Lily's Charm

1996

"Ireland," Ron objected, scoffing as Harry attempted to pick the winner for next year's Quidditch Cup, while Hermione continued to huff at their lack of study skills. Ginny had long since given up studying to argue with both of them about Ireland's prospects.

"Ireland was good enough last year," Harry insisted, grinning at his friend's disgruntled look. The laughter died half-formed in his throat as his father's flame burned him. It scorched against his storm with a terror he'd never imagined he could feel.

"Dad!" he cried out, his eyes going wide with the fear that was gripping him. It was all he could feel, the emotion almost forcing him to double over in agony.

"Harry?" Ginny demanded fearfully, but Harry ignored her, propelling himself upward unsteadily, knocking his book to the floor with a clap. His mind numbing with waves of panic, Harry fumbled for his robe, which he'd draped over the arm of the sofa earlier, clumsily trying to find the pocket where he still kept the little box of Floo powder which his father had insisted he keep with him. But what if he wasn't in their quarters? He could be anywhere...

Harry turned frantically to Ginny. "Go find Remus or Dumbledore. Something's wrong with my dad," he told her, almost choking on the words as they flooded out. Without waiting for her answer, he turned back to his robe.

He clawed pointlessly at the black material. And then small, deft hands were moving his aside and the box was opened for him. Harry paid little attention to the help, as he grabbed up the powder, the tiny granules spilling as his fingers shook. He shoved past the bodies nearest to him, even the one that seemed to want to stay with him. He ran wildly into the fireplace, croaking the call for his father's rooms.

The flames burst around him as he flung the powder to the floor and he felt himself pulled up, the sensation mingling strangely with his dread. The Floo network seemed to barely move, the rooms crawling by in slow motion. The impression of fear and now grief were painful as he waited. Harry was just beginning to feel desperate when he was finally ejected from the Floo and into his sitting room, almost losing his footing. He looked around frantically, his heart stilling when he saw his dad.

"Dad?" he yelled out in fright, stumbling toward his father even as Severus slithered down the back of the chair. Harry reached him in seconds, sliding his arm under Severus' armpit and around his back, to steady him just as Severus' knees thwacked against the stones. Harry used his other hand to push up against his father's chest, refusing to let him slump over. "Dad?" he demanded again, his voice jagged with fear.

He heard the Floo behind them and he turned a little, his arms heavy with their burden. Remus stepped through, his eyes going wide at the sight of the two of them. "What happened?" he asked anxiously but Harry could only shake his head wordlessly as he levered his father to sit awkwardly against the side of the chair.

It felt as if his whole mouth was filled with cotton wool. Remus came quickly to them, kneeling beside Harry. "Albus called me," he explained breathlessly as he leaned toward Severus, studying him briefly. He waved his wand once over the other man. "He's fainted," he added. Pointing his wand toward the lab, he called, "Accio Reviving Potion." A vial sailed out to them. He barely paused as he spelled the contents into Severus.

Severus' eyes slid open.

The black filled instantly with terror and Harry's heart ripped through his chest in response. And then his father's eyes widened and without warning, Severus grabbed Harry's arms and pulled him sharply forward.

"Harry," his father gurgled roughly, his eyes wild now.

"Severus, what's going on?" Remus asked, his voice strained, but Severus' eyes would not leave Harry. "I'll get Poppy," Remus decided quickly.

"No," Severus commanded sharply, stopping Remus as he turned. Harry continued to stare at his dad, his limbs frozen in fright.

"What's wrong?" he chattered. Severus yanked Harry to him, his hands a vice against his arms. The embrace chilled him. "Dad?" Harry's anxiety was quickly making him feel ill. "What's wrong?" he repeated, his voice wobbly.

"Albus sent me here, Severus," Remus interjected quietly. "He looked terrible. What did he say to you?" he questioned, his voice very soft.

There was no answer and Harry tugged against his father's hold, feeling his father's indecision clearly. Severus let him pull himself free. Harry narrowed his eyes, trying without much success to ignore the pain he felt radiating from his father.

"What did he tell you?" he echoed Remus' question, disliking the childish quality in his tone. Dumbledore must have had some awful news--news about Harry... "Is it Voldemort...he's finally coming, isn't he?" he surmised, his voice ringing with trepidation at the thought. But his father said nothing.

"No, he isn't." Remus shook his head. "I would have heard about it from Tonks," he said firmly. When Severus still didn't answer, Remus demanded impatiently, "Severus, what the hell's happened? Did Albus discover another Horcrux?" he asked, sounding ridiculously desperate to Harry's ears in his plea for understanding. Severus blinked and Harry's stomach twisted.

"Something's wrong with one of the Horcruxes. It can't be destroyed?" Harry guessed after a beat, realizing that if they couldn't use the Charm, the inability to destroy a Horcrux would be devastating. When an affirmation flashed in the obsidian depths, Harry shivered.

Remus saw it as well, but he shook his head in confusion. "But of course they can be destroyed, Severus," he argued. "We simply need to have all of them first so Voldemort won't be alerted."

Severus' eyes flashed in sudden anger as he turned to glare at Remus. Remus' brow furrowed in further confusion. Harry looked between them.

"What's going on?" he asked quickly, noting that the flame had shadowed itself a bit, and that made Harry more suspicious than anything else would have. "What did Dumbledore tell you?" he asked again. Severus' gaze slid back to Harry. And then he was moving to sit up.

Harry wanted to ask him if he thought that was wise, insist that he hold still, but his father's face stopped him--grim determination like a hollowed-out core echoed there. So he simply offered his father his hand and surprisingly, Severus accepted it, allowing Harry to pull him to his feet. The acceptance made Harry even more anxious. Something was very wrong here...

As soon as Severus was on his feet again, he moved his hand from Harry's and using a feathered touch, he moved it to Harry's elbow and steered him toward the sofa. Harry, too stunned to protest, moved with his father. Why was he acting as if Harry was about to break? Severus guided him to sit and then with a quick glance at Remus which held nothing but sorrow, he sat as well. And again, Harry shivered.

--

Remus watched with slowly-creeping dread as Severus took Harry's elbow. With fragile movements, Severus showed Harry the way to the sofa, settling him against the cushions as though it had been Harry who had just collapsed, unannounced, on the dungeon floor. And then Severus looked over to him and Remus felt ice spread from his chest to his fingertips.

Sorrow, gaping and raw, shined out through the black eyes. There was only one thing that could possibly make Severus Snape look like that. Remus sat heavily in the chair opposite; his entire body felt as if it had been filled with sand. He would only realize later that Severus hadn't ordered him to leave.

Severus turned back to Harry, the sorrow shifting again. "Harry," he began, his voice much too strained to sound anything close to normal, "do you recall asking me what it meant that your scar hurt when Albus took the locket?"

Remus hadn't spoken with Severus since they'd been at Highlands Cottage. He watched in confusion as Harry nodded warily. "But you said it didn't mean anything," Harry reminded him. Severus shook his head and Remus found himself watching in fascination as Severus' large hand closed over Harry's, which was perched on Harry's knee. Harry's gaze traveled there as well. And then Harry's eyes widened in something like panic.

"But I was shielding!" he protested as his eyes went back to Severus. "I was, I-"

"I know, Harry," Severus interrupted him, his voice course now; Harry closed his mouth slowly. "I had thought it was the locket reacting to your scar," Severus told him.

"It wasn't?" Harry asked, tilting his head a bit in perplexity. Severus hesitated, his fingers flexing over Harry's.

"I believe it was reacting to you," he said slowly and Harry didn't look any less confused though his other hand came to rest atop his father's, likely in response to whatever he could feel from Severus through their connection. Harry's gesture seemed to hurt the other man as his speech stumbled, "Albus-Albus just informed me..."

Harry leaned forward, his eyes intent. "Just tell me. Whatever it is, it can't be that horrible, Dad." Severus closed his eyes. "Dad?" Harry demanded, beginning to sound panicked again. Severus' eyes opened.

"When Voldemort gave you that scar, he left a piece of himself in you."

Remus couldn't stop the gasp at this pronouncement. Harry--a Horcrux! "Are you certain, Severus?" he asked shakily, not really meaning to interrupt, but Severus didn't even seem to care. He nodded, his eyes not leaving Harry's face.

"Albus has suspected it for years," he confirmed. Remus slumped in his chair, bringing a trembling hand to his lips. No...

"What does that mean?" Harry demanded, looking between them again, his eyes frightened and confused as Remus and Severus both stared at him.

Severus' face contorted a bit as he answered, "You're a Horcrux, Harry." Remus felt tears forming as he listened to Severus strangle out the death sentence. Harry's mouth fell open.

"But...how can I be..." His fingers tore against Severus' hand. "But you can get rid of it, right? Like the others...just destroy the bit of soul, can't you?" he asked, his voice rising. Severus jaw stiffened and Remus felt sure he was trying not to allow his emotions to betray him.

"It wouldn't work, Harry," Remus intervened and he saw Severus sag with the words. "The vessel--the vessel has be destroyed..." He couldn't finish though as Harry paled, and his own throat contracted.

"Then...I have to..." morbid understanding dawned on his face, "...that's what the prophecy means," he whispered.

"No!" Severus interjected loudly, making Harry jump, but Severus didn't lower his voice. "I will not allow it."

"But the prophecy has to come true, doesn't it? You won't be able to stop it." Harry's voice was still a mere whisper and even Remus could feel the horrible waves of anxiety pouring off both of them. And then Harry leaned forward, looking almost eager.

"But what about Mum's Charm? Can't that get rid of the piece in me?"

Remus leaned forward, the hope blossoming in his chest, but just as quickly, it shriveled again. Severus was shaking his head, and immediately Remus understood the hesitation.

"You have to be in physical contact with Voldemort to activate it," Remus told him, trying to spare Severus from having to say it. "And if it doesn't work, you'll-" the word caught in his throat, but Harry understood as well--Remus could see his hands fisted in his lap underneath both of Severus' now.

"But I'll die anyway. The prophecy-"

"Sybil's prophecy has ruled your life for too long," Severus said furiously. "I will not allow it to be true!" Though it was clear the anger wasn't directed at him, Harry bristled.

"You can't just order it to be false," he snapped.

"Yes, I can," Severus retorted, the claim utterly irrational. Harry glared at him.

"Let's just try the damn Charm, then!" he yelled furiously, right into his father's face.

"The Charm will not work!" Severus shouted right back, his own face going red and though Remus was tempted to intervene again as this news was about to cause both men to snap, Harry gave him no chance to help.

"How do you know if you won't even try?" he returned, his voice rising as his face moved closer to Severus'.

"I will not try something that will get you killed!" The shout had trailed off to a rasp, but Harry didn't seem to notice. He shot to his feet.

"What am I supposed to do then?" he demanded, flinging his arms into the air to punctuate his words. "Walk around with a piece of Voldemort inside me for the rest of my life?" His voice was pierced through with sarcasm.

"Yes," Severus spat. "I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself."

Harry stared at his father, his cheeks bright with determination. "I'm not going to live the rest of my life hiding--waiting for Voldemort to come for me," he retorted.

Severus shook his head; his black eyes were burning with his resolve. "We will leave. Albus can continue on his little crusade alone," he continued bitterly. "The destruction of the other Horcruxes-"

Harry's hands fisted again. "It won't stop! You know it won't," he interrupted furiously. "It won't matter how many Horcruxes he destroys. Voldemort will find some way to come back. You heard the prophecy. Neither can live...this is what it meant! He can't be dead if he's still inside me. You can't stop this just because you're frightened."

"Harry, you do not understand," Severus started to say. His voice was quiet again, and it sounded more like a plea, but Harry wasn't interested in listening anymore.

"Yeah, I do understand," he interrupted hotly. "You'd rather I be haunted by Voldemort than try the Charm. Everyone is always making choices for me. First Dumbledore and now you, and I'm sick of it," he said heatedly.

"Harry..."

Harry shook his head, refusing to allow Severus to finish. "I just want this to be over," he told the two men, sounding more resigned now than angry, though his volume had not leveled off. Before Severus had a chance to respond, Harry turned and stalked from the room, and Severus and Remus stared after him until the bedroom door thudded behind him.

They were silent as they listened to the dull echo throughout the rooms. Remus and Severus simply sat there, though there was no telling how long the silence filled the room. Remus, not sure what to do or how much his next words would be seen as interference, finally turned his head slightly to study the Potions Master. He was astonished to see that Severus had completely deflated. There was a not a trace of anger in his face, only desolation.

"We can find a way to ensure that the Charm-"

"The Charm will make no difference," Severus said flatly, his lips almost still.

"You don't know-"

"Yes. I do." Severus held no inflection. "Voldemort's soul is bound with Harry's, not only as a Horcrux but with Lily's Charm and if we banish Voldemort's soul...Harry's will go with it." Severus' voice had become a whisper; a chill ran through Remus as he sat there beside him. Severus finally turned to him, his eyes dark with undisguised fury. "Now do you understand?" he asked harshly. Harry, without a soul...as though he'd been Kissed by the same Dementors... It was unthinkable.

"After all this..." Remus whispered hoarsely, ignoring the other's man's venom, "...after all this and the Charm is useless."

Remus could almost hear the other man swallow. "I cannot lose him."

But Remus had no idea what to say to comfort him. To Remus, the thought of losing his friend was unbearable; he couldn't even fathom the depth of a father's pain at the idea of losing his son. Of Severus' pain... Losing Harry...

"But Voldemort won't stop," Remus told him, unable to keep the matching misery from his own voice. "And if he suspects Harry is a Horcrux, he'll put all his efforts into activating that part of his soul..."

"Yes," Severus intoned, staring at the Floo.

"And Harry won't let this go. He'll find some way to go to Voldemort." Remus realized he was beginning to sound frantic but somehow, he seemed to be losing control of his own voice, as well as thoughts he didn't mean to voice, and he expected Severus to whirl around and snap at him. But Severus's face was blank now.

"I know."

Fear was finally breaking through Severus' carefully constructed façade again as his voice trembled. Remus closed his eyes, his own pain bubbling toward the surface; tears filled his eyes. He knew he should call them back, but he just didn't care enough to stop a display that would surely make Severus uncomfortable. But Severus didn't even notice. He was watching the Floo, as though desperately seeking answers there.

"You have to explain it to him," Remus finally said, not even caring anymore that it wasn't his place to tell Severus what to do with his son. But it was obvious Harry hadn't understood what was happening and Remus wasn't certain Severus would leave the sofa if Remus didn't bodily force him, but without even hesitating, Severus nodded, his eyes dull. After a short minute, he rose slowly from the sofa, seeming to have aged decades in the past minutes, the movement was so creaky.

And wishing he didn't have to, Remus stood as well. What he wouldn't give to have Tonks' arms around him right now and then with another wave of anguish, he remembered that she didn't know about any of this. He would have to deal with this alone...

Severus turned slightly toward Harry's room. He paused, making Remus still his own exit toward the Floo. "Harry will want you to stay." There was no bitterness in Severus' words, no accusation. It was almost acceptance. Without waiting for a response, Severus shifted again and walked with leaden steps from the room.

Remus sank again into the depths of the chair. His heart ached for both of them; there was no solution, no answer to this horror. Remus hung his face into his hands and with silent tears, his shoulders began to shake as he thought of his two friends and what they were all about to go through.

--

When there was no answer to his light knock, Severus pushed the door open cautiously, worried that it hadn't been enough time for his son's justifiable anger to have abated. But Harry was asleep, sitting up against the headboard where he must have flung himself in a fit of temper. His head was flopped over at a very uncomfortable-looking angle, his glasses slipping down his nose. And Severus was instantly relieved. He did not have to have this conversation yet. How was he supposed to explain that there was no recourse? That it was hopeless?

Severus' features softened as he took in Harry's haphazard position as he moved over to the bed, but Severus' face immediately froze as he stepped closer. The lids behind the glasses were puffy. Lily's photo album was flung open next to Harry, the space where a photo should have been was empty, the page mangled. And clutched in Harry's left hand was the missing picture, the edges curling with his fingers.

Severus peeled the photo gently from the desperate fingers. His chest tightened with grief. It was one of the few photos that had ever captured Severus smiling. He could remember that moment...as though it was yesterday.

Harry had been barely two months old and Lily had just finished bundling him up for the night in his pyjamas. Severus had taken Harry from her, settling into Lily's rocking chair as James hovered around as always with the camera, irking Severus.

Harry had begun watching Severus carefully as soon as his mother had transferred him, his green eyes bright. Then Harry had smiled up at him, his first real smile. Severus, admittedly delightedly by the unexpected expression, had smiled as well, his lips curling automatically--and he hadn't even minded when James had caught it all. James...

He owed everything to him.

Pushing down his aching thoughts, Severus reached over and carefully picked up the album, moving it to the end of the bed. With the same gentle movements, he slipped his son's glasses off and fitting his arm around Harry's back, Severus slid him down so that his head rested on his pillow, not even jostling the sleeping boy. And with a quick flick of his wand, Harry was in nightclothes.

Severus gently brought the blanket up to his son's chest. He brushed a hand over Harry's brow. The gesture made him feel ill. He turned away abruptly from the horrid contentment.

James' Pensieve stared back at him. Keeping his gaze on the gifted receptacle, Severus dimmed the lights. He placed the wrinkled photo next to the Pensieve, his hand brushing over the roughened bowl.

Desperately wanting a distraction from his dire thoughts, Severus reached his wand down into the Pensieve's depths and swirled the silver around gently. And just as he had before, James rose up again, his face pinched in uncharacteristic worry. And this time, Severus urged him to speak.

James wasted no time as he blurted, "It was a lie, Severus." And then the words rushed out from the ghosted lips in a tumble, "Your mum told Lily to tell you that Harry wasn't your son. She said she'd kill both of you if she didn't Severus! I don't know how she knew but Lily didn't know what else to do."

And then James took a deep breath and when he spoke again, he seemed to shudder, his voice was wavery. "Look, Severus, Lily would never betray you like that. I could never do that to you." James sighed, scrubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. "You're probably not even listening to this anymore, but if you are, you have to come back home. Lily is distraught but she's too scared to do anything and Albus is going to figure it out anyway if you don't--I think he's already suspicious. Just come home. Harry and Lily need you. They miss you...I miss you, Sev."

His mouth twisted into a sad smirk, "I know you hate it when I call you that. So come home and you can tell me so..." The last bit was delivered as a challenge but James' last word turned into a wet sort of choking sound. Severus watched as his friend swiped his fist across his eyes, just the same way he'd seen Harry do and then James muttered, "Yeah, yeah, a Hufflepuff, I know...just come home, all right..."

The figure began twirling placidly again, absolutely care-free.

It hurt more than Severus would have thought possible to listen to James talking. It was as though the past fifteen years had never happened. As though he could step through the Floo and back into their parlour and Lily would be making dinner while Harry alternated rolling his favorite blue ball between the two of them. James chortling as Harry somehow managed to make Severus make a complete fool of himself, toppling over to catch the unruly ball. Severus keeping his amusement at bay, giving them both a muted scowl, while Harry clapped delightedly and James echoed the sound.

But those years had passed. Severus had lost everything--his wife...his friend...and his son. And then the yawning void had finally been filled--the man Severus would have called brother had given Harry back to him. And now--now Harry would be lost forever. Either his life would be haunted by Voldemort or--No!

Severus had to steady himself, with this fingers gripping the rim of the Pensieve again, as he turned to stare at the only thing he had left to him.

He felt the sob rise up through his chest, the pain so great he felt his lungs would collapse with it, but he wouldn't allow the tears that threatened him. What good would they be now? But he couldn't still the grief as he stood there, shaking with despair as he watched his sleeping child. He bowed his head--it was too much.

He wouldn't make it through this. There was nothing for him if Harry died. Nothing. He would be destroyed.

"Dad?"

The voice, so plaintive and yet filled with such warmth, it caused another ripple of grief to course through him. Severus lifted his head again. Harry was scooting to the edge of the bed, his own eyes watery with tears. He took the few steps toward his father and Severus didn't pause. He reached out and pulled his son to him, wrapping his arms around Harry as fiercely as he could. Harry's arms were tight as well, filling Severus with the familiar peace he'd barely begun to remember. A sob rose up again and this time, he did nothing to stop the tears.