Table Of ContentChapter 1: The Mirror of All Souls
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=13093&chapter=1
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this fictional universe. JK
Rowling, some publishers, and some film companies own everything. I'm not
making anything from this except a hobby.
Timeline and Caveats: This story follows Canon Books 1-5 and an
alternate sixth year. HBP never happened. Instead, A Year Like None Other took
place. You're advised to read that first before starting this story, but in case you
need the Cliff Notes: Harry got adopted by Snape, Draco turned to the Light, and
then Snape adopted him as well. The Dursleys all died except for Dudley who
lost a lot of weight and found his heart with the help of a talented therapist. So,
Harry's got a father and brother now, plus a cousin he can stand. Since Year was
started before HBP came out, some other things in this universe differ from
canon. In this universe, Snape is a pureblood and his father's name was Hostilian
(which tells you a lot all by itself). Dumbledore never died, but Pansy Parkinson
did, and Theodore Nott went to Azkaban for murdering her. Draco is younger
than Harry, but only by a few days. I'm sure there's more but that's what comes
to mind. Just remember, nothing that we found out in HBP necessarily matters in
this story. And now, on with the show.
Author's Note: If you'd like to see the wealth of art that was created for A
Year Like None Other, please visit the Art Gallery I have set up to display the
lovely things fans have created and sent me. If I get art for this story it will be
hosted there as well. You can find the Art Gallery at
http://aylnoartwork.havenofdreams.com/.
Thanks as ever to Mercredi for the support and beta!
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A Summer Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter One:
The Mirror of All Souls
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This certainly wasn't like any summer Draco had ever had. He was used to
spending his holidays in Wiltshire, surrounded by luxury, lazing about in a
bedroom easily the size of Severus' entire quarters. To still be sharing a room,
even during the holidays, was a bit much. The fact that they were still in the
castle hardly mattered; he'd be sharing with Harry even after they went to
Devon!
Then again, it was a bit nice to have a brother to do things with. Holidays
for Draco had most often been lonely times, with only tutors and elves around,
except during each night's rather formal dinner. True, he'd had a private
Quidditch pitch all to himself, but one-on-none Quidditch just wasn't that much
fun. Now he could test his skills against Harry, who really was quite a good
Seeker.
Not better than Draco, of course.
But good, yes. Very good. Even with a Firebolt XL under him, Draco had
to struggle to get to the Snitch first. And oh, how that was worth it! The look on
Harry's face whenever Draco bested him!
Sometimes it was Harry who won their impromptu matches. But that was
all right. Those losses made Draco try all the harder the next time they played.
He could feel his skills being stretched and sharpened every time he and Harry
took to the pitch.
His final Quidditch season at Hogwarts was really going to be something . .
. but only if Harry decided to play for Gryffindor once more. The Weasley girl
wouldn't present nearly as much of a challenge.
And Draco was looking forward to the challenge of taking Harry on again,
in front of the whole school, and this time, winning.
Not that Quidditch completely filled their days. Harry spent every morning
helping Severus and Lucinda in the lab. He chopped and minced and diced and
purÈed whatever Severus said, and because Draco had nothing else to do, he'd
got in the habit of helping out as well. Actually, he'd pretty much had to. The
whole idea was to assist Severus and Lucinda to improve the Wolfsbane potion.
Harry was involved out of concern for his werewolf friend. Severus didn't even
really need the assistance, but he knew how much Harry wanted to help.
Draco's motive was just as laudable. Oh, not that he cared about Lupin
overly much. He did care, however, about his mother. And at the moment,
Lupin's continued safety in his masquerade was important for Narcissa. If the
Dark Lord should ever find out about Lupin's double life, Narcissa would come
in for her share of blame. And torture, no doubt. No matter that she hadn't known
a thing.
So, it was best to keep Lupin's true nature as submerged as they could. It
was best that everyone, Narcissa included, believe him to be Lucius. Draco tried
hard not to think too much about everything that might mean, but sometimes at
night, he couldn't stop himself from running scenarios in his mind. His mother
expected a kiss now and again, he knew. He'd seen her lift her hand expectantly
to his father, and more rarely, her lips.
Did Lupin follow through on her suggestion?
Draco would shudder in his bed when he thought about it. Lupin would
have to, right? It was part of the masquerade. But awful, so awful. Draco didn't
want his mother being touched, not even casually, by a half-human creature like
a werewolf.
He knew better than to say such things out loud, though. Harry was all right
most of the time, but nothing raised his hackles faster than Draco's so-called
racism.
Racism, honestly! It wasn't. It wasn't anything of the sort. Draco was just
sensible, that was all. Who would want their mother hanging about with a rabid
creature who carried a dreadful communicative disease? Not him, that was for
certain. But the Wolfsbane potion helped keep the worst traits of the werewolf at
bay, so Draco chopped and minced and diced right alongside Harry, all the while
keeping his dire thoughts to himself.
Well, almost all the while. He did have limits.
Severus seemed to understand that. Harry had clearly intended to work all
day, every day, on the Wolfsbane experiments, and Draco would have done
likewise, just to keep up with how things were going, but Severus had put an end
to that idea. He'd insisted that he and Lucinda needed to work on their own in the
afternoons.
On their own. Now there was a joke. The headmaster kept dropping by on
the most daft, transparent excuses Draco had ever heard. The man was sweet on
Lucinda; it was clear as day. Draco didn't say anything about it, though, not even
in jest. It was one thing to tease Severus a bit about Marsha. As annoyed as
Severus might get, he'd never really hold it against Draco.
Draco wasn't so sure about the headmaster. Best to tread carefully there.
Draco felt like he was almost at Hogwarts on sufferance, after the way he'd been
cast out of classes and then expelled. He'd been reinstated, yes, and most of the
time he felt welcome. All those points to Slytherin had helped. But still, he
wasn't really comfortable enough to take liberties.
Not like Harry did. He talked to the headmaster like the two of them were
old friends, sometimes. And Draco just couldn't see himself ever doing that.
Draco would never admit it to anyone--though Severus probably knew--but
Dumbledore frightened him a little.
So, mornings for the Wolfsbane and afternoons for Quidditch. Evenings
though, most often found Draco and Harry continuing their explorations of the
castle. It had more mazelike corridors and dusty nooks and crannies than Draco
would have guessed, but of course the Marauder's Map was very helpful in
helping them know where they'd explored and where they hadn't.
If Harry would look at it more often, that was.
"We've been in that room before," said Draco, sighing a bit. "Before term
ended, even. Don't you remember? We talked about your problem. You aren't
still . . . er, sticking yourself, are you? I mean, Severus really did defend you in
spectacular fashion. That must have helped you feel better, eh?"
Harry leaned his palm on the storeroom door. "Aran was never the real
problem, though. Well, not the cause of that problem, anyhow. Marsha's got me
to realise that. Whatever anyone may have said or done to me, the idea to, uh . . .
do that to myself, came from me."
Yeah, Marsha was big on the idea that problems came from the inside.
Solutions, too. She never let Draco get away with blaming other people for the
things he'd done. It was actually pretty frustrating. "You didn't answer my
question."
Harry gave Draco what seemed like a wry look. "When would I be sticking
myself? Between you and Dad, I seem never to be alone."
Oh. Harry had caught on to Draco's grand plan, then. Not that it was all that
grand. Draco lifted his chin a little. "As far as I know, you're alone in the loo."
He quirked a grin. "Or maybe you're not. Something you're not telling me?"
"Oh, don't be a prat." Harry rolled his eyes.
Draco refused to let himself get distracted. "You still didn't answer my
question. Have you transfigured anything into a needle since term ended?"
Harry's features hardened, which was answer enough for Draco. Harry was
still struggling with his problem. Which was probably only to be expected . . .
Marsha had lectured Draco about not expecting too much, too soon. But Draco
still felt disturbed. "I hope you went to Severus about it," he said quietly. "As
soon as you . . . er, came to your senses."
"It was just the once," muttered Harry. "I just . . . look, it doesn't . . . oh,
hell. Yes, I did go and talk to Dad about it, all right? He wasn't too happy."
Neither was Draco, but he didn't say so. Marsha had told him that Harry
didn't need two fathers. What he needed from Draco, she'd said, was acceptance.
Which made a lot of sense, considering how Harry had been treated by his
Muggle family. "That's rough."
Harry pursed his lips. "I bet Dad wished he could take away my fingers the
way he took away your wand that time."
Draco hadn't thought of that. Denying Harry his magic wasn't really an
option, in the circumstances. Severus probably found that pretty frustrating.
Just one more way that Harry stands out, thought Draco. He'd like to be
able to do wandless magic. But nobody their age could do such a thing. Nobody
except Harry Potter, and he only a half-blood.
Draco sighed.
"Look, I'll try harder not to do it again," said Harry, meaning the needles,
not wandless magic. Draco just nodded. "Anyway, enough of that. When we
were in here before, I noticed something and wondered about it. Um . . . how's
your Latin?"
Draco grinned. Sometimes, he just couldn't pass up a chance to needle
Harry. Though perhaps that wasn't the best way to put it. "It's proper Latin, not
that church bastardization Muggles started using."
Sure enough, Harry rose to the bait. "Look, Muggle's not an synonym for
awful, you know. I thought you and Marsha were working on tolerance--"
"We are," drawled Draco. "Doesn't mean I lack all sense of standards."
Harry made a rude gesture and shoved the door open. "Come in here with
me, then. There's something I've been meaning to take a closer look at."
Draco couldn't imagine what. The storeroom had just been filled with old
broken desks and the like. He couldn't imagine why Hogwarts would keep such
things around. Evanesco or Reparo would take care of the lot. But then again,
Filch was a squib. That likely explained the matter.
Though it was still a good question why on earth Hogwarts would employ a
squib. Not much use, was he?
Harry pushed past the furniture and pointed at the back corner. "Just like the
Mirror of Erised. Well, maybe. I noticed before that it was decorated, but I didn't
have time to ask you about it. Can you read what that inscription says?"
Draco gave his brother a superior look. "Can Severus brew?"
Drawing his wand, Draco cast a thorough Pulire to get rid of the dust
coating the large mirror's frame, then read the inscription through, thinking about
it. "Hmm. It's a bit poetic. Not sure I can recreate the cadence of it, really. Let
alone the rhyme scheme."
"I don't care--"
"But I do," said Draco. "What did I just tell you about standards? So, let's
see . . ." He paused for a long moment, rubbing his hands together as he worked
out a translation. Dratted Latin and its flexible word order. Sometimes you could
hardly tell what the original meant, though he was hardly going to admit that to
Harry. "Ah. How about this? Herein converse with those of old, yet only those
whose hearts you hold. Behold the wonder, yet beware. Beyond is timeless, there
not here."
Harry drew close to the mirror and looked about to touch the surface, just as
if he'd never heard of residual magic, let alone treating a new artefact with a bit
of respect.
Draco put a hand on his arm and shook his head. "Too unpredictable."
"Yeah . . . " Harry glanced at him. "The poem. What does it mean?"
Draco shrugged. "I translated. Interpretation is a different matter
completely. Offhand, I'd say it's a mirror designed to show people who have
passed on."
Harry blinked. "Oh. Really? Then why is it only showing us?"
"Because it's broken, like the rest of the dross in here?"
"Maybe . . ." Harry suddenly pointed. "Wait, you move over there." He
waited until Draco had backed away a few feet. "Huh. Just me, now. Still
nothing . . . Er . . . why don't you try?"
"Why don't I not?" said Draco stiffly. "Only those whose hearts you hold,
Harry? Like I'd want to see . . ."
"Oh. Sorry." Harry started chewing on his lip. Disgusting habit. Draco
decided he'd better look up some sort of hex that would put an end to it.
Something to make Harry's lips taste like bile, maybe. He could always lift it
again when Harry got a girlfriend.
"You're thinking of Lucius?" asked Harry in a tentative voice.
"Pansy."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess you wouldn't want to talk to her again."
"Not unless I get to reach into the mirror and strangle her." Draco shrugged,
then. "Hmm, probably no danger I'll see her, then. I mean, if you only see people
you love. All right, I'll try it."
He stepped in front of the mirror and stared into it as Harry moved off to
the side.
Then, because it was really more than he could resist, he suddenly gasped
and lifted a hand to his heart. "Oh, my. Isn't that quite the sight . . ."
"What, what?"
"The best looking young man Hogwarts has seen in lo these many days,"
said Draco, imitating the headmaster's turn of speech. "Record-breaking
Slytherin Seeker! Winner of not fifty, not a hundred, but a hundred and fifty
points to Slytherin. A change of decoration is in order--"
"Oh, shut it," said Harry, glowering. Then he seemed to backtrack a bit.
"Look, I'm as happy about that as you are, but if this mirror does really show the
. . . er, dearly departed, then I want to get it working." He cleared his throat, his
eyes a glinting green even in the dimly lit room as he turned to stare at Draco. "I
want to talk to them, you see? Really talk, even if it's only the once and I can
never see them again."
"Them?"
Harry turned his face away, his throat convulsing as he answered. "Yeah,
them. My parents."
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Coming Soon in A Summer Like None Other: "Moving On"
Comments very welcome,
Aspen in the Sunlight and Mercredi
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Author's Notes:
If you'd like to be notified when this story is updated, then you are cordially
invited to join the Yahoo group for this story. Simply send an email to
Chapter 2: Moving On
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=13093&chapter=2
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A Summer Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
