Crucio

Chapter 21: Drowning

Harry groaned softly as soon as he felt the shifting realities settle. He really didn't want to open his eyes, but since he couldn't pretend it hadn't happened, he lifted his head from where it was resting on the back of the sofa; Sirius' damp flannel slid into his open hand.

He opened his eyes.

Snape was staring at him, from across the room, sitting in the same chair that Harry had last seen him in.

"Did you activate your amulet?"

Harry nodded, not surprised at all by Snape's curt greeting. He gave his eyes a good scrub in an attempt to whisk away the exhaustion. Snape pursed his lips, his eyes sharp and intent as he stared at Harry. Harry gazed back at him warily, somehow knowing that whatever Snape was going to say next, he was not going to like it overly much.

"I will enter your mind again."

"Why?" The question was much wearier than Harry had intended it to be, but even though he tried, he couldn't summon enough irritation.

"To follow an earlier suspicion."

Harry sat up straight; there was something dark about Snape's eyes... shifty.

"You said all you could find in my head were dust bunnies." Harry made a face as he parroted back Snape's earlier words.

"I needed time to think," Snape returned, without a trace of remorse for his lie. Harry squelched his irritation quickly.

"What did you find, then?"

Snape didn't answer right away. His eyes were calculating though as they swept over Harry's erect posture. Harry dug his fingers into his knees. And just as he was about to snap at the professor, Snape finally dipped his head as if making a decision.

"Umbridge's curse opened up a new avenue of magic for you," he finally said.

"I don't understand." Surprisingly, it wasn't so very hard to admit. Snape scowled at him anyway.

"It will be easier to show you." Snape gestured for him to come toward him. Harry didn't move though.

"Show me what?"

Snape pursed his lips, looking aggrieved at Harry's audacity. "Any explanation will only confuse you," he said.

Harry's toes curled against his trainers as he tried to keep his temper in check. He brought in a slow breath through his nostrils and nodded--the important thing was fixing whatever had happened. So he pushed himself up, bunching the flannel in his fingers as he walked toward Snape.

Snape's eyes were narrowed, obviously suspicious of Harry's easy acquiescence, which almost made Harry smile. Had he time, it might have been fun to torture the professor with outright obedience from time to time.

Snape opened his mouth, but before he could even speak, Harry silently handed over his wand and sat cross-legged on the floor. Snape glared at him, but took the wand without comment, setting it on the table beside him.

"I trust," Snape said through acerbic lips, "that we will have no incidents this time?"

"No," Harry bit out. "We won't."

As if to test him, Snape raised his wand slowly, the tip pointed toward Harry's temple. Harry stayed perfectly still as the wand touched the side of his head, his eyes on Snape's.

"Legilimens."

The soft word licked against Harry's conscience, and this time there was nothing to stop its intrusion. No pain to invade his mind, no terror to send him to the darkest places within himself.

It was a curious sort of warmth, nothing like the earlier invasions... nothing like the attacks which Snape had termed lessons either. The warmth was guiding him, carrying him along currents of thoughts; of feelings and emotions, cresting him as they dived through the memories.

And then he was descending. Snape was pushing him and he were crashing--splashing down to hover drenched and dripping in a place he could not recognize.

But he was alone here. Snape was gone.

And Harry could sense a new magic inside himself--and somehow he knew it was responsible for everything that had happened since Dodgy exploded.

He was standing on a solid patch of dirt.

There was a great ocean in front of him--the vast body narrowing and surging toward him as a raging river. And where Harry stood, as if he was a towering mountain instead of a mere boy, the river parted and two perfect streams tumbled past on either side.

He turned, mesmerized, as he stared in the other direction. He could see the water stretching on forever, so close the streams were almost touching. Once, a little way down, they crossed and then they flowed farther and farther apart, until Harry could find no way for the two to ever meet again.

The streams were roaring in his ears now, his mind ringing with confusion and then he was almost certain he was drowning.

He gasped as Grimmauld Place materialized around him again. He tried to calm his breathing as his conscience swirled back into place.

"Wha-" Harry gave up trying to speak though when Snape handed him a glass of water; he gulped it greedily. He felt like he hadn't had anything to drink in days. He wiped the back of his hand sloppily over his lips, pulling the glass to his chest as his thoughts continued to tumble.

Despite what Snape had said, he still didn't understand.

"The world we knew was split in two," Snape said, his voice oddly restrained.

Harry closed his eyes, remembering the way the river had changed course; had curved so abruptly around him. "By me," he said, somehow certain of it.

He opened his eyes again to find Snape's face twisted with disgust. But as soon as Harry found his eyes, Snape's face melted into its familiar haughty lines. "Yes." He shook his head sharply when Harry would have interrupted him. "I do not know how, nor do I care at the moment, though it is most likely that Umbridge's curse created it. It is obvious that only you can set it to rights again."

"How?" Harry asked, leaving aside the other issues for the moment, and the questions that immediately formed about Umbridge and her curse. "You think I can manipulate the worlds, don't you?" he asked, not knowing how he'd understood as much.

Snape scowled at him, and then slowly, as if Harry had the intellect of a mountain troll, he explained. "I entered your mind to guide you to this new source of magic. Once there, you manipulated it yourself."

"You mean, you think I can use this to bring the two dimensions together?"

"Yes," Snape snapped impatiently.

Harry stared at him, his lips parted slightly in disbelief.

"Well?" Snape demanded, leaning forward slightly. "Do you wish to try it, or simply sit there like a slack-jawed Myvent for the remainder of the day?"

Harry nodded his head jerkily, the insult sliding over him effortlessly. He stood shakily and plucked his wand from the table where Snape had laid it earlier. He had to scrub his palm vigorously against his trousers before he was certain the holly wouldn't zip from his fingers when he tried to cast a spell.

Snape was already standing, and waiting--impatiently, of course--when Harry finally felt steady enough. He nodded at Snape's raised eyebrow and then with Snape's hissed spell, Harry was once again staring at the broken river.

Cursing Umbridge, and her reverberating curse, Harry knelt down between the meandering streams. He took a deep breath and plunged his hands into the water, hissing in surprise at the different temperatures. His left hand was rapidly losing all feeling in the icy water. His right hand gave no protest, its own temperature as soothing as a long soak in a tub.

Harry closed his eyes, focusing as Snape had ordered him to do, trying to see the river again in his mind--trying to see that the two should be one. And he imagined he could feel the water rising over his wrists, sloshing his shoes as it roiled in two great waves into the empty space between them.

In waves and waves, the water rolled, until Harry struggled under its weight; gulping for air, gasping for breath as the weight of the two streams submerged him.

And then with a huge gulp of dry air, Harry was thrashing against the floor in the sitting room.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up as the world righted itself again. Sirius was by his side, gazing down at him with confusion.

Snape towered above them.

As Harry struggled to sit up, Sirius slid an arm under Harry's shoulders and helped him sit up.

"What's happened?" Sirius asked, searching Harry's face.

"It worked," Harry breathed.

Sirius looked confusedly between Harry and Snape. "What worked?"

"The two realities...I pulled them together," Harry said, feeling dazed by it and unable to believe it had actually worked. Even as he explained it to Sirius, it sounded completely impossible, especially as Harry really didn't understand how it had happened. How could he fix a rip in reality with some sort of new magic within himself...?

After a moment of trying to explain, Harry found that he really couldn't. How could he explain that he was manipulating planes of existence? Sirius--and Snape--looked as bewildered as Harry felt.

And then both Snape and Harry were gasping in pain. Harry clapped a hand to his scar. And as he did, Harry felt the streams shifting.

"No!" he shouted, plunging his hands into the warm water, even though he was still aware of being in the sitting room. But the warm stream slipping away--he could feel the water draining through his fingers even as he watched Sirius wink out of existence.

And even as he heard Snape raising his voice, Harry concentrated on the two streams again. He closed his eyes and focused all his energy on merging the two. Sirius' stream was veering off, away from Snape's in a way that seemed more deliberate than it should.

But Harry didn't care. He poured himself into the magic--he could feel it filling his entire body--and dragged Sirius' stream back on course.

He could see Sirius in front of him again, but he was slipping--faster now.

Harry pulled harder, insisting the streams do as he bid.

When he opened his eyes again, he was flat on his back and Sirius was peering down at him, the anxiety sharp on his face.

"It worked," Harry whispered. He blinked in confusion when Sirius shook his head. "What's wrong?" he asked, but Sirius turned to Snape instead.

"Whatever he's doing, he's not doing it again," he said in a hard voice; his jaw was set. Harry's heavy breathing echoed in the small room.

Snape didn't immediately sneer at Sirius; he had an odd look on his face. But it passed almost instantly, and he finally favored Sirius with a sneer. "Perhaps you should attempt to persuade Potter of that."

Sirius considered him for a moment, before turning back to Harry. "I don't know how you're making the two planes come back together," he said quickly, his fingers squeezing Harry's, "but your life signs were almost nonexistent for a moment. And they're wavering even now."

Harry didn't understand.

"But you're here... I did it."

But even as he said it, Sirius was fading.

"Harry..."

And then he was gone.

"No!" Harry gasped. He struggled to sit up.

"Do not move," Snape said harshly. Harry wasn't inclined to listen, but his limbs betrayed him, and he only managed to prop himself up against one of the chairs.

"What happened?" he croaked. "Why didn't it work?"

Snape bared his teeth, looking furious. "You disrupted the flow of natural time." He grated his teeth together now. "I had suspected it, and now we have proof."

"Proof of what?" Harry panted, but his breathing was slowly beginning to even out.

"You have not figured it out yet?" Snape demanded.

Harry shook his head slowly.

"You have no idea," Snape went on, his voice dark and unpleasant, "why you cannot force Black and me to stay together?"

"The flow of natural time has been corrupted," Harry repeated Snape's words.

"When the house-elf exploded, you diverted the course all of our lives," Snape corrected.

"But what does that mean?" Harry demanded, exasperated and more anxious than he cared to admit.

"It means, Potter," Snape said coldly, "that one of us was meant to die, and you stopped it."

Harry tried to comprehend what Snape had just said, but he couldn't. "I don't understand... How can-"

"It amazes me that you can be so consistently stupid," Snape snapped, drawing himself up so that he was quite taller than Harry had noticed him to be in the last few days. "It is really quite simple, so do try to pay attention." Harry nodded, not hearing the sarcasm at all. "Somehow Umbridge's curse opened a new channel of magic in you, and instead of allowing events to unfold as they should, you interfered-"

"But I didn't-"

"You did," Snape hissed. "It was obviously an unconscious use of the magic. And now it seems that as long as both of are alive, the realities cannot be merged." He sneered, his face uglier than Harry had ever seen it. "Unconsciously or not, you risked destroying an entire world instead of letting Black die as he was meant to."

"No..." Sirius wasn't meant to die! He hadn't stopped it. Harry shook his head wildly. "No, that can't be right."

Snape smiled grimly. "Then by all means, continue on with your efforts until the realities bury you instead."

"There has to be another way."

"Do you have any ideas?"

Harry stared at him, his limbs beginning to go numb. It wasn't possible. It wasn't.

With a frustrated shake of his head, Snape went to the Floo, and Harry watched through a haze of lost thoughts as he muttered several incantations. The Floo sprang to life a moment later. Snape stalked back over to him. He shoved a vial in Harry's face.

"Take it after you arrive in the other reality," he ordered brusquely. Harry took the vial, without looking at it, his mind still reeling. "It will allow you to sleep without ever entering the deepest part of the sleep cycle, which may prevent you from switching planes," Snape continued on flatly, as if he were reciting a list of potions ingredients.

"But-"

"You seem to thrive on being coddled, Potter, and nothing else," Snape snarled, his face suddenly livid. He made an aggressive shooing motion toward the stairs. "So get out of my sight, and go back to your mutt of a godfather."

Harry, feeling almost as if Snape had slapped him again, scrambled to his feet. With his vial clutched to his chest, he stumbled up the stairs.

He didn't lie down when he reached Sirius' room; he sat on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest and tried to stop his heart from racing.

This couldn't be.

He'd disrupted reality. It was his fault. And Sirius was supposed to be dead.

His heart was trying to pound itself out of his chest.

He had to fix it.

He couldn't fix it.

And Snape knew it. His jeering words made Harry want to sick up.

Harry dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until his sockets rang with multi-colored stars. The pain felt good. Sharp and real.

Until shame crept through his belly--and spread like a disease through his chest.

He did need Sirius. Needed him too much. So much that he'd destroyed reality.

He'd never needed any one before.

But even Harry couldn't let that lie slip unhindered into his thoughts. He'd always wanted someone to care for him--the same way Ron's and Hermione's parents cared for them. And the instant Sirius had offered him a place to live--a home--he'd wanted it more than anything else.

He'd almost had it.

Harry let the shame wiggle through him, until he was too exhausted to sit up any longer.

He stared at the crack in the ceiling for a long time, and understood for the first time, why Snape hated him.

He was selfish. Had obviously always been.

Harry closed his eyes, and sought the magic within himself. It was easy to find it by himself, now that he knew it was there. He was standing in the icy water. He carefully stepped over the barren patch of land to the other gently sloping stream, as if he was walking across a quickly-crumbling bridge.

He could feel the disorientation as it waved through him, but this time, somehow, he could control it. He could slow the feeling of uneasiness and allow the new reality to settle over him like a worn old blanket.

He opened his eyes, and just as he knew he would be, Sirius was sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

Sirius sighed deeply, the relief making him look older somehow. "Are you all right?"

Harry wanted to nod; it would be easier to pretend. But since Sirius was studying him so carefully, Harry knew his godfather wasn't likely to believe him. So instead of answering, he sat up, leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes.

"Snape gave me a potion to keep me from entering a deep sleep." He was too tired to explain how Snape had retrieved the potion, and Sirius didn't ask.

"Let's get you to bed then, and see if it works."

Harry could feel the mattress shift as his godfather stood.

"Harry?" Sirius questioned worriedly when Harry made no move to lie down. Harry didn't answer that either. Sirius put the back of his hand against Harry's cheek, as if to feel for fever.

"I can't make them go back together again."

All the king's horses and all the king's men... The rhyme marched through Harry's brain, leaving Harry wondering where he might have heard it.

"Humpty Dumpty," he murmured, opening his eyes. He blinked. Sirius was leaning in close, his grey eyes dark with anxiety.

"Harry, I really think you ought to sleep. You're not making any sense-"

"Should I be?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly bitter as he straightened up. "I tried it, Sirius, but I couldn't do it. It didn't work, no matter how hard I tried-"

"I know," Sirius said calmly. "We'll try it again when you're stronger-"

"No," Harry said forcefully, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up so that he was staring at Sirius straight on. "You don't understand. It can't work." He pressed his fists into his thighs. "It can't work with both of you alive."

"Harry, I don't-"

"Snape explained it to me," Harry said quietly, his breaths coming faster now. "You can't both be there." Harry could no longer swallow properly. "One of you is meant to be dead. And I stopped it."

Sirius stared at him. "Harry," he began gently as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't," Harry said hoarsely, dipping his shoulder out of reach. Sirius took a step back, a bewildered look on his face. "It was supposed to be you," Harry rasped. "You were supposed to die, and I ripped the world apart so that I could keep you."

Sirius looked no closer to understanding.

"And now nothing will bring them back together again!" Harry was close to shouting now, furious with Sirius for reasons beyond rationality. "Snape was right," he went on mindlessly. "All those times he called me selfish, he was right."

"Harry-" Sirius tried again, his features pale now as he reached out for Harry, but Harry jerked himself away.

"I don't need to be coddled," he cried. "No matter what Snape says, I don't!" He shook his head roughly. "Just leave me alone."

Sirius swallowed; twice. He slid his hands into his pockets and nodded a little. "All right," he agreed quietly. "You're welcome to sleep in here if you want to try Snape's potion." He gestured toward the door with his head. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

He left quickly, his head bowed.

Harry sat heavily on the bed as soon as Sirius rounded the door. Shame clawed at him as he listened to Sirius treading softly down the stairs.

--

Harry stared at Snape's potion for a long time. But the urge to sleep was gone--his exhaustion completely overshadowed by his shame. He couldn't believe he'd treated Sirius like that. But Snape's words were taunting him, stopping him from going downstairs to apologize. He didn't need to be coddled--he didn't need Sirius to soothe his frayed nerves. He'd done without for years-

Harry swallowed as his eyes fell on that photo of him and Sirius. Sirius grinning out at him. Caring about him. Caring for him. Even if Harry didn't need to be reassured, Sirius didn't deserve to be treated the way Harry had treated him.

With his heart stomping in his chest, Harry stuffed Snape's potion in his pocket and stood. He descended the stairs slowly.

Sirius was sitting in one of the chairs, his hunched back to Harry. He looked like he was nursing a headache.

Harry stopped in the doorway, his stomach lurching painfully.

Sirius's head came up, even though Harry hadn't made a sound. Sirius twisted in his chair, and smiled a little, which felt a bit like a Bludger to Harry's stomach.

"Feeling better?"

Harry nodded mutely. He tried to clear his throat a little. "I'm sorry I..." He glanced away. "I didn't mean to snap at you." He didn't really know what else to say, or how to explain what Snape had said to him.

Harry looked up as the chair's springs groaned. Sirius was frowning as he stood. He gazed at Harry's dejected form for a long moment.

"Come here," he said quietly. Harry bit his lip, but moved forward. He stopped just in front of Sirius, unable to meet his godfather's eyes.

Silently, Sirius opened his arms and Harry wrapped them securely around Harry. "There is nothing wrong with you wanting to be loved, Harry," he said after a quiet moment. "Even if you're sixteen," he continued, deflecting Harry's protest. "Every person wants to be loved. And I do love you, Harry."

His throat burning, Harry tried desperately to push down the childish tears.

"Would you call me selfish for needing you?" Sirius asked. Harry couldn't answer so he just shook his head. "You are not selfish, Harry. You're perfectly normal, I promise you."

Harry gulped a huge rush of air against Sirius' shoulder. But Sirius didn't let go, and Harry finally gave in and allowed himself to return the hug. Sirius' arms tightened, and slowly, Snape's accusations began to melt away.

When they finally broke apart, Sirius took Harry's arm and guided him to the settee. He took Harry's face in his hands; Harry didn't resist. "Do you actually know for sure that what Snape said is true?"

"He said-"

"I know what he said," Sirius interrupted, "but do you know for certain he's right? That I was supposed to die?" His questions were even and measured, and Harry found himself considering the question.

"When I realized that something was wrong in that split-second before Dodgy exploded, I was terrified that you would be hurt," Harry finally admitted. "It makes sense that if I had this new magic sitting in me, waiting to manifest itself somehow, that that's how I'd use it."

Sirius nodded, releasing his hold. "It does, but that doesn't mean it happened that way."

A spark of hope ignited inside Harry's chest.

Sirius caught the look, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Did you really think I'd accept Snape's explanation on this?" Sirius shook his head, cutting off Harry's answer. "You are not going to lose me, Harry," he said fiercely. "Even if what Snape says is true, we will find a way to get around it. I am not going to accept the inevitability of my death, even if I was meant to die in that explosion."

Harry nodded shakily as Sirius put an arm round Harry's shoulder. And despite the lingering of Snape's caustic words, Harry accepted the comfort.