lomonaaeren

Chapter Forty-Four.

Title: Wolf’s Choice (45/60)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Main story is gen, a few GoF canon pairings mentioned
Content Notes: AU of GoF, angst, gore, violence, torture, present tense, minor character death
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU of GoF. Harry begins his summer with horrific visions that come true much faster than he was expecting. He’ll have to rely on his circle of friends, both his guardians, and all his allies to cope with the results.
Author’s Notes: This is a long fic that is a sequel to my fic Other People’s Choices. Make sure you read that first before you start this one.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Forty-Five--Exactly

Harry opens his eyes, or "opens" them, to find himself standing in the middle of a dark forest. He shivers. He's got a good idea of what's coming next. With resignation, he turns his head to find himself hovering invisibly over a clearing where Voldemort is packing flesh onto his body.

Voldemort seems to sense him after a moment. He looks up and smiles with a skull-like rictus of teeth. Harry wants to flinch, but his lack of body keeps him from doing it. Voldemort's grin grows a little wider, though, as if he sensed the intention.

"You have cost me a great deal of trouble," Voldemort says, as he layers slick muscle along his left arm and reaches for more with his right hand. "I wondered for a time how I would get you here, since you destroyed the most useful of my servants. But I no longer think that will be a problem. Amazing, is it not, how solutions present themselves?"

Harry decides his best course of action is to say nothing, and to start trying to break free of the dream. He envisions Occlumency rising like a purple mist between them, closing off the dream the way that Severus is trying to teach him to close off memories.

But the mist refuses to form, and Voldemort's grin looms through it like a lantern. "You are in my head, young Potter. I control the world from here. And I think that you are in need of--"

Harry screams as punishing pain races through him. He's never felt anything like this. It's so bad that he can feel it tearing at his mind, and he thinks he might honestly go mad before he can break free or someone can rescue him.

"I am going to punish you," Voldemort purrs, while the agony attacks Harry again. "I only need your blood, after all. Not the mind intact. If you can--"

Then something seems to interfere, throwing itself between Harry and the pain. He knows it's not his Occlumency, and he hopes it's not anyone he knows. He wrenches himself back and free before anyone can stop him.

"What? No!"

Voldemort's shriek might be the sweetest thing Harry's ever heard. It rings like bells, and somehow Harry can turn and follow the bells, crying and clawing and gasping, and his fingers sink into something like firm stone, and then he's gasping in the middle of an actual stone floor, his fingernails bleeding and his whole body shaking.

"Harry?"

Harry recognizes that cautious voice, and turns his head. Theo is standing near him, his hands open and flat. Harry frowns hazily, even through the pain in his head and the lingering echoes of anguish in his body. Why would Theo be doing that? Harry wouldn't hurt him.

Then he realizes that someone else is standing over him, and that a low, continuous growl is rolling through the dormitory room. Harry looks up and meets Chaos's blazing eyes for only moment before she snaps them back to confront the other boys.

Understanding comes slowly enough that Chaos is starting to suck in a breath for fire before Harry realizes what happened. He was sleeping, and then he started thrashing around and screaming. Chaos doesn't know why. She probably thinks his roommates cast some spell.

"No, Chaos, it was Voldemort," Harry whispers as she rears on her haunches. She looks down at him and drops to all fours again. Harry drapes his arm around her throat and hangs on until the heat fades. "It was you who came between us in my dreams, wasn't it?"

Chaos touches his cheek with her muzzle, but growls again when Goyle makes to step forwards. Draco grabs Goyle's forearm and shakes his head, and luckily not even he is stupid enough to try again.

"Then you ought to know it was Voldemort and not any of them," Harry tells her, exasperated.

Chaos tilts her head, and a misty image comes floating into his head. Harry sees multiple small dragons attacking a deer at the same time as a larger dragon attacks it. Chaos apparently thinks that multiple people could be responsible for what happened to him.

Harry sighs. "No, it was Voldemort," he says, not surprised when he reaches up again and discovers that the hair of his fringe is slick with blood. He turns and studies the others, glad to see that Theo has lowered his hands and looks more comfortable. "Nothing to do with them. With you," he adds, because Chaos stills looks outraged and like she might tear forwards.

Chaos finally huffs and sits down. In the silence, Goyle's voice sounds clearly. "How can he lead us if he's so weak that one encounter with the Dark Lord's mind disables him?"

Chaos doesn't growl, maybe because Draco drops Goyle's arm and steps away as if already burned. Blaise shakes his head and gives a voiceless sigh. It's Theo's considering dark gaze that Harry worries about, though.

"Theo," he says, and pitches his voice low enough that Theo turns slowly towards him. "I don't want you to kill him."

Theo waits as though someone else is going to say something, and he wants to give them a fair hearing, too. Then he offers a smile that's on the edge of mocking and a nod that dips into a bow. "As you say. My lord."

"Don't start that right now," Harry says tiredly, and closes his eyes. His head aches so fiercely. He wants to lie down and wait for it all to go away, but he also wants to get up and find a pain-killing potion. Listlessly, he begins the task of dragging himself up from the floor to go in search of one.

Theo is the one who catches his shoulder, but he does urge Harry towards his bed instead of back down on the floor. "Go and get Professor Snape, Blaise," he says. Blaise slips out of the room as though he does this every night.

"What? No." Harry pushes back against Theo's hold. All he can think is that Severus hasn't been sleeping well lately since he's so worried about Harry, and the last thing Harry wants is to wake him up now.

"I'm doing this for us as much as for you, Harry," Theo says genially as he gets Harry settled against his pillows again. Chaos leaps up beside Harry and stretches out along his left side. "Professor Snape would murder us all if we listened to you and left this alone."

"What? Why would he do that?" Harry's eyes are drifting shut, but something seems wrong here. "He wouldn't do that. Don't want you to wake him up. You could all go back to sleep, too..."

Someone hisses, but Harry can't open his eyes to see who it is. Then someone shoves him in the shoulder, and Harry knows from that that it's Theo. He opens his eyes to glare, and Theo nods encouragingly and leans towards him.

"Yes, that's right, Harry," Theo says. "You just keep looking at me. Glare at me, if you like. But you've got to stay awake."

"Why, though?" Harry can hear his voice slurring, and the light hurts. He wants to go back to sleeeep.

"You have a concussion. You can't fall asleep." Theo takes out his wand. "If you start to, I'm going to cast that charm we learned last week that will fill your hand with the sensation of a thousand needles."

Harry gapes at him. "You can't do that. It's mean."

"Yes." Theo is absolutely unabashed, and Harry hates that, because he's being so unfair.

"Some vassal you are," Harry mutters, folding his arms and then jumping when one of them brushes Chaos's back. She's lying very close, her head on his chest. Harry shoves at her, because she's heavy. "Go 'way, Chaos."

She breathes out instead, but what comes out is a wash of warm, sweet air instead of fire. Harry gasps, and his head clears. He winces a second later. "Exactly how childish was I being?"

"Very," Theo says, at the same moment as Draco says, "Not at all." Draco glares at Theo, but Theo is studying Harry.

"Your pupils are still dilated," Theo says a second later. "You still have a concussion. I think she just relieved some of the symptoms. We'll still want Professor Snape to come and give you the right potion."

"Yes, fine," Harry says, although he's thinking more of how much trouble his roommates would get into if they tried to conceal this from Severus. He lies back and tries to settle the pain in his head and the remaining echoes in his body.

His hand rests on Chaos's warm back. He knows that she came into his dreams and saved him, but he has no idea how she did it. They don't really have a mental connection like Harry has learned wizards have to their familiars, and they can't communicate telepathically, but maybe she managed it anyway? Maybe?

Harry hates to admit it, but he honestly has no idea.

*

Severus steps slowly back from Harry's bed. Harry's breathing is already deep in slumber. Severus had a potion on hand that could clear up concussions, luckily, one he brews because the standard remedy takes so long and he can make a tidy amount selling this on the side. The rest was cleaning the blood away from his scar and healing some of the "punishment" Harry said Voldemort inflicted on him.

What Severus found when he cast an unobtrusive diagnostic charm was damage that he would expect from several minutes under the Cruciatus.

Severus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hates to admit it, but he will need help. And the kind of help he needs can't be someone who knows Occlumency, because a flexible, open mind is needed to link with Harry's.

He'll have to take one of Harry's friends into his confidence.

And there's only one true choice, based on their behavior this evening.

He walks down the staircase to the Slytherin common room, having exiled Harry's roommates from the bedroom while he was dealing with the aftermath of the damage. Crabbe and Goyle are already asleep, curled up on couches near the fire. Zabini, Nott, and Draco are awake, although Draco is nodding. They do all sit bolt upright when they see him.

"Harry will recover," Severus says quietly. "I must have your word that none of you will spread the truth I am about to tell you."

"I promise," Draco says earnestly.

"On your wands."

Draco's eyes widen, and his hands shake as he draws his wand. Severus glances at Zabini and Nott. They already have their wands drawn. Zabini looks nearly as breathless as Draco, but Nott's face is calm.

Probably aware that a wand oath only has as much power as you give it, Severus thinks. It is an old custom, but the magic that once truly bound someone who swore on their wand faded when wandmakers changed the way they worked. Now it's the interaction of the wizard's magic with the wand's wood and core that matters, and if it's a weak connection or simply not something the wizard believes in, a wand oath has no power.

But he will trust Nott to hold Harry's secrets close more than the others, and he keeps a close eye on the boy as he directs the wording of their oaths. Draco is trembling slightly as he lays down his hawthorn wand, although it would take a keen eye to see it. He probably has a close connection with his wand, then. Zabini has gone back to stern-faced. Nott simply waits like a still panther, his eyes keen.

That one is already dangerous, Severus thinks, but makes sure to address all of them as he speaks. "Voldemort has learned to reach out and through the scar connection that binds him and Harry. He can send visions, most of you knew that, but now he sends pain as well."

Draco wraps his arms around himself. Zabini is the one who speaks first. "What can we do about it?"

"We need a permanent barrier," Severus says. "Chaos provided that protection tonight, but it took her long enough that the damage could have been fatal." Shadows move in Nott's eyes. "I need someone who can link his mind to Harry's and stay open that way, ready to move in and yank him free from the connection when it starts to be used against Harry."

Draco shifts in his seat. "Would that person get hurt?"

"At least a little," Severus says, and keeps his nod to himself as Draco shudders. That is why it cannot be him. He is too afraid of pain.

"And it's an advantage if this person knows Occlumency?" Zabini asks. "Or not?"

"It is not," Severus says. "Or at least, it needs to be someone who knows Occlumency but has great flexibility in his shields," he adds, after a moment's consideration. That would work as well.

That is why Severus is, unfortunately, not a candidate himself. He knows his own shields, and their firmness is part of the point. He has memories concealed that would incapacitate him if he set them free, or set about building the flexibility into his shields that would be needed.

With a sigh, Severus turns to his sole candidate. "Mr. Nott."

"Yes, sir?" Nott's hand rests still near his wand, but his other one is on his robes, and Severus is sure that it's near the hilt of a knife. He wants to shake his head. He knows that the boy did not learn all his skills from Harry's study group, but Nott is extremely close-mouthed about his father and his childhood in Nott House, and Severus knows better than to pry.

"How well do you know Occlumency?"

"I have other means of shielding my mind, Professor Snape."

Severus narrows his eyes. That is not an answer he expected. "How?"

Nott's eyes move to Zabini and Draco. Zabini nods as if he understands, but Draco looks astonished and hurt. "Theo," he says. "You know I would never betray you to your father."

"I know that," Nott says. "I'm more worried about yours than mine."

Severus hesitates once, then says, "Mr. Nott, will you allow me to read the answer out of your mind, if you resist speaking it aloud? Or does your method of protection allow for that?" It might seem silly, to some, to treat this schoolboy as if he was a formidable opponent, but they haven't seen what this particular schoolboy is capable of.

"Yes, it does, Professor Snape. Just a moment." Nott lays his hand over his stomach and closes his eyes.

When he looks up at Severus again, there's an openness to his eyes that wasn't there a moment before, but it only emphasizes the depth and darkness of them. Severus steps inside Nott's mind and glances once at the answer written in blazing letters on the "wall" in front of him.

Potions.

Severus leaps back into his own mind and continues staring at Nott. Nott tilts his head and rubs his hand over his stomach again. This time, Severus feels the subtle trickle of magic that shifts through Nott's body and enacts the protection on his mind again.

"How?" Severus breathes, but the answer is coming to him even as he thinks about it. There are potions like that, but they are finicky and difficult to brew even for Severus. Nor could he have controlled them once he ingested them, not without much practice. He could do it if he needed to, but by the time he discovered the existence of such potions, he knew Occlumency and had no need of them.

Nott has managed to brew the potions and to control them once they are in his body, which means he has a connection to the separate ingredients of the potions even once they have been digested by his stomach and surrounded by his magic.

"A gift," the boy says, and Severus understands the subtle tilt of his chin. Not just a talent, as most would believe when hearing the word, but a Gift, the sort of magical ability that runs along family lines and was actually once used to determine who belonged to a particular pure-blood family. They are rare enough now that they are no longer so valued or understood.

Besides, with the rise of blood purity, pure-bloods gave up the ancient practice of adopting Muggleborns and half-bloods who demonstrated their "family" Gifts. Because why would one want to prevent inbreeding? Severus thinks, unable not to be snide.

He now knows the Nott Gift, or at least Theo Nott's Gift, which might well be different from any his father possesses. It is an enormous trust, and Severus knows. He inclines his head, holding the nod a moment too long so Nott knows he understands.

"I will ask you that guard Harry's mind, then, Mr. Nott," he says.

Draco huffs and turns away to stare at the far wall of the common room. Zabini is listening, patient, attentive. Nott stands and half-bows.

"I'll be happy too, sir, if you show me how to set up the link," he says.

*

Draco crosses his arms as he stares at the fire. Professor Snape said they could go back up to their bedroom a while ago, and part of Draco is screaming in tiredness, but his anger burns bright enough to keep him from sleep.

Why didn't Professor Snape choose him for Harry's protector? The professor has to know that Draco wouldn't run home and announce it proudly to his father the way he might have a few years ago. Draco has received threatening owls from his father! He won't just do anything impulsive! He's not a Gryffindor.

But no, apparently he isn't trusted enough. Professor Snape didn't even ask him about his Occlumency.

Draco wraps his arms around himself and curls up even tighter. He has half a mind to sleep in the chair tonight.

But in the end, dimming rage and weariness prod him up the stairs where Blaise and Theo already went. Draco glances towards Harry's bed, noting the closed curtains, and then the way that Theo's bed has been moved closer to Harry's.

Resentment leaps up from the embers, and something in Draco darkens.

*

Theo opens his eyes and lies there in the darkness, one hand on his wand, the other on a knife.

The shifting sounds have stopped, and apparently Draco has climbed into bed and is done brooding in the common room. Theo still waits until he hears Draco's usual nighttime breathing start before he closes his eyes again.

Professor Snape elaborated on the dangers as he performed the spell that would link Theo's and Harry's minds. They concerned Voldemort figuring out the possible nature of the link, Harry complaining, and an uncontrolled merging of their minds that could happen if either of them played with the link too much. He didn't mention other students' jealousy, but he should have.

Not that it bothers Theo, not much. He makes peace with the others and plays nice because Harry wants him to, but if Harry ever decided that he wanted those students to leave him alone, Theo would drive them away in a heartbeat.

Harry is the only one he considers a true friend instead of a tolerated associate, and for someone of the line of Nott, that is still so rare that he will do everything he can to protect Harry.

He wraps his own dark thoughts around the blazing starfire of Harry's thoughts and drifts back into dreams, part of him as silently on-guard as any dragon.