Severus. "You! I'm going to kill you!"

Severus shrugged. "Too late." He looked beyond Draco to Harry. "I've got help here now," he said. He drifted upward to the top of the stones. He pointed down at Harry and Draco, and a shadow fell over them. Harry and Draco squinted up at the gigantic black eye.

"Professor Snape," Severus said patiently, "is here to carry both of you to Dumbledore. I expect you two to cooperate. The last thing you want to do is tempt him to use you both in his potions." Something long and thin the color of silver thrust into the crack. Harry and Draco eyed it suspiciously. Severus floated over to the thing and perched on top of it. "Follow me," he said as he drifted up the length.

Draco, pushing Harry in front of him, clambered to stand on it. After much slipping and sliding over the surprisingly smooth surface, they reached the top of the stone. Harry noticed how they had climbed up the end of a spoon. At least he thought it was a spoon. They stood on the edge of the stone's crack and gazed upward at unknown territories.

Harry squinted upward as Draco whistled and nudged him. "I never knew that Professor Snape was bum to the breeze himself!"

Severus appeared very suddenly before Draco. His entire countenance was a deep red. "Draco," he said through gritted teeth. "Any more barbs along the line of sex or clothes, and I will personally have myself step on you."

Draco ignored him as Professor Snape bent over and laid his hand palm-up beside Harry and Draco. Harry squinted at it and silently wished for his glasses. Draco grabbed him by the upper arm as Severus told both of them to get on Professor Snape's hand. "He's taking us to Dumbledore," Severus said in explanation.

No one said anything as Professor Snape carefully closed his fingers around Harry and Draco and then strode purposefully to Dumbledore's office. He tried to appear as if he were not at the beck and call of the tiny Severus who hovered near his ear.

Inside their cramped surroundings, Harry poked at the sallow skin. "He has cold hands," he said as he curled into a tight ball. His head tiredly rolled around as Draco leaned against one of Snape's curved finger and folded his arms behind his head. He looked at Harry.

"Tired?"

Harry propped one knee up and dropped his head onto it. He closed his eyes. "Exhausted."

"Ah." Draco looked at him a moment longer. "Well, don't fall asleep yet. Professor Snape will find Dumbledore in just a moment." He thoughtfully wiggled his toes within his shoes. "So tell me," he said, "what do you think is the most interesting thing about this reality-jumping stuff?" When Draco did not receive an answer, he glanced over at Harry, who was fast asleep. Draco sighed and knitted his fingers together. After a moment, he scooted close to Harry and carefully wrapped one arm around him. Draco grinned at nothing in particular as he pulled Harry close and settled Harry's head on his shoulder.

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Harry dreamed of a beautiful beachside. The copper-colored granules of sand were warm beneath his feet and the sun overheard was warm, but kind. The sapphire-blue ocean lapped gently at the shore of sand. On the other side of the sand was a forest bursting with emerald-green foliage and neon-bright flowers. Somewhere in it, birds sang melodiously, and bright butterflies flitted from open flower bud to open flower bud. He could see it all clearly without his glasses. Harry found himself smiling at the naturalistic beauty. He walked down the line of the beach and enjoyed the sunshine on his face.

Out over the ocean water, Harry saw something splash out of the water in a wide arch and dive back under. He froze and watched as a slim figure sprang from the depths of the waters, flip half over, and dived under once more. He stared at the water, but it remained smooth thereafter.

Harry resumed his walk in the bright day. The beach curved around as the green foliage crowded closer to it. He walked around the curve. Between the sand and the foliage, almost hidden by the tall bushes, was a large rock. Harry could see a bare foot flat on the rock. He thought he heard someone singing wordlessly. He slowly walked around the curve and peered beyond the bushes to see Pandora, wearing a light summer robe with her feet bare, seated on top of the rock in the sunshine. She silently brushed her black hair with an ivory brush.

She paused a moment to glance at Harry, and smiled at him. "Come here," she said. She pointed at a notch in the rock. "Sit down with your back facing me." He did as she told him, and then she ran her brush through his hair. It caught a few times in some knots in his unruly hair. Harry winced as she tugged the brush free and then ran it through his hair again. "I loved doing this to my daughters," she said softly. "Anastasia, Edwina, and I would sit outside in the sunshine and brush each other's hair while Francis would cook up some disaster in the kitchen. I wanted so desperately to do this to James' hair. It was always so tangled and I didn't care for such wildness."

Harry felt himself relaxing into the constant sweeping through his hair. His scalp tingled at his great-grandmother's administrations. It was a foreign feeling for someone to touch him in such a manner, but it was also comfortable and gentle. He closed his eyes and leaned into the movement of the brush. All the tenseness that had built up from the constant reality-jumping eased away.

"Why do you brush hair?" he asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"Severus the elder used to say your mother brushed her hair all the time, and then brushed your hair all the time."

"Because hair is meant to be brushed. Just as fingernails were meant to be bitten and noses are meant to be picked."

Harry opened his eyes. "What?" He twisted around to look at Pandora. She smiled sweetly at him. "Those are Francis' very words when Oliver asked him why I liked to brush hair," she said. She twirled her brush. "Turn around, Harry." He did so. She began to brush his hair again. "In truth, Harry, my mother was one of the Gwragedd Annwn."

"What are those?"

"Lake Maidens. People tended to see them when they sat upon the banks of their watery homes and brushed their hair. My mother rose from the Waters beyond Time and came into the mortal world. She was curious about mankind and was a very young thing by many standards. She met my father, Severus Snape, and married him. She was satisfied to dwell with him for several years after I was born, but slowly began to yearn for her people and home. When I was sixteen, she left for the home. Da thought she died, and she may have well done so, because she never meant to come back to him or I."

Harry frowned. "Lake Maidens? Then you're only half human?"

"But you too have this non-human quality. It was very apparent in James whenever he flew. I loved to watch him fly, because though air was his element, he took to it as if he were in water."

"Uncle Severus said he could swim but he never knew him to do it before."

Pandora paused in her brushing. "You expect a person with blood of a water creature to be incapable of swimming?"

Harry thought about that logic. "Um, no." Pandora resumed her brushing.

"The Lake Maidens have magical abilities to heal. James made me promise to live for you and Severus. I thought you were dead, but Severus was alive, and I had to live for him, so I went to my mother's people to be healed." Pandora sighed. "And then Severus died. Were it not for you, I would have no purpose for life."

"What about Francis?" Harry twisted around to look at Pandora again. "He's alive. Wouldn't you come back to him?"

For the first time since he had seen her in this dream, Pandora looked sad. She gently put her brush down on the rock's surface and hugged her knees close to her chest. "The world changed too much for my dear Francis," she whispered as she gazed out over the waters. "I thought I lost him, but now he's back, and there is no way I can go to him."

"Can't you jump like you did last time?"

Pandora shook her head. "Oh Harry, were it only that simple! No, even had I any magic to Jump with, I could not unless there's someone to catch me."

Harry rose to his knees. "Grandmother, I could catch you."

She smiled at him. "You're sweet." She patted him on the head and then shook a finger at him. "It's rude to interrupt, darling." She dropped her chin to the top of her knees. "I don't have the strength to Jump. Even if you knew how to catch me, I couldn't make it across the barriers."

"What if we used your box?"

Pandora unfolded her legs. She reached out and gently grabbed Harry's shoulders. "It's not that easy, Harry. What is in my box should only be used during an emergency because the power is tainted and I have nothing left. I used most of my power to strip and seal Tom Riddle's power, and then I burned everything else Jumping." She paused a moment to swallow. Tears began to form in her eyes. "I shouldn't have. That Jump cost me too much. I have no magic left, even here. I should have died in Dinsmore for all that I have actually managed to do."

Harry shook his head. "But those dreams I had. What of them?"

"Power that allows me to manifest. All of the magic used was foreign, and I even had to use some of your own. I'm sorry, my dear." Pandora drew Harry into a fierce hug. "All I can give you is a limited amount of information. Just enough to help you unravel the mystery of why you are doing this and to push you on the way to finding a good Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle is the only one who has the strength to stop himself, no one else. You are the key to leading him back, because you are a catalyst who will force the decision on him. Voldemort has always been curious of you, because you are something that defies his logic. Tom Riddle will follow you because he is what Voldemort could have been, and that curiosity and logic will always remain no matter who he is. I can only show you the path you must take."

"But Grandmother--"

"No. Don't say a word." Pandora planted a kiss on the top of his head. "The power I have to borrow to reach you comes and goes sporadically. It's only just strong enough for me to reach out to you, and you do the rest by answering my Call." She pulled away from him. "I haven't been able to tell you much, because there is that which controls what I say in exchange of the magic. But here is a place where it can only limit my words. You cannot remain here for long because the longer you are here, the less of a chance you have to leave. We are beyond Time, beyond all realities, and if you do not leave soon you may never find your way back. Tell Francis that what may be must be."

Harry stared into Pandora's eyes. "What about Cousin Quigley?" he asked.

Her eyes flashed angrily and all gentleness of her body disappeared. Harry was taken aback by the sudden flare of fury. Pandora leaned close to him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulder again. Her fingers dug painfully into his shoulder. "He's a fool," she whispered, "but he loves Severus. And while Cousin Quigley is very important, he himself will tell you why. When he reaches you, and Severus is there, you tell Cousin Quigley I want him to tell Severus exactly how close the two are."

Harry blinked in confusion. "But they're father and son, right?"

"Yes." The word was slow. "Ask Cousin Quigley where he and Severus met each other before Dinsmore."

Harry's eyes widened. "Where?"

And then he woke up.

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It was Professor Snape's opening his hand and abruptly dropping both Draco and Harry onto the charcoaled mass of wood that had once been Dumbledore's desk that woke Harry up. Harry glanced around himself in tired confusion as Draco looked up to see Dumbledore staring down at them with genuine surprise.

Harry looked over at the middle of the charcoaled desk where the blur of Fawkes was collapsed in an exhausted pile of feathers. The phoenix lifted his head to peer tiredly at Harry and Draco. Harry and Draco tensed. Fawkes blinked once, and then tucked his head under his wing. Beside Fawkes were two large pink eggs. Slumped on top of one of the eggs was a ragged-looking Harry2, who was asleep and therefore blissfully unaware of the audience that stared at him.

Severus drifted down to float beside Harry and Draco. All three of them exchanged looks. Above them, Professor Snape turned to Dumbledore.

"Do I even want to know why there are two eggs next to Fawkes?"

Dumbledore smiled sheepishly. "Well, it would appear Fawkes shall have children."

They stared at the eggs for a long while. Professor Snape looked at Dumbledore again. "Is Fawkes the father?"

Dumbledore shrugged and shuffled his feet. "Well, yes, Fawkes is the father. I'd go as far as to say Fawkes is even the mother, but I‘m unsure of how that came to be."

Another long moment passed. Professor Snape gave Dumbledore a disbelieving look. "How is that possible for a male phoenix to lay eggs?"

"I have no idea." Dumbledore began to walk around to the other side of his desk. Something crunched loudly beneath his foot. A wave of green and baby-blue power swept through the room and ripped at hanging tapestries. Pain exploded in Harry's scar and he fell to his knees under the harsh assault. Fawkes squawked and soared into the air. Harry2 rolled off his egg and woke up when he landed on his head. He sat up with his hand pressed over his scar. The power faded abruptly afterwards. Harry's pain disappeared as well, only to be replaced with nausea and a dull ache between his shoulder blades.

Something else cracked, but it was not underfoot. Heads turned and saw the egg Harry2 had been sleeping on shaking about. Fine cracks appeared in its surface and grew steadily wider until one piece of the eggshell broke free and fell away. A few more followed after it. A head, covered in slime and goop, slowly peeked out of the shell.

Francis Potter wiped egg white out of his eyes and peered around.

He climbed out of the egg, tripped once over the layer of shell, and attempted to clean his glasses with a slimy corner of his mucky sleeve. "Um." He looked around as his fellow reality-jumpers, and then upward at Dumbledore and Professor Snape. He ducked and covered his head as Fawkes flew overhead to perch upon Dumbledore's shoulder. Francis squinted at Harry2 as the fire demon leaned against the other egg. "I admit that I've always had a rather large curiosity about the how of things but . . ." He looked long and hard at the egg from which he had just emerged, and then pointed at it. "But there is no bloody way I really want to know how I managed to get swallowed by Fawkes and then regurgitated backwards in an egg!"