The Darkening of Your Soul

Chapter 12

“Why on earth are you so eager to spare Severus’ life?” Voldemort asked with a curious tilt of his head. “As I understand it since you’ve mentioned it numerous times, Severus never treated you well in your first life.”

“Understatement,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Snape’s always been a bastard, sure, but he’s as of yet also the only adult who’s ever tried to do something about my abusive home life.” To be fair, Harry wasn’t even sure why he wanted to spare Snape, aside from his unexpected abilities as a Head of House. It just didn’t sit well with him that Voldemort wanted him dead.

Voldemort didn’t say anything for quite a while, and Harry waited patiently, realizing this wasn’t something to rush Voldemort into. Whatever decision Voldemort made, he needed to make it in his own time.

“I would require additional vows,” Voldemort finally said. “Severus has betrayed me once. I wouldn’t want to give him the opportunity to do it again.”

“But you know now how and why he betrayed you,” Harry pointed out, hopeful Voldemort would give Snape a chance. “It will be easy to prevent it this time. Not to mention, as of yet he hasn’t actually betrayed you. Not really. And as Dumbledore’s spy he’s dead useful.”

“I will consider it,” Voldemort finally said, and Harry could tell from his tone of voice that was as much as he was going to get right now. “Besides, I don’t want to make any promises without talking to Severus and seeing how far he’ll be willing to go when it comes to taking additional vows.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said, but he was relieved nonetheless. Voldemort really had changed, really was willing to compromise, and Harry was once again glad he’d insisted the man get his whole soul back before they were given their second life. The difference was astonishing. “Thanks for at least thinking it over.”

Voldemort’s smile was small and slightly surprised. “You’re welcome, my dear. We will speak soon.” And with that he clicked the mirror shut. Harry shook his head and went in search of his friends.

Sunday was spent much the same as Saturday, but thankfully without any ambushes from his Head of House. Harry and his friends spent the day exploring, plying treats off the very eager house-elves, and walking around the castle, admiring the many amazing views of the Scottish landscape. It surprised Harry that it was so enjoyable to spend time with his current friends, seeing as they were all eleven and he was, mentally at least, eighteen. But perhaps spending time with children, as smart and mature as some of them were they were still kids, was exactly what Harry needed to relax. Their worst fears took on the form of teachers or homework. None bore psychological scars because they’d been through a war. Surrounding himself with them felt as if he was able to let go of certain aspects of himself. Aspects brought on by abuse and war and betrayal and death.

Had Harry ever been able to just be a kid? Harry wasn’t sure when he thought about it. One would think that during his first year in his previous life he’d been a kid, but it wasn’t that simple. During his first life Harry was unprepared and overwhelmed and stressed out about having to return to the Dursleys each summer. He’d been unwittingly groomed to take on more and more dangerous adversaries with no regard for his own life. A possessed teacher, a basilisk, a hundred dementors, a dragon and the Dark Lord himself.

No, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized he really never had been just a kid. Not even before Hogwarts, when all he’d been was the Dursleys’ unwanted burden, starved, worked like a house-elf and kept in a closet.