FIC: The Traveler in the Dark Title: The Traveler in the Dark Author:nestinghedwig Other pairings/threesome: brief mention of Alecto Carrow/Amycus Carrow/Harry Potter Rating: R Word count: 7,450 Prompt: High in the cool mountains Warning(s): AU. Brief mention of non-con, dubious consent, incest, disownment Summary: When the Dark Lord discovers Harry is an accidental Horcrux, Severus intervenes and Harry's life takes a surprising turn. A/N: Written for the summer challenge16 at Snape_Potter Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended; no monetary gain will be made from this story.
The Traveler in the Dark
Harry Potter stood in the darkness and stared up at the celestial feast above him. Millions of stars glittered against the pitch black sky, bordered by the dense canopy of trees circling his cottage and workshop.
His bright green eyes searched the summer night sky until he located Vega, and her constellation Lyra. Using Vega as the marker, he located Altair and then, finally, Deneb. This trio of stars were known as the Summer Triangle. He began searching out other familiar summertime constellations.
All those late night Astronomy classes hadn't been a waste of time after all, he thought, wryly.
Halfway up the side of a mountain, Harry was far removed from the lights and sounds of civilization. He lost himself in the magnificence of the night sky.
From the trees beyond his clearing, he could hear the soft bark of owls, the drone of insects, the creak of tree branches, and the rustle of leaves. He shivered involuntarily as the death scream of a nocturnal rodent cut through the night, a meal for one of the many birds of prey.
A twig snapped loudly not too far from where the young man stood, followed by a crunching sound in the undergrowth. Gooseflesh and hair rose on his arms as Harry peered into the darkness. He didn't know if it was his imagination or not, but the sense that someone or something was marking his movements became overwhelming.
Isolated as he was, Harry held a healthy respect for the four footed predators living in the wilderness surrounding his plot of land, but it was the two legged predator he feared more. He gripped his wand firmly in his right hand and quickened his pace. He placed his palm flat against his door, feeling the wards recognize him.
He stepped into the welcoming shelter of his cottage and slid the safety bolt home. Forehead resting against the surface of the solid door, Harry took calm breaths, willing his racing heart to settle. The parseltongue wards protecting his home snapped back into place, proof that no one waited in the darkened room to attack him.
A wolf howled at the edge of the clearing, answered by a more distant howl. Confident his "stalker" had been four legged and not two, Harry cast a silent, wandless spell, illuminating the interior of the small cottage, banishing both the shadows and his fear.
********* Using four double-pointed needles and keeping to the established pattern of knit one - purl one, Harry carefully bound off the neckline of the turtleneck jumper he was knitting. The soft evergreen merino wool slid through his fingers as he cast off the final stitch. He ran his fingers over the stitches, thinking how warm it would feel when icy winds once again controlled the mountain side.
As he wrapped the remaining length of wool back onto the ball, his mind began to wander. He vividly remembered Hermione frantically knitting hats in a misguided attempt to free the Hogwarts house elves. Harry blinked back a tear as he dropped the yarn ball into a basket beside his feet. It was not wise to think too much about the past.
Hearing his teakettle begin to whistle, Harry folded the completed jumper and set it on top of the yarn basket. Walking over to the wall containing his small kitchen, he filled his circular mesh infuser with loose tea leaves and set it into the waiting tea pot. He poured the boiling water over the infuser, filling the belly of the simple white pot with steaming water.
Waiting for the tea to steep, Harry examined his reflection in the kitchen window. The gold rectangular spectacle frames did nothing to soften the harsh planes of his face. The young man ran his palm over the top of his head. His trademark wild nest of hair was now shorn so close to his scalp it felt like an animal pelt. Never again would he grow his hair long enough for anyone to be able to grab a handful of it.
There was likely enough green wool left over to knit a matching watch cap, he mused. Exposed as they were, his ear tips would probably be the first thing to get cold.
A soft chiming noise echoed in the quiet room as Harry sat in an overstuffed chair, sipping his tea. He reached over to pluck a two-way journal from the side table. The chiming fell silent. The journal, a gift from his benefactor, now contained a message that needed to be addressed. Setting his mug aside, Harry opened the leather bound book and began to read.
********* Severus Snape Apparated into the clearing late the next morning. He strode through the grass, still heavy with dew, soaking the hems of his trousers and robe. With much of the sun unable to penetrate the thick canopy of trees, the majority of the yard still fell in shadows. Accustomed to the dimness of his dungeons, the shade did not concern him, but Severus did wonder if the continual gloom increased depressive episodes for Harry.
Uncertain where the younger man might be, the potions master walked past the little clapboard cottage. The door was closed and the windows were dark. He doubted Harry was still inside, the tasks sent the evening before would have caused an early start to his day.
Even if he was still in his cottage, Severus would have waited for him at the barn. The cottage, small as it was, was Harry's sanctuary. Harry had never invited him into his home in all the time he had lived on the side of this mountain, and Severus didn't foresee an invitation anytime soon.
He headed toward the barn Harry used as a workshop. One half of the barn door was propped open, the only welcome Severus would receive. The dark wizard pushed aside the rock holding the door ajar with the side of his foot and closed it behind him. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the low light of the barn.
The walls of the barn were lined with a number of large glass tanks and terrariums. Each container was climate controlled, complete with a miniaturized environment specific to each species housed within. Reticulated and ball pythons, ashwinders, boa constrictors, black and green mambas, black adders, runespoors, and other snakes not readily identifiable from a distance, lined two of the walls. A third wall held Harry's collection of frogs, toads, salamanders, skinks, and a variety of additional lizards. Cages of rats and mice vied for space on shelves filled with tanks of crickets and other small insects kept to feed the reptiles and amphibians.
Severus set a large bottomless bag onto one of the long worktables running down the center of the workroom. He pulled out a tall stool and settled himself onto the seat. A hanging lamp lowered from the tall ceiling and illuminated the work surface. He momentarily wondered if movement self-triggered the enchantment on the lamp as neither Harry nor himself had cast any spells.
His back straight, he waited patiently for Harry to acknowledge him.
********* Harry was aware Severus had entered his work space, but he was in the middle of the delicate and dangerous task of milking the venom from a black adder, the most poisonous snake native to the British Isles. He returned the agitated snake to a temporary tank, willing to wait for it to calm down before returning it to its nest mates. The young wizard sealed the labeled vial and placed it in a rack beside other venom collected earlier that morning.
Removing first the leather gauntlets protecting his forearms from snakebite, and then his gloves, Harry finally met the dark eyes of the other wizard. He nodded his head once in greeting before pulling his protective goggles down to hang around his neck. Walking to a sink, he proceeded to thoroughly scrub his hands.
While waiting for Harry to join him, Severus removed his journal from the bottomless bag and opened it to the page containing the list of potions ingredients he had requested the night before. He reached into the bag, removing a compartmentalized chest designed specifically for the transport of potion ingredients and then, he reached into the bag a final time to retrieve a small silver box decorated with runes.
He placed the silver box further down the work table, out of the way. He had no idea what the box held, only that it was heavily warded. He had been requested to hand deliver it directly to Harry by one of the nameless Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries.
********* Standing on the other side of the worktable, Harry pushed a frosted glass jar across the smooth metal surface with a single finger. The jar contained a solitary frozen ashwinder egg, the first item on Severus' list.
Severus examined the specimen, nodding once, and then placing it into a waiting compartment within the potion's chest. Harry set a terrarium containing approximately a dozen blue-nosed skinks beside an empty jar and a set of tongs. Leaving the potions master to select his own skink, Harry collected the next two ingredients on the list.
Because the majority of the reptiles and amphibians required desert, tropical or subtropical environments, it was very warm in the barn. Severus removed his outer robe, draping it over the table. As he rolled up the sleeves on his white dress shirt, he realized the silver box was missing. He had not seen Harry remove it and that surprised him. Usually he was much more aware of his surroundings.
While Harry was across the room, carefully rolling a length of recently shed reticulated python snake skin for ease of transport, Severus cast a non-verbal Leglimens at the unsuspecting wizard.
As Severus delved into the younger man's mind, he stepped into a world of total darkness. Bright little diamonds of light began to appear haphazardly, glowing against the black backdrop. Slowly, ever so slowly, the diamonds became stars and the stars began to form into recognizable constellations - Lyra, Draco, Aquila, Cygnus, Cassiopeia, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Severus made out the Summer Triangle - Deneb, Altair, and Vega - just before the stars seemed to implode, forcing him out of Harry's mind.
Impressed, Severus raised an eyebrow. Harry rolled his eyes upward a single time and then returned to his task of rolling the skin.
The shielding of his mind showed vast improvement over the last time Severus had tested Harry's shields. The use of constellations was a new construct and the dark wizard wondered if it would always represent the summer sky, or if Harry's mindscape was sophisticated enough to change with the seasons.
Harry had traditionally struggled with Occulmancy. Perhaps his isolation had finally given him the means to build his concentration skills, but how had he improved so significantly without instruction? Severus pushed the question to the back of his mind. Harry was not going to tell him, so he would need to examine how the images were built and look for weakness in the construct.
Severus was so busy examining Harry's mindscape, he missed the look of dread that crossed Harry's features upon seeing the older man unbutton the top two buttons on his shirt.
********* Severus compared his list of potions ingredients against the specimens secured within his potions trunk. The potency of many of the potions he brewed had increased with the addition of the harvest-on-order products Harry provided. And due to their unique collaboration, his profit margins had increased as well.
The older man slid his journal into a pocket in the lid of the trunk, closed the chest, locking it securely with a whispered Defigo. He walked around the table and addressed the other man.
"Potter...Harry...The Dark Lord..."
The bright green eyes met his and then closed. Harry dropped gracefully to his knees and reached out, unbuttoning the first button on Severus' trousers.
Severus gently ran his fingers through the short, soft bristles of hair. Guilt washed over him as he stared out at the stark room. Still petting Harry's scalp, he reached down with his other hand and clasped the other wizard's fingers, stopping him from unbuttoning the second button on the trouser placket.
"This is not necessary," Severus spoke softly. "I will never demand you offer yourself when only you and I are present."
The dark wizard rebuttoned his trousers.
"I merely meant to warn you that Nagini will need milked soon."
********* Harry ignored the gentle ruffle of his hair. The barest sign of affection from Severus made the current situation even harder to bear. He pushed himself up to a standing position and began fastening the protective gauntlets back onto his forearms.
He heard the potions master collect his outer robe and potions chest and then walk toward the exit. The briefest flash of daylight, followed by the dull thump of the barn door, signaled that Severus had left the workroom. At the sharp crack of Apparation, Harry let out a breath he was not aware the was holding.
After returning the black adder to its tank, Harry checked the water levels in each of the containers, and then noted which reptiles and amphibians were on the schedule to be fed. Since many of the larger specimens did not eat every day, Harry kept meticulous notes on when and what they ate.
Harry selected an especially fat rat from the rat cage. In a panic, it immediately urinated down the front of his robe. The terrified rat tried to wriggle out of Harry's hands, but its struggle proved useless. He placed the rat into a feeding box and slid it into an enclosure housing a reticulated python. He turned away, not wanting to witness the rat's fruitless attempts at escape.
Truth be told, Harry identified with the unfortunate rodent. His workroom and cottage gave the illusion of freedom, but the edges of the forest clearing delineated the walls of his prison. His life, such as it was, hung on the whims of a madman and the Horcrux he carried in his scar.
Harry removed his protective gear and spread his work robe open on the metal table. Using the nearly worthless wand he had been given, Harry cast a Scourgify on the urine and venom stained fabric. The magic felt weak and sluggish, a sure sign the wand was incompatible to him.
If a wand did truly choose a wizard, the apple wood and unicorn hair wand [1] never would have chosen Harry as it's wizard in the first place.
********* Severus Apparated into the back gardens of Malfoy Manor, startling a trio of albino peacocks who shrieked in alarm. He set down the potions chest and made himself presentable, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on his robe. He picked up the chest and began walking toward the manor house. One of the men guarding the Apparation point fell in step beside him.
"Had yourself that fine piece of arse, eh?" Mulciber smirked. "Is he still whispering endearments in your ear as you fuck him?"
Severus fixed the other wizard with a quelling glare. Mulciber's smirk faded.
"You really need to start sharing him again, Snape. It's only fair." The Death Eater turned back toward his guard post and called over his shoulder, "He wants to see you as soon as you are back."
Avery was waiting at one of the French doors opening out into the garden. He pushed open the door.
"Snape," he rumbled.
"Avery," Severus acknowledged his fellow dark wizard.
"The Dark Lord wishes to see you immediately. He is in the library."
Severus nodded his head and entered into the rear of the manor. He set the chest onto a side table and took a moment to reinforce his Occulmancy shields before calling a house elf to take the chest to the brewing room in the Malfoy dungeons.
Severus passed Alecto Carrow on his way to the library. In her ninth month of pregnancy with twins, she was uncomfortable and ungainly. He nodded his head once in greeting but did not speak with her. She was an unpleasant witch even on her best day. Alecto returned the nod only because he was a notorious potions master and a favorite of the Dark Lord, otherwise she would have ignored the half-blood upstart entirely.
The dark wizard stopped at the closed door to the Malfoy library. Goyle Senior and Goyle Junior guarded the entrance.
"He's been waiting for you," Senior grunted and pushed open the door. The large man entered and dropped to his knees. "Severus Snape has arrived, Master."
"Leave us," Voldemort ordered. Goyle let Severus pass into the room and then closed the door behind him as he left the library.
Severus dropped gracefully to one knee in front of the seated Dark Lord and bowed his head.
"You have just returned from the mountains?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And our herpetologist?"
"Potter is fulfilling his duties. His reptiles are healthy and well taken care of." Severus glanced up, but did not meet the red eyes. "He does not appear to be a danger to himself."
"Has he spoken to you?"
"No, Master."
"Is there still damage? Does he require a healer?
"No, Master. I think he is mute by choice, not trauma. I..." Severus paused. "He is withdrawn and slightly depressed. He will speak when he determines it is necessary."
"Does my little serpent require a minder?"
"I do not think him suicidal. In any event, I will have my house elf keep a closer watch on him."
"Make sure that it does. Nagini needs milked in two days. You may go."
Severus relaxed fractionally as he left the library wing. He had not received a Crucio and Harry was safe for another two days.
********* Voldemort watched the stoic potions master leave the room and thought back to the debacle that was The-Boy-Who-Lived. Early in his rebirth, he realized that he shared a connection with Harry and that the connection felt suspiciously similar to the connection he shared with Nagini. While he had deliberately made Nagini into a living Horcrux, he realized he had also created an accidental Horcrux in the infant Potter.
With the knowledge that the young wizard was a soul anchor, Voldemort switched from trying to kill the boy to trying to capture him. To insure in immortality, he needed to have absolute control over each Horcrux.
Determining that he had split his soul into too many parts, Voldemort sought to reabsorb his non-living Horcrux. The soul anchor in his diary had been lost due to Lucius Malfoy's carelessness. That negligence had also brought death to the ancient basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, so Malfoy had been doubly cursed. The Dark Lord's anger at the loss of the Horcrux housed in the Gaunt Family ring was tempered; the protective curses he placed upon it had led to the death of the great Albus Dumbledore. And having re-absorbed the anchors in both Ravenclaw's Diadem and Hufflepuff's Cup, he did note a marked improvement in his mental state.
It was ironic that when Death Eaters finally captured The Chosen One, the eighteen-year-old Harry had been in the process of stealing Slytherin's Locket back from a Ministry underling. That the young wizard knew enough about Horcrux to actually hunt them and had the resources to destroy them was alarming.
Voldemort still savored the anguish Harry experienced when the young wizard learned that not only was he, himself, a Horcrux, but that his beloved mentor, Dumbledore, had always known what evil was embedded in his lightning bolt scar. Discovering that he had only ever been viewed as a weapon, that the Lord of Light had raised him to be the proverbial lamb for slaughter, sent the young man into an emotional tailspin.
Still reeling from Dumbledore's death, the capture of The Chosen One proved a devastating blow to the Light. While there was still sporadic resistance, the majority of the witches and wizards, Dark, Light, and Neutral, soon accepted the inevitable and went on with their daily lives. The ancient practice of taking hostages was put into effect and dissenters found themselves forcefully 're-educated', imprisoned, or executed. Blood Traitors and Mudbloods fled in the night, taking their families and friends into the Muggle world or to locations far from the British Isles. And when no information surfaced about the fate of Harry Potter, it was quickly assumed that he, as well, was dead.
But Harry did not die. His holly wand seized, an enchantment was placed upon his name to prevent knowledge of his continued existence beyond the walls of Malfoy Manor. With the stipulation that he must remain alive, relatively sane, and with no lasting disfigurement, a defenseless Harry was left to roam the manor. Once the amusement of random curses and hexes faded, Harry soon found himself passed around as a sexual plaything.
After several wizards took Harry repeatedly on the dining room table in full view of everyone attempting to eat breakfast one morning, Severus nonchalantly mentioned that while any wizard could be trained to be a whore, it was a unique individual that could converse with snakes, and that perhaps Harry's skills could be better utilized.
And Harry's training in herpetology began.
********* Harry inhaled the aroma of freshly baked bread as he entered his cottage. Two loaves of bread, one white and the other multi-grain, stood cooling on the oak kitchen table. His stomach rumbled in anticipation.
A quick search of his kitchen showed that his icebox and pantry had been replenished, once again, by the house elf he had never seen. The weekly food delivery was part of the compensation he received for supplying Severus his reptile and amphibian ingredients. He plucked an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into the slightly tart flesh.
Beside the fruit bowl sat a bundle of post. He untied the collection of periodicals, sorting the latest issue of Herpetology Today, Frog Fancy, and The Potioneer's Almanac from back issues of The Daily Prophet. There were no personal letters. There never were.
He didn't know if Severus was being deliberately cruel providing copies of the wizarding newspaper, or if he thought Harry had an interest in current events. Unless he was feeling especially masochistic, or Severus had marked a particular article, he usually just lined the bottom of the rat and mouse cages with the pages of The Daily Prophet without ever reading a word of it.
Imprisoned as he was, it was just too painful to read about a world he would never again be a part of.
Another part of his payment was in a covered woven box sitting on his overstuffed side chair. Harry lifted the lid and gave an amused snort at the contents. There were enough skeins of midnight blue yarn to knit another jumper, but, interspersed with the dark blue yarn, were individual skeins of bright pink, orange, white and yellow. Severus' house elf obviously thought he needed brighter colors in his wardrobe. Previous boxes had included yarn in a crayon box of greens, blues, purples and reds.
Beneath the yarn were two books. He quickly set aside the heavy reference book on insects, but smiled at the other. It was the latest novel in a Muggle mystery series both Severus and Harry enjoyed about a little girl named Flavia who liked to study poisons [2]. Harry couldn't wait to read it.
********* In the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, Severus brewed a series of infant-strength potions, as well as a potent Blood Replenisher in the event of hemorrhage. Alecto had experienced several episodes of false labor, so it was only a matter of time before the Carrow twins were born. While he was not anticipating any problems, childbirth could easily become traumatic.
********* Harry pulled the silver box from his pocket and sat down at his desk. He spread his left hand over the lid, pulling his little finger hard against a sharp corner, drawing blood. He ran the bloodied digit over the runes inscribed on the box top. The silver box slowly tripled in size and the top panel flipped open on a hidden hinge. Harry carefully removed the contents.
Being one of the only two known British parseltongues, the Department of Mysteries occasionally sent Harry documents they suspected might be in the serpent language for identification. Once he verified that the writing was indeed in parseltongue, he would first skim the document to determine the subject matter, and if the Unspeakables decided it currently warranted the effort, contracted him to provide a translation of the scroll or book.
Harry looked forward to these deliveries. They often sent him copies of obscure books dealing primarily with reptiles and amphibians for his own research, but also sent subjects their librarian thought he might be interested in. Between Severus and the Unspeakables, he was amassing quite the library in his little house.
He separated the stack of blank workbooks for his translations, blank journals for his final translations, ink bottles, quills and nibs, white cotton gloves, the books they wanted him to look at, and finally, at the bottom of the box, a two-way journal to communicate directly with the apprentice librarian.
And that two-way journal was the reason he accepted whatever project the Unspeakables sent him, no matter how difficult or boring it may prove to be.
Since the Unspeakables were apolitical and coveted brains over blood status, the day Harry had been captured by Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic, Hermione Jean Granger was plucked from the subsequent chaos by a trio of hooded wizards, and thus found herself under the protection of the Department of Mysteries, safe from the reach of Death Eaters, Pureblood Supremacists, and even the Dark Lord, to some extent. While Harry survived as Voldemort's personal herpetologist, Hermione thrived deep within the Department of Mysteries as an apprentice librarian.
With the cotton gloves protecting the ancient parchment from direct contact with the sweat of his fingers, Harry carefully flipped page by page through a fragile diary written in both parseltongue and an old form of Gaelic. According to a note tucked between the pages, someone else would translate the Gaelic selections once he completed his portion of the project. Usually the parseltongue documents he translated were innocuous - potion recipes, contracts, journals, or personal research on various subjects - and Voldemort only requested a copy of the original if the subject was especially interesting, but this diary was different. The author of the diary had the surname of Gaunt, and Harry knew he would have to get prior approval from the Dark Lord to translate the memoir.
Harry opened the two-way journal and began to read a forbidden letter written in his dear friend's familiar cursive script. They would make certain any personal communication was deleted before this copy of the journal was sent back to the Department of Mysteries, but he suspected the Unspeakables knew about their illicit correspondence and didn't particularly care.
Dear Harry...
********* Alecto breathed out a violent contraction and then spewed vile words at both the midwife and Severus. They had refused to give her anything for the pain, fearing it could cause harm the unborn twins. She gripped her brother Amycus' hand tight enough to break his fingers and screamed through the next contraction.
********* Harry sat at his desk, re-reading The Art of Mind Magic. Written in the late 1700s, the text delved into the art of Occulmancy. Harry had used the exercises written in the book to build his celestial mindscape.
Other than Hermione, who had hidden the small book inside a roll of scrolls, no one else knew Harry had the guide. With Severus and Voldemort accomplished Leglimens, it was imperative that Harry learn to shield his mind. Based on his success at throwing Severus out of his starry night, the exercises were immensely beneficial.
He pulled the desk slightly away from the wall and removed a loose floorboard. He dropped the book into the narrow space, replaced the board and pushed the desk back against the wall.
********* Alecto gave her brother an exhausted smile as her first born, a son, nuzzled at her breast. She ran her fingers gently over the pale blond fuzz on his head. Amycus sat beside her, holding a daughter with a full head of dark hair. Alecto had been in labor for most of the day, and after the boy was born, it was hours later that the girl finally appeared. The birth had taken so long that the fraternal twins had separate birthdays.
Hours later, Amycus stared down at the twins, side by side in a single bassinette, as his beloved sister slept.
The thought unexpectedly went through Harry's mind as his back slid against the uncompromising surface of the metal work table. His legs were over Severus' shoulders and the potions master's fingers dug into his hips as Severus' cock angled in such a way as to hit his prostate. Slowly, methodically the dark wizard drew out pleasure and brought him closer and closer to completion. Harry had to admire Severus' control, even though neither of them desired to be having sex in the middle of the workroom with amphibians, reptiles and the Dark Lord watching them perform.
Harry could feel Voldemort draw closer, both physically and in his mind. He wondered, not for the first time, if the red eyed bastard became sexually aroused watching the debasement of his accidental Horcrux.
Above him, Severus stiffened, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of Harry's hips as he emptied himself into Harry's channel. Breathing heavily, Severus wrapped his fingers around Harry's hard cock and began to stroke him. Harry exploded in an orgasm, and, as he lay back on the table to catch his breath, Voldemort cast Leglimens and crashed into Harry's Occulmancy shields.
Desperately, Harry tried to shore up the walls of his celestial mindscape, to push the wizard out, but Voldemort found a crack in his facade near the constellation Ursa Major and redoubled his attack causing Harry's walls to fall. Painful memories erupted to the surface, and Harry could not stanch the flow.
Amycus Carrow shoving his cock down Harry's throat, his fingers wrapped so tightly in Harry's hair that he pulled it out by the roots. Alecto riding Harry. Alecto riding Amycus. Alecto writhing in pleasure under Harry's tongue and her brother's fingers. Amycus pounding into Harry, who in turn, was forced deep into Alecto's core. The Carrow-Potter-Carrow triad performing in the privacy of a bedroom or in a command performance before the Dark Lord.
Harry felt a wave of arousal that was not his own flood his mind. He was angry. He was disgusted. These were not the memories he wished to re-live. These were not the memories he wished to share with anyone. Harry shoved Voldemort violently out of his mind.
"Well done, little serpent," Voldemort hissed in pleasure. "Come, Nagini."
The Dark Lord and his familiar disappeared in a swirl of black smoke. Harry pushed himself up to a sitting position and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. Dispassionately, he watched Severus pull his trousers up from where they had been in a puddle at his ankles.
Severus' dark, apologetic eyes bore into Harry's, but no words were exchanged. There was noting that could be said. The older man set two potion vials onto the table top, ran his hand over Harry's closely cropped hair and Disapparated.
Harry slid off the tabletop, but his shaking legs could not support him. Mentally, emotionally and physically drained, he collapsed to the floor. Months, years of pain bubbled to the surface and Harry could not stop the sobs that overcame him. He cried and he screamed, and when he had finally cried himself out, a sense of calm enveloped him.
He studied his collection of reptiles, each deadly in their own way, and knew how simple it would be to stage a fatal accident. But he was not suicidal. If his time as a Death Eater sex toy hadn't broken him, this wouldn't break him either.
The months, the years, trapped in Malfoy Manor had not been totally horrific. Not all the witches and wizards had been predators. Narcissa Malfoy, his many times removed cousin, had been revolted by what was going on in her own home by guests that had more than overstayed their welcome. Antonin Dolohov had been surprisingly helpful in Harry's training in herpetology. Rastaban Lestrange introduced him to the joys of backgammon and Blaise Zabini's mother, widowed seven times, had, of all things, taught him how to knit.
Naked, he padded toward the emergency shower in the corner of his workroom. Harry stood beneath the showerhead and meticulously washed away his tears and all signs of their coupling.
********* Harry looked out his kitchen window at the growing darkness. He added several handfuls of fresh peas to the vegetable soup he had simmering on the burner.
Despite the pain potion and the bruise paste, he was still feeling slight aftereffects from his afternoon with Severus. He supposed that, as crass as it sounded, he was a little out of practice. Since his benefactor had dropped him on this Merlin-be-damned mountain, he was no longer being jumped at every turn. He thought back to the hellish threesomes with the incestuous Alecto and Amycus and shuddered.
Of all the memories to reveal, it had to be that particular episode the Dark Lord accessed when his mindscape shattered. Had he imagined the spike of arousal through the mind link he shared with Voldemort? Sweet Circe, what a thought!
Taking the soup off the heat, Harry cut two thick slices of bread. He was slathering butter on one of them when a doe Patronus appeared at his elbow.
"Harry...I will be coming through with someone who requires immediate sanctuary. Please be ready to open your door when I arrive."
It was strange to hear Severus' voice come from the mouth of the female deer.
Harry's heart stopped. Sanctuary. Was Severus bringing Hermione? One of the political dissidents? Grawp? A Weasley?
********* The brisk knock at Harry's door startled him. He had been listening for the crack of Apparation. The potions master and his guest must have arrived by portkey.
Harry opened the door, puzzled when only Severus stood on the step. He peered around the older man, but saw no one standing in the shadows. Looking a second time at Severus, he realized there was something in the man's arms. The wizard gently settled the bundle into Harry's arms.
Perplexed, Harry looked down at the tiny face of a newborn baby. Uncertain what to do with this fragile cargo, and afraid he might drop the infant, he perched at the edge of his chair.
Severus stepped into the cottage and closed the door behind him.
"Vulpecula was born to Alecto Carrow early this morning. Her twin brother was born late last night." Severus reached down and pulled the blanket away from the baby's head, revealing a wild mass of dark hair. Harry looked down at the tiny elfin face and then looked up into Severus' eyes.
"Yes, Harry. She is yours."
A baby. He had made a baby. Harry leaned down and kissed his sleeping daughter's forehead. Questions overwhelmed him, but when he opened his mouth, as usual, nothing came out.
"Alecto has given up all rights to Vulpecula. She refuses to have anything to do with a half-blood's child, even if she did give birth to it."
"No," Harry croaked hoarsely, the word breaking his years of self-imposed silence.
"I'm so sorry, Harry, but your daughter has been disowned. The Carrows want nothing to do with her. If you refuse her, I will have to take her to St. Mungos as a foundling."
"No," Harry said again, his voice a little stronger. He hugged the newborn awkwardly to his chest. "Wrong constellation...wrong stars. Vega...Vega...Henrietta...Potter."
"As in a star in the constellation of Lyra? The uppermost star in the Summer Triangle?"
With Harry's smile, Severus sat at Harry's desk, on the only other chair in the small cottage. He pulled a sheet of loose parchment from a cubbyhole and smoothed it flat on the desk top. "You will need to notify the Ministry and Gringotts of Vega's birth."
"I'm...aren't I supposed to be dead?"
"I think it's just pure speculation. The goblins never sealed the Potter or the Black vaults, so they have always known you are still alive. The Ministry might prove problematic. They may have you on record as one of the political hostages or one of the deceased. I would imagine that one of your friendly librarian's associates could slip a bit of parchment into the Hall of Records."
Vega began to squirm in Harry's arms as she began to awaken. Her eyes, the temporary dark blue that many newborns were born with, opened. The serious little face stared, unfocused, up at her father and then she gave a plaintive wail. Realizing he knew absolutely nothing about babies, Harry looked toward the potions master for help.
"Dot," Severus called and a house elf popped into the kitchen. She snapped her fingers and a filled moses basket appeared on Harry's bed.
"Masters must be eating their soup before it gets cold." Dot ordered as she collected the newborn from Harry's lap. "And Dot will be taking care of Missy Vega."
"But..." Harry watched Dot set the baby in the middle of his bed.
"I will bees showing you what you needs to know, but youse and Little Missy needs to eat right now."
Too bewildered to do anything else but follow the house elf's simple instructions, Harry walked to his kitchen and picked up a bowl. Holding the empty bowl in the palm of his hand, he held it out in Severus' direction. Severus nodded slowly. Harry ladled the soup into two bowls and set them on the kitchen table.
"I can leave Alecto's name off the Birth Certificate, can't I?" Harry took a bite of bread and chewed it thoughtfully. "Who is the other baby's father?"
"Amycus."
"Amycus?" Harry's voice squeaked and his nose wrinkled. He set down his soup spoon. "It's acceptable to have a baby with your own brother?"
But not with a half-blood went unsaid.
"Disgusting, yes. Accepted?" Severus grimaced. "Not so much. Usually those families stick to marrying their cousins."
Not wanting to dwell on the stability, or instability, of the Carrow gene pool, they finished their dinner in silence. Harry re-focused his attention on Vega, learning from Dot how to give her a bath.
"Severus, I want to thank you for this. For Vega, for the cottage, for everything you've done or tried to do for me."
Severus, unused to praise, tried to push it away, but couldn't help the warm pool of emotions that settled in his chest.
"So, does this mean you'll be talking from now on?"
"To you, Vega and Dot? Yes. Perhaps Nagini when I'm milking her. But to the others? No. I have absolutely nothing to say to them."
********* Harry sat in his overstuffed chair and, for the first time in a long time, contemplated his future. Nestled in his arms was the ultimate birthday gift, his very own celestial star. Vega had been born in the early hours of July 31st, just as he had arrived twenty-one years before. It was odd to think that they shared a birthday, something Vega did not even share with her own former twin.
Harry studied the contents of his small cottage, at his meager furnishings, and knew changes had to be made to the floor plan. Vega would need a place to play and a room of her own.
He looked down and found his daughter wide awake in his arms. He wrapped her tightly in her blanket and carried her to the door. It was time for Vega to meet her namesake.
Harry stood in the middle of the clearing and looked up into the midnight sky. Millions of stars glowed against the darkness, but his attention was drawn to only one. Even though he knew she would have no comprehension of what he was doing, Harry pointed into the darkness above, singling out the bright star, Vega.
He looked away from the stars, feeling the warm weight of his daughter in his arms. Quietly he began to sing a song he had not sung since he was a very small child.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,[3] How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone, When the nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night
In the starlight, he could see Vega's eyes begin to droop. He would ask Hermione to check if they needed to perform any rituals to protect his little star from the taint of her birth mother and if they needed to perform a blood adoption to keep her magic balanced. If anyone knew those answers, they would be found the Department of Mysteries.
And he also needed to figure out, soon, how he was supposed to work with poisonous reptiles with an infant strapped to his chest. But that would be another day. He began to sing another verse in the lullaby as Vega's eyes drifted shut.
Then the traveller in the dark Thanks you for your tiny sparks; He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so.
In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
With Vega asleep in his arms, Harry slowly made his way back toward his cottage. He paused, listening to the night sounds and cast his eyes skyward once again.
As he stared into the sky, he began to take note of the colors. Twinkling diamonds of pale pink, purple, blue, green and yellow mixed with those of cream and white. His mind shifted to the skeins of crayon colored yarn Dot kept giving him.
Even though it was the last day of July, cold winter winds would soon overtake the mountain. Harry's fingers itched to cast on the stitches he would need to create the first in a long line of brightly colored blankets he would knit for his daughter.
"Happy Birthday, Vega," Harry whispered, as he stepped into his cottage, his sanctuary, hidden on the side of the cold mountain.
*********
Notes: [1] Wandlore (additional information can be found on Pottermore) Apple is a gentle, outdoorsy wood that finds favor with a student skilled in Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures. It tends to get overwhelmed easily, and rarely has a powerful core. Unicorn hair is a subtle wand core, but is quite compatible with Charms and Transfiguration. It is also the best core for healing, as it picks up some of the healing capabilities of unicorn blood. Unicorn hair has a reputation of picking gentler or more cerebral users.
[2] Flavia is a character created by Alan Bradley. She is an aspiring chemist with a passion for poison. She is also eleven years old. (I am playing with the timeline - the first Flavia novel wasn't published until 2009.)
[3] First written as a poem by Jane Taylor (1783–1824) and published with the title "The Star" in Rhymes for the Nursery by Jane and her sister Ann Taylor (1782–1866) in London in 1806, it later was published as a song in The Singing Master: First Class Tune Book in 1838.