Love Potion HP

Chapter Nineteen: Mirrors and Fountains

Sirius awoke with a headache and stars in his eyes. Frigid winds whipped at his robes. His hand was clutched tightly around something. Slowly, he unclenched it and realized that the object was his wand. He stood up and glanced about. He appeared to be on the top level of a ruined tower. The ceiling and most of the once circular wall were gone, exposing him to the night. Judging by the temperature, he was far north of Hogwarts.

He called out, "Harry? Severus?"

"Behind you, Sirius," he heard Severus respond.

He turned. Severus was a few paces away, kneeling next to Harry, who was lying on the ground with his face screwed up in pain. His left arm was exposed and the bandage removed. Severus tenderly stroked the patch of skin which bore the Dark Mark.

"I can't make it go away, but sometimes this helps ease it," Severus told Harry, who nodded. "Unfortunately, it probably hurts you more because of your mother. It's in direct conflict with the protection in your skin."

Sirius approached. "Is he alright?"

He nodded, "Just the Mark- and the scar, of course."

With Severus's help, Harry stood up. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Severus?" Sirius deferred the question to him.

Severus's eyes surveyed the area. "No idea."

"How will we get back?" Harry asked.

"Apparate?" he suggested.

Sirius shook his head. "No good. Harry doesn't know how to apparate."

Severus hesitantly began, "Well... I do know a spell... but it's..."

"Dark?" he finished.

Severus nodded.

"Just how much of the Dark Arts do you know?"

"You don't really want to know," he warned. He paused, then said, "I think we should do it."

"What?" Sirius asked. "Don't you think you've cast enough Dark magic tonight?"

"Sirius, Voldemort teleported us here. He wants us to be here!" he exclaimed, both fearful and agitated. "What do you think he'll do to us? You- he might kill you right away, but me? Never!" He laughed bitterly. "My head is far too precious a trophy. And Potter? I don't want to contemplate what will be the manner of his death- assuming the Dark Lord even lets him die."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Why do both you and Dumbledore think Voldemort is so keen to get you, Severus? I know you were a spy against him, but that doesn't quite explain it? Why? What did you reveal?"

"A little gem of information I never realized would have such repercussions," Severus said in a low tone. "Don't press me for more."

"Severus-"

"Don't!" he snapped. "We've wasted enough time- let's get out of here."

Severus turned on his heel and led the way, down a dilapidated and crumbling stairwell. At the bottom was a long, narrow hall only lit by whatever moonlight penetrated the cracks in the mortar.

"Lumos!" the trio cast almost in unison.

The spell revealed little. The corridor was nondescript, made of gray stone with rusting iron torch holders spaced a few paces apart. It extended only in one direction, forward into darkness, with no apparent doorways or adjacent halls.

"Do you suppose this is a castle?" Sirius asked. "Voldemort's stronghold?"

Severus shook his head. "Castle, yes, but not a stronghold. The Dark Lord preferred his fortresses in much better condition."

He shrugged. "Well, you would know."

Severus gave him a wrathful scowl and stalked down the corridor; Harry and Sirius scurried a few steps behind. After fifteen minutes, the hallway took a bend into another identical to the first in every respect, including the absence of other passages.

"I don't like this," Severus murmured. "We're being forced to follow a particular path and we haven't encountered any traps or obstacles. Voldemort is trying to herd us somewhere. Harry, does your scar still hurt?"

"It's fading," he replied.

"Let us know if gets any worse."

The corridor led into a chamber which was almost pitch dark. Cautiously, they stepped into the room. The glow of the three Lumos-spells illuminated only half of the empty space, enough for Sirius to estimate its size approximately equal to the Gryffindor common room. As they edged in further, he could see that it contained a single object, a large gilded mirror with writing around the top. It said: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

"The Mirror of Erised!" Harry exclaimed and darted towards it before Sirius could stop him. He pressed his fingertips against the glass. "Mum..." he whispered.

Sirius and Severus glanced askance at each other in shock.

"What is that doing here?" Severus mused. "I thought Dumbledore...?"

"Could there be more than one?"

"Could Voldemort have stolen it?"

They cast their questions aside and bravely stepped towards the mirror.

Sirius peered into the glass. He saw himself, not in the forefront, but in the background, sitting in the first row of pews in a small chapel. Severus was next to him with- for once- a broad and happy grin which mirrored his own. Before them was a woman in a long, lavish white gown, her face hidden behind the gauzy folds of a veil. Standing next to her, clasping her hands with an expression of pure joy and love was James Potter.

No, no it wasn't James. James's eyes were not green, nor did he have a lightning bolt scar across his forehead...

Harry's wedding, he realized. I'm seeing Harry's wedding.

"Severus!" he exclaimed, breathlessly delighted, "what do you-"

He turned and found no similar look of pleasure across the Potion Master's features. Instead, Severus was quivering as if he had just seen a dementor.

Fear shuddered through Sirius. He placed a hand upon his shoulder, "Severus, what-"

Severus trembled, then stepped back, brushing him away. "No. No... I don't understand... I don't want that anymore..."

"Severus..."

Severus closed his eyes. "Can we leave?" he pleaded. "Can we just leave?"

Sirius glanced back at Harry. Entranced by the mirror, he had not noticed their exchange.

"Harry," he asked, "are you ready to go?"

Harry turned around with a look of both melancholy and understanding upon his face. "Yes," he replied softly.

There was only one doorway from the chamber, which they took. Sirius lead, gently squeezing the hand of Severus as they walked. The length of the third corridor was considerable, with several twists and turns but no branches. Finally, the passage ended at the wreck of a courtyard.

The courtyard was completely open to the sky and well illuminated by the moon. Its perimeter was marked by columns, most of which had either toppled over or broken in two. Cracks ran through the marble tiling like spider webs. Arranged in a semicircle near the center were eleven large, upside-down gray urns. Resting on each was an ornate stone basin whose top was enclosed by a dome of glass. All were empty, except for the one in the middle, which was filled with a strange pink liquid that bubbled up into two streaming jets under the glass like a fountain.

"Oh my God," Severus said in disbelief.

"What?" Sirius asked. "What are those?"

"They're..." He shook his head. "I don't believe it. They're Aphrodiluses!"

Sirius took a sharp intake of breath as he continued to explain, "Only the one in the middle is active- the others won't be until the potion is added."

Harry gave Severus an odd look. "Why would Voldemort want people to fall in love?"

"He wouldn't," Severus replied. "Aphrodiluses don't produce love, just attraction and obsession. These are probably set up to bring together people who hate each other."

"So they kill each other in a passionate rage," clarified Sirius.

"Exactly."

"That's really sick. Can you tell who these are for?"

He nodded. "See the scribbles on the side? That's the Dark Script- the written form of the Dark Tongue."

"Which I suppose you are fluent in."

Severus gave him a nasty look. "As a matter of fact, I am, thank you very much!" he snapped, then approached the first of the eleven. "Albus Dumbledore and..." he read aloud, then rotated the basin. Suddenly, he violently shoved it off the urn. The stone and glass shattered. "Oh, that's disgusting!" he exclaimed.

Sirius winced. "Who was it?"

"You don't want to know!"

Severus turned to the next. "Sméagol and Samwise Gamgee? I don't recognize those names," he said, and threw it to the ground.

Severus walked around the semicircle, first systematically smashing the five Aphrodiluses on the right, then ignoring the active one in the center, approached those on left. He paused before the seventh and asked, "Harry? I think you might want to do the honors for this one."

Harry, puzzled, walked over to Severus. "Why?"

Severus pointed to the left of the Aphrodilus. "Harry Potter," he read. Then he turned to the right. "Draco Malfoy."

The Aphrodilus was soon another pile of rubble upon the ground.

Severus smashed the eighth, ninth, and tenth. As Sirius approached to assist him with the last, he extended his arms and commanded sharply, "DON'T!"

Sirius and Harry froze.

"Don't," he repeated. "This Aphrodilus is active. If you break it, it will kill whomever it is meant for."

"And who is it meant for?" Sirius inquired.

Severus knelt to study the letters on the basin. Suddenly, he stood up, rigid and trembling greater than he had before the Mirror of Erised. His mouth opened as if to gasp, but the sound never left him. It died in his throat. His eyes had gone blank and bleak.

Sirius's heart lurched. "Severus?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. "Whose names..."

Severus's croak was a sound more tortured than all of Pettigrew's screams combined.

"Ours."