Lily's Charm

1996

"I will be fine," Severus told him calmly.

Harry stared at his father, his lower lip wedged painfully between his teeth. Since he'd stepped out of his father's Floo, he had wanted to blurt out what he'd only just discovered this afternoon. He wanted to say it now, but his throat felt as though he would never use it again, and his mouth was absolutely dry.

It sounded too final, and Harry didn't want anything about this night to be final. For the first time in his life, Harry had somebody that was his. As much as he'd loved Sirius, this was different. Severus was here, had been here when Harry had needed him. The thought of losing him now... Well, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to bear it. Not this time. He loved him, and more than anything... right now, he needed to say it.

His father was watching him, his eyes shadowed, and Harry's anxiety almost wouldn't allow him to speak. Clearing his thoughts and ordering his storm to gentle, Harry took a deep breath. "I need you to know something before you go," he told his father shakily. Severus nodded immediately, and Harry felt another rush of love for the man's easy acceptance of everything that had happened between them... his father's acceptance of him.

"I didn't realize it before..." Harry began slowly, "not until I watched Malfoy today. I understood why he would agree to anything Voldemort asked... He loves Lucius."

Harry looked away from his father's obsidian gaze. Gathering his courage about him, Harry found his father's eyes again, which were waiting patiently, and Harry relaxed. "Just like I love you," he finished, surprised at how steady the words sounded.

The black eyes softened with warmth. Severus stepped toward Harry. His fingers curled as they reached out, and then, he was gently brushing Harry's errant fringe aside. Harry's eyes prickled with the familiar touch.

His father's hand kept moving until he was cupping the back of Harry's head. Not even waiting for his father to complete the motion, Harry leaned forward so that his forehead was resting against the soft robes. He listened to the deep rumble of his father's chest as Severus said quietly, "Albus used to tell me that you had an incredible capacity to love. I do not deserve it, but I am grateful for it, nonetheless."

Harry didn't even try to respond. He was well past the ability to push through the emotions in his chest. He simply stayed against his father's robes, allowing the scent of cloves to soothe him.

--

Harry was trying to enjoy himself, he really was, but his thoughts were stuck firmly with his father, and he wondered again if the Dark Mark had burned, yet. He knew perfectly well that it had been better that he'd come here and left his father to his solitude; Severus' mind would be much clearer if he was alone when Voldemort called his followers. But even though he knew it, Harry still wished he was back in his father's quarters.

At least, the other Gryffindors were having fun, Harry thought gloomily as he watched the students moving lithely to the raucous music. Well, not all the Gryffindors, he corrected as he watched Ron and Hermione swaying slightly with the rhythm. It was easy to tell that their hearts just weren't in it. Ron kept looking around anxiously as though he expected Death Eaters to come flying at them at any second.

Shacklebolt and Moody had already removed the seventh-year Slytherin threat; the three students were being held under guard of several Order members. Illegally, of course, but that didn't seem to concern any of the adults, who assured Harry that the Ministry Aurors would want them in their custody before long. Preemptive strike, Tonks had told him cheerfully. Harry hadn't argued.

Ginny was leaning up against him, her head tucked under Harry's chin. His arms tightened around her as he thought of the Slytherins, and he wished for the hundredth time that both she and Ron had taken their mother up on her plan to remove them from Hogwarts. Hermione, too, he amended as he glanced over to his bushy-haired friend. She, at least, seemed more at ease than her ginger-haired escort. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen his friend so jumpy. He was worse than Malfoy.

At the thought of Malfoy, Harry's eyes reflexively scanned the crowd. He saw the blond Slytherin dancing with Parkinson. She was smiling happily while Malfoy looked about to sick up. Harry felt another surge of... concern, he supposed he would call it, for Malfoy. With a sigh, he moved his eyes from the other boy and then froze as he spotted Shacklebolt, just coming through the doors to the Great Hall.

--

Severus put his fingers automatically over his left arm as he felt the slight burn of the Dark Lord's call. He cast a careful Stasis Charm over his cauldron and moved with calm steps toward the fireplace. He closed his mind with slow precision, and when he was satisfied, he reached for the box of Floo powder on the mantle. Using just a bit of the green, glittery grains, Severus called for Albus' office.

He looked out into the headmaster's office. Albus looked up, his blue eyes dark.

"It is time," Severus informed him, his voice void of emotion.

Albus nodded, and Severus saw nothing but acceptance in the old man's face. "Take care of yourself, Severus."

Severus nodded automatically and pulled his head back into his quarters. Without hesitation, he stepped fully into the fireplace and threw down another small pinch of powder. He watched, without interest, as the rooms flashed by. When he saw Lucius' parlor, he stepped carefully through the flames.

--

Shacklebolt moved swiftly through the throng of students. Harry's heart seized. Shacklebolt stopped when he reached McGonagall, and McGonagall smiled somewhat grimly. Shacklebolt turned away again and melted back into the crowd.

McGonagall started moving forward, toward Harry and Ginny. Remus and Tonks both stiffened. Ginny pulled back from Harry's chest. Harry closed his eyes briefly and shored up his shields, preparing himself for whatever the professor had to say.

McGonagall didn't waste any time. "They've captured half a dozen Death Eaters," she informed them in clipped tones. Turning to Tonks, she said curtly, "Nymphadora, Shacklebolt needs your assistance."

Tonks didn't even react to her hated given name. She simply quickly squeezed Remus' hand before she began weaving herself among the dancing students to catch up to Shacklebolt.

"They got through, then?" Remus asked intently, but McGonagall shook her head.

"The Aurors ambushed them in Hogsmeade, as soon as they Apparated in."

Remus looked relieved, though Harry's heart had begun to beat faster as he listened. Voldemort would realize, all too soon, that he had failed. And someone would have to pay for the mistakes of the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade.

"They've already begun questioning them. The Slytherins have been indicated, just as Severus said they would be."

Harry felt a tremor run through his body at the mention of his father's name. Nobody, except Ginny, seemed to notice. She put her arm around Harry's waist and drew him to her.

"Professor Lupin," Harry heard Ginny saying, and then, Remus was standing in front of him.

"Harry," Remus said gently, "I'll take you back to your father's quarters."

Harry nodded, not really listening. He felt Ginny's small hand in his. She tugged a bit, and they began walking forward. He was vaguely aware that Ron and Hermione were trailing behind them. And he could feel Remus' steady presence beside him, as well.

Each step through the corridors was pounded cruelly into Harry's skull. By the time they reached Dumbledore's office, his temples were aching with the force of his fear.

"Harry," the headmaster greeted quietly as soon as they entered the round office. "How are you doing, my boy?" he inquired, sounding very kind.

Harry, almost numb by this point, could only shrug. Dumbledore seemed to understand. He patted Harry lightly on the shoulder.

"Harry," Ginny whispered. Harry's eyes found their focus again as Ginny moved in front of him. "It's going to be all right," she soothed him, and again, he could only nod. Ginny kissed him gently on his cheek, still holding on to his hands.

And then, he heard McGonagall's sharp order for his three friends to, 'come along'. They followed her out of the office, and Harry wondered pointlessly where Moody had come from as he watched the grizzled ex-Auror stumping along behind the Gryffindors.

"Ready, Harry?" Remus was asking, and Harry turned as though under the Imperius Curse and followed his friend into the Floo. Harry thought he probably should have been surprised that Dumbledore stepped in with them, but he didn't think he was really feeling much of anything, right then.

Harry watched as the rooms whizzed past them on their way to his father's sitting room, not having any idea where he was supposed to get out. He was sure he must have felt some gratitude toward Remus, or perhaps Dumbledore, as he actually managed to step out into the familiar sitting room, smiling slightly as he recognized his mother's sofa.

"That was my mother's, you know, Remus," he told his friend.

Strange, he mused...,His voice sounded... strange.

"Sleeping Draught... in bed... gently..."

Harry heard the words, but didn't really understand them, and he saw no reason to protest as something was pressed up to his lips. He obediently opened his mouth and sucked back the slightly foul liquid. Harry felt himself beginning to fade, and as the room grew dimmer, he hoped briefly that his father wouldn't mind that he had fallen asleep in Remus' arms.

--

Lucius and Narcissa were waiting. Lucius' face was a sea of tranquil calm while Narcissa stood by his side, wringing her hands.

"Everything is prepared?" Lucius asked serenely.

"It is," Severus answered blandly. Without sparing a glance for his wife, Lucius nodded and stepped forward. Severus pivoted on his heel, and the two of them were moving forward together, their boots clicking on the hard stone floor as they marched out into the night.

Together, they turned on the spot.

Distortion flowed into reality as they appeared in the Dark Lord's large circle. It had grown since the last time Severus had stood here. He watched without interest as the last few Death Eaters materialized into the bleak gathering. The night was empty, void of sound. Even the breaths of those assembled were silent.

The Dark Lord turned his crimson gaze around the circle of Death Eaters. "My followers have failed me, once again," he informed them coldly, and a shudder ran through the assemblage, but Severus felt himself relax at the Dark Lord's words.

Harry was safe, his buried thoughts whispered amongst themselves. He readied himself as he watched the Dark Lord, just as he'd promised his son he would. The Dark Lord looked particularly malicious.

"It is a pity, really," the Dark Lord intoned, his disgustingly vacant lips twisting into a smile of mockery. "I had so hoped your son could join us, Severus."

Paying no attention to the shock of Voldemort's words, Severus reached for his wand. And then, he went completely rigid as his wand flew into Voldemort's outstretched fingers. Even as his knees were wrenched down toward the dirt, Severus forced himself to stay calm, thinking of Harry as he did. Severus began silently chanting a string of Latin, willing himself to end the tingling sensation that had encapsulated his body. And then, the side of Severus' face exploded in pain, and the back of his head smashed into the ground.

There was a sickening, almost hazy crack before the booted foot lashed out, and again, pain reverberated throughout Severus' skull. Another foot smashed against his face, and then, another rocked his ribs violently. Something hard smashed up against his nose, and Severus vaguely felt the warm trail of blood as it seeped through his open lips.

Blinding light flashed in his eyes as two hard boot heels pummeled into his flesh; Severus could no longer see. But he wouldn't need to see...

Severus pushed the pain away, down through his shields, trying desperately to concentrate as more and more of his comrades joined the assault. Agony split his mind from his body until there was nothing else. No more resistance.

"Harry", he moaned. His flames were faltering, and he knew Voldemort could see everything. But it didn't matter anymore. There was nothing left to hide.

And then, that cold voice Severus had heard in his dreams, directed dispassionately, "Dispose of him, Lucius."

The assault ended as unexpectedly as it had begun. Severus heard the crunch of his own bones as someone stepped unconcernedly on his wrist.

"My pleasure, my Lord," agreed Lucius' well-bred voice. His breath was warm against Severus' mangled face now, and Severus barely felt the tip of the other man's wand as it traveled seductively up his chest, taunting him until coming to rest silently at Severus' throat.

Through the smoke and ashes of his dead flames, Severus felt a deep stab of regret that he had never told his son aloud that he loved him.

--

Harry!

Harry's eyes flew open. The voice did not belong to Voldemort. It was his father, crying out for him.

Yes, Harry. Hear your father's screams.

Losing temporary control of his motor functions, Harry tried to get up, his legs locking in panic. Voldemort knew. And he was going to kill his father.

"No!" Harry shouted as he scrambled out of bed. Panic gripped him, and he stumbled over his own feet as he attempted to force himself off the bed, falling hard on the stone floor. Not even feeling the sharp pains that stabbed at his back and legs, Harry shot back up and dashed toward the sitting room. He heard the familiar sound of the Floo, and Harry felt a tingling hope fill his chest. His father had gotten out, just like he'd promised.

He halted to a stop when he saw only Remus. He was facing the Floo, and Harry knew instantly that it hadn't been someone coming, but someone leaving. His breath caught as Remus turned to face him, and Harry went cold.

"Where is he, Remus?" Harry demanded, his voice high and unnatural.

"Harry..."

"Where is he?" Harry repeated shrilly. Remus sagged.

"In the Hospital Wing. But Harry..."

Harry didn't listen to another word, racing into the Floo, not even waiting for Remus as he flung down the powder, and he was pulled to the Hospital Wing in the next instant. The bed farthest from the Floo was surrounded by people, whose faces Harry didn't stop to identify.

His heart hammering in his throat, Harry shoved bodies out of his way, gasping harshly as soon as he saw his father. His face was purpled with bruises, his eyes swollen completely shut. Severus' limbs were splayed out at sickening angles, and Harry's stomach turned violently.

"No," Harry moaned desolately. "Dad?" he cried, not caring who heard him, now.

But there was no answer, not even a twitch from his father's still form, and Harry, in purest desperation, grabbed the front of his father's robes in his fists. "You promised, dammit!" Harry shouted furiously, shaking Severus as hard as he could. "You promised you wouldn't die!"

And then, as the past two months washed over him like a viscous acid, Harry let all his barriers fall, and the years of grief engulfed him, submerging him into a place he was likely never to rise from.

Harry began to cry, in raw, agonizing sobs, as he bent over the man he was just beginning to love; he buried his face in Severus' chest.

"You promised, Dad," Harry whispered hoarsely, his voice muffled against his father's Death Eater robes.