Crucio

Chapter 23: Onward to the Sea

Sirius watched Snape push himself abruptly to his feet. Snape stumbled back several steps; his eyes were glued to the seabed. Sirius swallowed the rush of pity for the other man, his arm tightening round Harry's shoulder even as he continued to gaze at Snape. Snape must have realized that he was staring in slack-jawed horror at the distorted face; he turned sharply away, where his eyes connected with Sirius'.

Snape's jaw pulsed, and then he said in the most scathing tone Sirius had ever heard from him, "Well, it seems you win again, Black."

Sirius, unprepared for that particular sentiment, had no ready retort.

"Win?" Harry echoed.

Sirius glanced down at his godson, who was twisting slightly against his side. Certain that the distorted features beneath the surface of the water would disturb him, Sirius stood, pulling Harry with him.

"It wasn't me," Sirius said quietly, once they were no longer turned toward the submerged body. Harry's brows furrowed. He opened his mouth, but closed it again before he spoke. He glanced at Snape, who was scowling fiercely now. Harry turned his eyes away, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Can we get out of here?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse; he wasn't looking at either of them.

"Of course," Sirius answered automatically. Harry stuffed his fists into his pockets; his eyes fixed on the water lapping at his calves. Beginning to worry over his godson's odd behavior, Sirius looked pointedly at Snape. Snape narrowed his eyes, looking even angrier than he had a moment ago. And without allowing Sirius any time to prepare, Snape ripped the two of them from Harry's mind.

Sirius came back to himself in a whirl of breathlessness and disorientation. Too exhausted even to glare at Snape for the abrupt departure from Harry's mind, Sirius slumped against the arm of the settee.

He struggled for something to say to the other man. "Snape..."

Snape's lip curled. "This changes nothing."

Sirius watched wearily as Snape turned his back and stalked out of the room. Glad that Harry was still asleep beside him, Sirius closed his eyes, and tried not to see Snape's glassy stare beneath the ripples.

--

"Sirius."

Sirius grunted a little, trying to ignore the pressure against his ribs.

"Sirius... you're crushing my legs..." A persistent poke this time, and Sirius opened his eyes.

"What...?" he mumbled, blinking tiredly at his godson.

"My legs," Harry said pointedly. "You're lying on them."

Sirius glanced down. Realizing that he was all but sprawled across Harry's lower legs, he shifted aside quickly. "Sorry..."

Harry drew his legs out from under Sirius as he sat up. "I was trying not to wake you," he said, not sounding groggy at all, "but my legs were starting to go numb." He rubbed absently at one of his calves.

Sirius massaged his eyes, trying to bring himself more fully awake. "It's all right," he said through a yawn; he hadn't realized he was so tired. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." He eyed Harry. "You've been awake for awhile?"

Harry shrugged and stretched his legs out. "I've been trying to work out how we're going to put the two realities back to rights. It seems the only thing to do is to try and force the streams together again."

"The last time you tried that, you nearly collapsed," Sirius pointed out. "We had to use Snape's Sleeping Potion."

"I know..." Harry stared at the faded denim at his knees. "But it's probably just a matter of practicing. And I do have some control of the streams when I'm sleeping-"

Sirius leaned forward, catching Harry's eye, since it seemed Harry was doing his best not to allow him to. "We have no reason to believe it will work. And you might do more harm that way," he said, thinking his argument was perfectly reasonable. But Harry shook his head.

"What could I possibly do that would be worse than what I've already done?" There was a note of bitterness in Harry's voice.

"It might harm you, Harry," Sirius stressed, leaning forward just a little. Harry didn't respond. "Harry," Sirius said quietly, hoping to catch Harry's attention, but his godson didn't look up. "What is it? Something about finding Snape buried in the sand upset you..."

Harry looked up sharply. "Didn't it upset you?"

Sirius furrowed his brow; he didn't think Harry meant finding out that Snape was the one who should have died. "That you saved Snape?" Sirius frowned when Harry nodded. "Harry," he began, trying not to make his tone admonishing, "Snape and I have hated one another for years, but I certainly don't begrudge him life-"

"That's not what I mean..."

Sirius tilted his head to the side as he studied Harry. "What, then?" he finally asked. Harry glanced briefly toward the fireplace.

"I don't remember wanting to save him," Harry explained. Sirius wasn't sure what to say in response, so he simply nodded. Harry forehead was lined with stress, his eyebrows knit together. "It made sense, when I thought it was you that I wanted to save."

It took all of Sirius' willpower to keep his arm from circling Harry's shoulders; Harry was holding himself very stiffly. "I can only think you acted instinctively," Sirius said, and was pleased that Harry seemed to be listening. "You have a big heart," Sirius continued quietly, reminding his godson of something he'd said when Harry had rescued him from the Dementors.

Harry's mouth softened a little, obviously remembering the same. Sirius smiled.

"And I don't think it was a matter of choosing Snape over me," he said firmly, sensing that was a bigger part of what was worrying Harry. "Snape was obviously the one who needed to be saved."

The quiet words seemed to calm Harry; he nodded slowly, but he didn't relax completely. He was very interested in his hands again. Sirius gave up the struggle and gently nudged Harry's chin up. He didn't ask again what was wrong, and Harry sighed a little.

He shifted his weight against the cushions. "I experimented a little...while you were sleeping."

"To merge the realities?" Sirius asked sharply; Harry nodded. Sirius ignored his instinct to scold Harry for that; he frowned instead. Harry grimaced.

"Not enough to make me feel sick, like I did earlier," he said, sounding defensive to Sirius' ears.

"You shouldn't be trying it at all," Sirius retorted, giving in to his instinct after all. "Not without someone to make certain you don't harm yourself."

Harry was frowning now as well. "I'm going to have to do it eventually."

Trying rather unsuccessfully to keep his worry from morphing completely into irritation, Sirius tried a steadying breath. "Harry, not even Snape believes you can merge the realities that way-"

"I have to try," Harry interrupted forcefully. "We can't just leave things as they are."

"Of course not," Sirius agreed, "but we will have to find a way that doesn't put you in so much danger."

"How?" Harry demanded. "I have to make the realities fit back together. Force them back together, since Snape isn't supposed to be here."

"You cannot force them back together," Sirius said, leaning forward again, and capturing Harry's shoulders. "Listen to me," he said firmly when Harry opened his mouth again. "Whatever we decide to do, we do it together. Even Snape should have a say in this."

Harry's face twisted with confusion. "What do you mean? Snape wants to fix the realities just as much as we do."

Sirius sighed, unsure how to explain how Snape might feel; or even if he should explain what Snape had said to him.

Sirius shook his head to clear it; Snape's lifeless face had taken up residence again. "If there is a way to fix this, we will decide together, all right?"

"Snape isn't here..."

Sirius fingers pressed into Harry's shoulders; Harry closed his mouth. "You are not to try to fix this alone, Harry," Sirius said quietly, the authority in his tone surprising both of them--if Harry's slightly widened eyes were anything to measure by. Sirius kept his gaze fixed on his godson anyway, raising his eyebrows to emphasize the words. "And in the mean time, we'll try to find a solution that doesn't risk you."

And one that doesn't include Snape's face haunting me...

The stray thought surprised Sirius, but he didn't try to push it away.

He wondered what Harry was thinking as sat there, staring at him. It was clear that his godson didn't want to agree with the mandate; Sirius could practically see the arguments swarming in Harry's eyes, and he wore an expression so like James, when James had been trying not to argue with an adult, that Sirius felt a stabbing moment of grief.

But the expression faded as Sirius pushed the emotions away. Harry finally sighed and nodded. "All right," he conceded. He pursed his lips in thought. "Do you think it will make sense to try it from Snape's side though? And pull your reality into his..."

Sirius and Harry plotted a strategy. And after awhile, inside Sirius' tangled thoughts, Snape's empty face morphed into James and Lily, pleading with him not to lose their baby.

--

Harry rose from the settee slowly, once he realized that he was alone in the sitting room. Snape wasn't there. Harry sighed, deciding Snape was probably in the kitchen. Harry found him there, a moment later as he pushed the door open without a sound.

Snape was sitting at the dusty table, his face pressed into a palm, propped up by a slightly quivering elbow; a vial of cheery yellow liquid was clutched in his other hand.

"Professor?"

Snape didn't look up. "Leave," he ordered in a low voice.

Harry stepped into the kitchen, and let the door close behind him. Snape looked up sharply. His eyes narrowed, but Harry didn't allow him to speak. "We need to find a way to bring the realities together," he tried to explain. "Sirius thought you might have some ideas-"

"Yes," Snape interrupted coldly; his thumb caressed the vial. "Of course he did." His lips thinned. "The solution is a simple one, of course."

Harry stared at his professor. "I... don't understand, sir."

A dark chuckle escaped Snape's lips; the sound was so menacing, Harry felt chilled by it. "It does not require your understanding," Snape said softly; he turned his eyes back to his little vial.

"If we're going to merge the realities-"

Snape's raised his eyes slowly. They were full of hatred. "You are not going to do anything."

"But we need-"

Snape pushed himself to his feet abruptly, topping the chair to the floor. "Did you hear what I said?" he demanded, coming around the table. "I will fix it. Go back to your godfather!"

"Whatever you've thought of," Harry said with exasperation, "I need to know so that I can help-"

"You cannot help. It has nothing to do with you."

"I caused this, remember?"

"Yes," Snape said with enough venom to make Harry take a step back, "your hero complex has destroyed the world we knew."

Harry sucked in cold air through his teeth. He couldn't remember wanting to save Snape, but he had. And for reasons that Harry would probably never understand, Snape hated him for it.

"But I saved you," he said quietly. He hadn't meant to say it, and as soon as he did, he wished he could call the words back.

"My life is not yours to save!"

Snape swept a teacup viciously from the table, making Harry flinch. The smashing china punctuated his words, but all Harry could hear were the words as they reverberated in his ears.

...is not yours to save... is not... is...

Harry's eyes flicked back to the sunny potion, where Snape's knuckles were straining around it. Snape's gaze traveled there as well, and then as Harry's eyes snapped back to Snape's face, the black eyes pierced him through.

"No..." Harry whispered, the understanding of what Snape meant to do, knocking the air from his lungs. "You can't."

Snape looked exactly as livid as he had just before he'd slapped Harry, but Harry didn't move, and after a tense moment, Snape turned sharply away.

"Get out," he snarled. "Get out, before I spell you to sleep."

"No," Harry refused with a tight shake of his head, even as he tried to figure out how to get the vial away from the professor.

"There is nothing you can do." Snape's words were hollow now.

"There has to be," Harry began desperately, as he realized Snape would easily counter an Accio. "I can't just let you-"

Snape spun around again, this time, grabbing Harry's shirt in his fist and yanking Harry forward.

"Do you want to know what you're trying to save?" he hissed. "Have you any idea of the sins I have committed, Potter? I am not worth your efforts, you stupid boy."

"I don't care," Harry said hoarsely, as he tried to struggle free of the professor's strangling grip. Snape shook him, hard enough to make Harry feel ill.

"You don't care?" he echoed viciously. "Do you care that it is only because of me that your parents are dead?"

Harry froze.

Snape pulled him closer. "It was I who informed the Dark Lord of the contents of the Prophecy."

Harry stared into Snape's ugly black eyes.

And then, just as abruptly as he'd been accosted, Harry was released. He stumbled back, barely catching himself against the side of the table. Snape gazed at him, his eyes empty now.

"So you see, Potter," he said softly, "if not for me, you would still have them."

The words--Snape's entire explanation--wouldn't process. Harry knew he'd heard the words correctly, but they didn't make sense. All he could do was stare at Snape, who seemed smaller somehow... Maybe it was the way he was hunched in on himself. All except that bright yellow potion in the tiny vial--like a shaft of moonlight in an otherwise starless night.

And Snape was lifting it toward his face.

"Leave me," he whispered hoarsely. But Harry couldn't make himself turn away.