Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Another Life ❯ All Around the Mulberry Bush ( Chapter 5 )

Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, Angst, DARK themes, Backstabbing, Incest, Yuri/Fem-slash, and other various nastiness. Hard R rating.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine.

Sirius Black could think of a lot of things that could appear in his bedroom. Most of these things were of the badly rated persuasion, but never had he ever thought that waking up he would find the Dark Lord sitting next to his bed. He always thought if he met the man, he’d kill him on the spot, but he was too shocked to do much but sit up and stare.

“Good morning, Mr. Black,” said Lord Voldemort. Sirius numbly nodded back. Those haunting red eyes narrowed a little. “I hope you are recovering well.”

His heart beat rang loud in his ears. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. He stared at the demon who sat so very calmly beside him.

“Narcissa tells me that you are…reluctant to help me in matters I may ask you assistance on.”

“Yes.” He spoke before he realized it. “I won’t help you hurt Harry.”

“I see.” Lord Voldemort’s face was unreadable. “Then it is fortunate that I want the boy alive, unharmed, and safe, isn’t it?”

Sirius said nothing. Lord Voldemort clasped his hands in his lap.

“I do not require you to join me nor to be loyal to me,” he began quietly.

“Good,” replied Sirius bluntly. “I’d never join up.”

“Be that as it may…” Was that amusement Sirius heard in the Dark Lord’s voice? “Your cooperation in keeping Harry Potter well is all I require of you.”

“I won’t let you hurt him,” Sirius growled with more power behind it. Lord Voldemort was quickly losing the power of fear over him. He was a little surprised when the Dark Lord not only did not rise to meet him, but actually lowered his gaze.

“I realize that,” Voldemort murmured so quietly that Sirius barely heard it. After a few moments, he lifted his gaze and stared Sirius in the eye. “I don’t intend to hurt him.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

“No. But I do expect you to see to the boy when he is brought here.” Lord Voldemort stood and stared down at him expressionlessly. “Good day, Mr. Black.”

He got to the door by the time Sirius was able to untangle himself from the bed sheets. The Dark Lord paused there and glanced back, watching Sirius rise.

“If you hurt one hair on his head-” He already knew what the animagus was going to say.

“You can kill me then, Mr. Black,” replied Voldemort softly. Then the man disappeared into the hall. Sirius sat back against the bed, pushing straggly black hair out his face, and wondered just when the world had turned on its axis.

Harry stared at the still form of his potions professor. Almost too still, as if the life was being drawn from him, but then Harry would see the slight shift of his chest as he breathed, the movement of his hair as it was tossed by the slight wind. Still, it felt as if that motion would stop if he didn’t watch and make sure the man was alive. He knew he was obsessing. He knew something was wrong with him. And he also knew that he couldn’t stop it, no matter what. He couldn’t, not by himself.

Snape looked so very tired. The abnormal color under his eyes struck guilt through to his core. He wished so very much that he could simply cast silencing charms around his room, so that the older man would never know he was having a nightmare, so that he would sleep instead of looking after him. He hated that this man was giving so much up for him.

So there he stood, watching Snape sleep in his big, dark brown chair. Watching to make sure he didn’t die. In his dreams, Snape had started to die along with the rest of the people he cared about. Sometimes, Harry didn’t even know if he was in a dream or if it was real. He hated that most of all because it was the scariest part.

He knew he shouldn’t have to do this. That didn’t make the need stop.

As he tried to convince himself that Snape wasn’t going to die the moment he took his eyes off him, a distraction knocked at the door. Harry opened the door, peering up into the face of none other than Remus Lupin.

“Hello, Harry.”

The boy reached up and put a finger to his lips before letting the man in. Remus glanced around and spotted Snape, instantly understanding. He ushered Harry back into the guest bedroom and spelled the room silent.

“Well, it’s good to see him getting some sleep…”

Harry nodded, even as he stared at the closed door. He felt his knee start to bounce. Remus watched him, frowning a little as he caught the apprehensiveness in his posture and scent.

“Is something wrong, Harry?”

The knee paused and the boy looked up at him. Those eyes had always pinned him and they were only getting more powerful. There was something that was completely unnerving about seeing Lily’s eyes empty and near lifeless…except for the all encompassing fear.

“Oh, Harry…”

He couldn’t help himself. Remus wrapped Harry up in his arms, only holding tighter when he felt a weak grip on each of his arms and the soft pressure of the boy’s head upon his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it did help some. Harry closed his eyes and let the older man’s warmth calm him.

“Open the door?” Harry whispered as loud as he could. Remus nodded a little and pulled away. He watched as the tense fear filled the boy again and felt immensely saddened. As he opened the door, breaking the silencing charm, he watched Harry’s gaze lock onto Snape’s form, and then watched him slowly relax. It was with a jolt that he realized what was going on. This worried him far more than the boy’s quietness.

Soon enough, he said his quiet goodbye and left the two to their own. Harry moved back into the main room and went back to his silent vigil.

Remus, however, made his way to the Headmaster’s office. He got the password on the second time (“Peanut Butter Cups”) and went up. When he got there, Dumbledore was in the middle of a conversation with one of the portraits. The old man paused and glanced over at the door before smiling.

“Hello, Remus,” he said cheerfully.

“Albus,” Remus greeted with a nod of his head before dropping into a seat before the desk. Dumbledore seated himself and took a lemon drop from the tray in one corner.

“Something is distressing you, my boy,” he said sagely.

“It’s Harry,” the wolf replied quietly. “I’ve just come from visiting him…”

“We are all worried for the dear boy…” The sad tone to the headmaster’s voice tore at Remus’ heart.

“I think he needs to get out of the dungeons. Growing boys need sunlight and fun and…” He shoved a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Merlin, Albus, he was staring at Severus as if the man would die right in front of him! He’s obsessing over it!”

Dumbledore sighed softly and sat back, his eyes mournful. “Harry has, indeed, been traumatized these past years… I had hoped Severus would be able to help heal him, to get through to him… They are so very much alike…”

“Any other day,” Remus began quietly, “and I would never have thought that possible. They hated each other so deeply, Albus… I don’t know what changed, but it happened so fast that it seems they’re two completely different people now.”

“Such is the nature of compassion,” Dumbledore said with a sad smile. “Severus saw the need to protect and Harry needed someone to hold onto. That they came to see each other in those positions was fortunate and may mean healing on both sides…”

“But Harry-“

“It will take time, Remus.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Trust their strength.”

Remus nodded a little, but after what he had seen, he wondered if he really could.

“Why is he still here, Mother?” Draco Malfoy muttered obstinately as he glared down his nose at the intruder into his house. Arms folded of his chest and back straight, he looked every inch the aristocrat. Sirius wanted to strangle him.

“Our Lord’s wishes are not to be questioned,” Narcissa replied in her polite, quiet tone, never looking from her book. She had been sitting alone with Sirius in the parlor when her son came in to investigate the new house guest. He was not at all pleased.

“Mother, even the elves clean and clothe themselves better,” he sneered. Narcissa glanced up and raised a brow.

“Complaining is not becoming of you, my son,” she said. Her voice was as light and pleasant as ever, but her expression made it clear that this was a warning. Draco frowned and dropped to sit next to her on the white couch. “In any case, Mr. Black will be staying with us for a good while, so I expect you to treat him with the level of respect expected of a good host. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mother,” Draco conceded. His stormy gray eyes spoke of rebeliousness, but Sirius had a feeling that he wouldn’t be bothered. Over the past few days, when he caught the two together, he noted the strong bond between mother and son. They would do anything for one another.

As Draco continued to seethe, Narcissa closed her book and set it down before pinning their guest with her gray eyed stare. Sirius stared resolutely back.

“We must do something about those robes,” she said finally, making her son smirk with triumph. He glanced down at himself, noting the ragtag robes he had been wearing since escaping the veil. Narcissa tapped her chin. “We shall have to summon the tailor then. Draco, if you would?”

“Yes, Mother,” replied the boy. He got up to do so, leaving them be. Narcissa watched him go and sighed a little.

“He is a good boy,” she murmured softly. Sirius propped his head on his fist.

“It’s very clear that he’d do anything you asked of him,” he countered cautiously. Narcissa smiled a little.

“Yes, it is.”

“And in response, you’ve handed him over to a maniacal wizard bent on world domination.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him.

“What?”

The complete and utter shock on her face could have been explained away by his gall, but he had the feeling that wasn’t the case. She continued to stare at him for a while before a sudden look of comprehension came over her.

“You think we’ve been marked?”

It was Sirius’s time to stare. “Haven’t you?”

“Goodness, no!” Narcissa frowned at him, shifting to be more comfortable. “Draco and I have not and will not be marked. We have a deal with the Dark Lord. My husband’s marking was his own dealing, not ours. Besides which, Draco is sixteen!”

Sirius blinked. “When why on earth are you serving him?”

“I have my reasons,” replied Narcissa sternly. Her closed off expression was enough of a hint that the conversation was closed. Sirius sighed and sat back. Before long, Draco returned.

“She’ll be here this evening, after a few other jobs. I told her not to hurry.”

“Thank you, Draco.”

The boy stood by his mother and looked over at Sirius, frowning again. The animagas had the impression that it was not simply that he was there, but that anyone at all had intruded. The way he stood next to the couch, as if ready to jump in front of it at any moment, was more proof of the protectiveness he felt. Draco didn’t just hate him being there, he hated anyone that might disrupt his home any more than it already had. Sirius had to wonder what the boy was feeling, so soon after his father’s incarceration.

“You look tired,” Narcissa said suddenly. “Perhaps you would prefer to retire to your rooms, Cousin?”

Well, that was a veiled hint if he had ever heard one. “Yes, I think I will. Thank you for the pleasant evening, Narcissa.”

“The pleasure is mine,” she replied with a little smile.

As Sirius left them, he could hear Draco’s unpleased muttering about dogs in the house and wondered if he should feel vindictive towards the boy.

“Are you sure about this?”

“As much as I ever have been, Professor.” Those vibrant eyes undid him every time. But still…

“This spell borders on Dark, Miss Evans…”

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” she hissed back.

“Then let us begin.”

Thus they worked. He instructed her calmly and gently, letting her feel and understand the whole working of the spell, the ritual, the working… He watched the magics fill her and complete her, watched her bend them to her will and create such wonder…

By Merlin and all things holy, she was beautiful.

When they were finished, when the exhaustion was too much to continue, she gifted him with her brilliant smile.

“Thank you, Professor,” she murmured.

“It was nothing for my favorite pupil.”

Her expression saddened just slightly but he didn’t know why. Then it was gone and he wondered if it had been there at all.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Miss Evans.”

Conditions Met:
1. Voldemort must be Harry's father
3. Sirius comes back