Chapter Text
"Come on, Draco. Finish your hot chocolate and then we'll get you settled in your bed. Tomorrow, it's time for presents. I am sure you want to be wide awake for that."
Severus lovingly petted the five-year-old's hair. He had loved his godson from the first moment, and though many years had gone by in the interim, that love had not diminished. Severus pressed a kiss to the white blonde boy's forehead and gently lifted the sleepy child from the rug in front of the fireplace.
"Uncle Sev?" the child softly questioned.
"Yes, Draco?"
"Why are mother and father not here?"
Severus clenched his teeth. "Your parents love you, Draco, and would enjoy nothing more than to celebrate Christmas together with you. But sometimes, life has other plans and we cannot do what we want most. Right at this moment, your parents cannot come to Hogwarts, and neither can you and I go where they are."
Severus felt absolutely no desire to explain to the five-year-old all about Azkaban and was happy when Draco did not inquire further into the Whys and Hows of his parents' absence. Probably he was simply too tired to care just now. Instead, he sleepily queried: "Do you love me too, Uncle Sev?"
"Of course I love you," Severus reassured Draco and gently put him down on his bed.
Draco smiled at Severus out of half-lidded eyes. "I love you too, Sev. Christmas will be so much fun!"
Severus smiled back at the boy. "Sleep tight, Draco."
Neither of the two took note of the armchair stood in one corner of the room. Out of its depths, two sad green eyes watched the harmonic scene with desperate longing.
The morning of the 25th of December, Severus had trouble getting out of bed. He had been up all night working on a potion to return Draco and Potter to their true ages. Merlin only knew why the two boys had to start a fight in the last class before Christmas break that would have such devastating consequences! Severus had not been aware of the possibility of turning a simple silver-cleaning solution into a Youth Draught by adding just a single ingredient at the wrong time.
But he could always rely on Potter to do the impossible. That boy managed time after time to turn completely harmless situations into disasters of the proportions of a nuclear war.
Potter.
For once, Severus had the chance to experience again the totally innocent boy Draco had been before Lucius began twisting him into something else, something darker; a Draco who didn't yet strut about like a peacock and probably had not a single thought in his head involving Voldemort, much less parroting Death Eater propaganda even long after the monster's final death. In short: his Draco as he knew him from before and whom he missed dearly.
And what had Albus done? Saddled him with Potter. "The sooner you find a solution, the better it will be for everyone involved," Albus' voice echoed in his thoughts. "I believe having both boys about will inspire you to give this task your best effort."
And Merlin damn the old man's ever-twinkling eyes!
Severus knew exactly what Albus was planning. He probably thought that now all of Harry's friends had left the castle, there was no one to protest if the boy was left with him. That might even be true. Yet Albus also seemed to believe that upon seeing the five year old child, Severus would spontaneously forget who the brat's father was. Ha! The day he started to like Potter would be the day Albus stopped eating lemon drops and the Chudley Cannons won the British Championship!
In a rather dark mood, Severus stepped into the children's room the House Elves had hastily put together. Draco was already awake and fairly bouncing on his bed in excitement. "Uncle Sev, Uncle Sev, can I open my presents now?"
The dark clouds in Severus' mind were blown away as though by a strong, refreshing wind. "Yes you may, little rascal!"
Potter, he simply refused to think about.
It wasn't until lunchtime that Severus noticed anything wrong. Or rather, he was made aware of it; he hadn't noticed. Severus's world was in perfect order, thank you very much. Draco had opened his presents and been happy with every single one of them. They had christened the new set of Gobstones together and really, the day couldn't get any better.
No, it was Draco who eventually asked Severus: "Uncle Sev? Where did the other boy go? He was here yesterday."
Severus frowned. Where was Potter? Now that he thought about it... he hadn't seen the boy all day. Probably still asleep. Lazy sod, he thought with some misgivings. Still, the situation made him a little uncomfortable.
"I will go and check on him," he said and left Draco to his games with the mashed potatoes to see what Potter was doing. With a flourish he opened the door of the children's room, ready to scold Potter for his annoying existence and unparalleled laziness, only -
Potter wasn't there.
Now Severus really got angry. Why did this child always have to cause trouble! Just like his father!
Severus was not about to play hide-and-seek with the Potter brat. As if!
"Point me Harry Potter."
The wand rotated a few times in the palm of Severus' hand. Then it stabilized, pointing straight at the wall beside the door. Severus blinked. Did Potter have his Invisibility Cloak with him? He checked the wall in front of him with searchingly extended fingers.
But then Severus remembered the five year old Potter's shock at his first contact with Magic. He was clueless enough about his heritage to pass for a Muggle. Honestly, such ignorance !
At any rate, it was highly impossible that Potter would have known how to use the garment, even if it had somehow made its way down into his dungeons. No Potter in front of this wall.
Behind it, then.
Severus returned to the living room, where Draco was busy drawing tracks in his potatoes with the sauce and making the peas sail those dangerous waters. The wand was definitely pointing to outside his quarters. Damn. Severus used up the rest of his patience to keep himself from cursing out loud. And of course, all of his colleagues had gone to Edinburgh for a night out on the town, since surprisingly, this year none of the students had remained for Christmas. Except, of course, for the two five-year-olds, but Severus was surely doing a great job taking care of those two on his own, wasn't he?
Just because he hadn't killed Potter yet for his stupidity in seven years of school didn't mean he wasn't going to now, did it? Severus froze. Hold that thought.
Killed.
What if the boy had come to harm? Much as he hated the child, Potter was currently under his guardianship, and thus it was his responsibility to care for his physical well-being. If Potter had sneaked out of the castle to make trouble elsewhere, this was also Severus's fault. And Merlin prevent anything from happening to the boy while he was out doing whatever mischief!
"Draco, I think the boy has gone outside. I am going to look for him. Will you be fine for a few minutes on your own?"
Draco happily waved at him with his spoon. Severus bit back a comment about the sauce Draco's action splattered all over the table cloth, and merely nodded. The moment he was out the door, he called a House Elf to inconspicuously keep an eye on Draco. Should anything happen to Draco while Severus was chasing Potter, he really wouldn't be able to forgive himself.
Keeping his palm with his wand acting as a compass needle pointing towards Potter extended in front of him, Severus paced the length of Hogwarts's halls with hurried steps. Soon there could be no doubt that Potter had left the castle. When Severus crossed the Entrance Hall and stepped out into the grounds, the formerly suppressed cursing finally broke through: His wand was pointing straight into the heart of the Forbidden Forest.
Two long hours later, Severus finally reached his destination. The woods opened onto a small clearing ahead of him. During the summer, it was probably overgrown with moss, but today, a thick layer of snow was covering the ground and all the plants. Only back there, underneath the big oak tree, a few patches between the enormous roots had remained free of the snow.
On one of those roots sat Potter.
He looked incredibly small and vulnerable, crouched as he was amongst the snowy roots in nothing but his thin pyjamas. But that wasn't the reason why the blood suddenly left Severus' face. No, it was the bird perched on a root facing Potter with its shimmering black, silky feathers and measuring a good six feet.
A Bird of Death.
According to legend, these creatures only showed themselves around the turn of the year. They were messengers from the Underworld; not, however, from Hades, like the Hell Hounds, but rather sent by the dead, called up by the approaching death of a family member. They were sent to guide the soul of the newly deceased safely to their family through the turmoil of the turning of the years. Severus had always taken them to be pure myths.
Until now.
"Potter, get away from there!" Driven by his fear for the boy, he snapped at him a lot sharper than he had meant to. But it truly was frightening to see the boy sitting there, staring straight into the eyes of the Bird of Death as though sharing a silent conversation.
Severus's angry words shattered the contact. Potter jumped up, startled – and went to seek shelter behind the bird!
Severus was speechless. He knew he had never been kind to Potter, but was he really more frightening than a Bird of Death? His chest constricted painfully at the thought.
"Potter", he now tried to reason more calmly with the boy, "please move away from this creature. It is a Bird of Death. If it carries you off, you will die. That is not what you want, is it?"
Potter only looked at him silently. His green eyes were wide open, but he uttered not a single word.
Severus was at his wits' end. What was Potter trying to prove? That he was a brave little boy? Of all the asinine...! Angry, and still very much afraid, Severus decided to rely on the method that had always brought him the best results: Legilimency.
Entering the five-year-old's head was ridiculously easy. The child's mind was entirely unguarded and all too easy to comprehend. Potter was driven by a single, all-encompassing desire: Once, just once, he wanted to celebrate Christmas with people who did not call him "Potter" or "Boy" and accepted him as he was; with people who loved him.
With his parents.
Severus's heart sank as he made the connection between Potter's wish and the Bird of Death.
"Potter, come away from there at once!" he jelled and determinedly strode forwards.
The Bird of Death shrieked and took off with a mighty beating of its wings. Finally, Potter was moving. Severus reached for him -
And Potter hurriedly backed away. The child reached up towards the sky as though praying to a higher power to save him from Severus. Before Severus could recover from the shock, the boy's prayer was answered.
The Bird of Death once more swooped down from the sky. Its sharp talons linked with the boy's pleadingly raised hands and snatched him up.
A minute later, bird and child had both vanished from Severus's sight.
That night, Severus did not put Draco to bed with a hug and kiss. Draco mutely watched his beloved uncle tuck him in with a pinched look on his face before wordlessly leaving the room. He would not know that Severus was asking himself even now why he hadn't put Potter to bed with a kind word, as well, the previous night.
Severus left the nursery, only to come to a halt in the living room at the sight of the Christmas tree and once more sink into self-reproach. Had he really spent the entire morning playing with Draco, while another child lay in bed alone on Christmas Day, asking himself why he did not receive any presents?
Severus understood that Harry Potter was not the spoiled little prince he had always assumed him to be.
The brief unimpeded look into Potter's mind had torn deep cracks into Severus's world view. What he had taken for Potter's clumsy attempts at keeping his pranks and dalliances from Severus in those cursed Occlumency lessons had actually been rather successful efforts to conceal the true extent of the horrors of his childhood.
Severus had had a few fleeting glimpses - that bulldog, the nasty cousin, an uncle flushed with anger -, but not a hint that Potter's entire childhood held nothing but such tragic experiences that were in no way appropriate in child-rearing.
And suddenly Potter was five years old again. He knew nothing of magic and yet had to live in a magic castle. He knew none of the castle's inhabitants and still had to live with one of them. That person hated Potter, or at least did not seem to care about him at all. He had made that clear again and again over the past handful of days.
His relatives had mistreated Potter. Then he was all of a sudden tossed into an entirely new world - only one thing remained unchanged: while other children were loved and spoiled, he sat in a corner by himself and felt deeply that he was nothing but a source of irritation.
Was it any wonder that this child had gone in search of a better world?
Severus broke down on the sofa. What had he done?
Of course, Severus sent a Patronus message to Albus as soon as he had overcome the initial shock. Albus left the Christmas feast early and returned to Hogwarts, where Severus informed him with a stony face of Potter's disappearance.
Albus looked at him wordlessly for long minutes. Then he quietly said: "When a Bird of Death appears, the legend goes, the living are united with the dead. Then, separated lovers, lost sons and parents who passed before their time are reunited in love. When a Bird of Death appears, the boundaries between life and death become transparent to those who are not held in this world or the Beyond by anything that can compare to their love for each other.
"If a Bird of Death has taken Harry, Severus, there is nothing I can do; nor would I want to. For if Harry went with the Bird willingly, it can only mean one thing: His happiness lies beyond this world. Nothing is more important to me than Harry's happiness. And if he can only find that by... by..."
Albus's voice cracked and he swallowed painfully. Severus saw a tear trailing down the aged headmaster's cheek and his own features tightened a little more. The knot situated in his belly seemed to wind around his chest and cut off his air supply.
"If Harry can only find his happiness in death," Albus finally managed to choke out, "then we have no right to interfere with that, Severus. We can do naught but let him go."
Then Albus was silent. He just sat there at his desk, mute, while hot tears were rolling down his cheeks, drenching his beard and vanishing somewhere in the depths of his robes.