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Chapter Text

The tall, imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore stood at the head of the long table during their monthly staff meeting. His blue eyes twinkled with a hint of concern as he spoke, interrupting Minerva's presentation.

"Severus," Dumbledore began, his voice carrying easily over the chatter of the other professors. "The wards in the dungeons near your rooms have picked up an energy spike. It is most likely just a ghost beginning to form, but it would be best to check on it just in case."

Minerva let out an exasperated huff, clearly annoyed at being interrupted by Dumbledore for such a seemingly trivial matter.

"It appears that, as the only person living down in the dungeons, it is now my responsibility to go babysit a new ghost," Severus muttered with a sneer, his thin lips twisting into a scowl as he spoke. The thought of having to deal with yet another spectral presence was not something he relished.

“If you would, Severus,” Albus said, his firm tone leaving no room for argument.

With a resigned sigh, Severus stood up and smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on his robes before making his way out of the staff room. It was a welcome excuse to leave the stuffy staff room and escape the voices of other heads of house, who would undoubtedly continue to criticize his strict behavior towards students even without him there.

As he walked through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, Severus couldn't help but wonder why he had been chosen to check on this newly forming ghost instead of the Bloody Baron or the Grey Lady who typically handled such matters. The castle was eerily quiet as he made his way into the deepest parts of the castle, shadows dancing along the walls and giving him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

As Severus neared the dungeons, a shiver ran down his spine, and he felt a powerful, haunting energy filling the halls. It was like a rolling, chilling mist, surrounding him as he walked. It was unmistakable - the presence of a ghost beginning to form. Whoever this ghost may have been in their lifetime, they were certainly a formidable mage to still wield such power even in death.

Severus wracked his brain, trying to think of any recent deaths that could be connected to this presence. But the Daily Prophet had become mundane since the fall of the Dark Lord six years ago, and deaths were now few and far between. The Potters had been the last widely reported casualties, excluding those Death Eaters who had been sentenced to the dementors. But now, as he descended into the darkness of the dungeons, Severus couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

As Severus turned the corner to the hallway leading to his rooms, he was met with a thick fog of blue-tinted mist. Swirling and spiraling in a mesmerizing dance, the mist seemed to be forming into one being before his very eyes. The surrounding mist was being pulled into the central mass, creating an intense pressure that threatened to knock Severus off his feet.

Severus was in awe of the immense power emanating from this ghostly figure. He couldn't help but question how a mere ghost could possess such strength. If it was another troublesome poltergeist like Peeves, he feared for the safety of Hogwarts. The castle's chances of surviving until summer break seemed slim if it had to deal with another destructive entity. According to the Bloody Baron, it took nearly 100 years to tame Peeves and limit his harmful and sometimes deadly antics to mere pranks and harmless tricks.

The pressure and building magical energy suddenly vanished without warning, causing Severus to stumble unsteadily in its absence. The swirling cyclone of mist collapsed in on itself with a loud crack, unleashing a shock wave of cold, icy power that sent shivers through Severus' entire being. In the center of the hall stood no longer an indistinct fog, but the solid form of a small child.

As Severus laid eyes on the ghostly figure, he was overcome with a sense of deep sadness for such a young soul to have been taken from the world too soon and then trapped in this half-life as a ghost. The child's translucent form seemed to flicker and waver as if struggling to maintain its presence in the mortal realm. It was a haunting and melancholic sight that left Severus feeling both mournful and unsettled. It was a tragedy beyond words.

The small child appeared to be a boy, no more than four or five years old. His tattered clothes hung loosely on his frail frame, the fabric worn and threadbare in some places. Dirt and grime covered his face and hands, and his hair was matted and unkempt. As the boy slowly regained his senses and sentience filled those eyes, Severus could also see the color began to leech back into his translucent body, giving him a more human appearance.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Severus recognized who the boy was.

Those once bright green eyes, now dulled by the grip of death, were still recognizable as belonging to Harry Potter - "the boy who lived". Except, it seemed that he was no longer alive. According to Dumbledore, the boy should be seven years old and living happily with his loving family in the muggle world. But instead, here he stood in this dark hallway, a mere ghost of himself. Severus had no doubts that this was indeed Harry Potter, even without seeing the infamous lightning-shaped scar that marked him as the chosen one on the night his family was brutally murdered by the Dark Lord.

Severus then knelt down in front of the small child and he noticed dark hand-like impressions covering the boy's throat - likely what had killed the boy. Strangulation was a slow and painful demise, not a way Severus ever wanted to go. A wave of sorrow washed over Severus for this innocent child who had suffered such an agonizing fate. But alongside the sadness, an anger rose within him at the realization that nobody had known of Harry Potter's plight and they were too late to save him now.

The weight of failure pressed heavily on Severus as he stood before yet another fallen Potter. It was even worse than Lily’s death, the woman he had loved and lost so long ago. Not only had he failed in his promise to protect her son, but he hadn't even considered the need to keep Harry safe until he arrived at Hogwarts. The realization was like a stab to the heart.

But even in death, Severus knew he had to honor his duty and do everything in his power to help Harry. As Severus gazed upon the ghostly body of the boy who had made it to Hogwarts four years earlier than expected, Severus knew he had to do everything in his power to help him even if the boy wasn’t amongst the living anymore.

His vow to Lily and the Headmaster demanded it.

He must find out who killed Harry, retrieve his body for a proper burial next to his parents in Godric's Hollow, and most importantly, help Harry find peace and reunite with his family beyond the veil. It was a daunting task, but Severus couldn't let himself rest until it was done. He had failed to protect Harry from harm in the first place, and standing face-to-face with this failure only fueled his determination to make things right. But first, he needed to alert the others and devise a plan. Time was not on their side.

With a flick of his wand, Severus summoned his doe Patronus, its ethereal form gliding gracefully through the air. The magical creature's form seemed to dance and swirl as it hovered before him, patiently waiting for his message.

"Tell Dumbledore," Severus commanded, his voice grave and urgent, "that we have a new ghost haunting the castle, and someone needs to be sent to Harry Potter's relatives to assess if anyone still lives there." His words hung heavily in the air. "Harry Potter is dead." The weight of this revelation felt heavy on Severus' heart as he watched his Patronus disappear through one of the castle’s stone walls, quickly making its way up to the Headmaster.

The stone floors beneath Severus' knees, where he remained kneeling on the ground, seemed to reverberate with a sorrowful melody. It was almost as if Hogwarts itself shared in the grief of a young life taken too early from this world.

Chapter Text

To say that the staff room was thrown into a frenzy of chaos as Severus' Patronus glided in, its silver form shimmering in the dim light, was like saying Voldemort only had a hobby for the Dark Arts. Albus Dumbledore's heart raced with fear and disbelief as he tried to process the words. He could barely comprehend Severus's message - Harry Potter, the boy who lived and the symbol of hope for the wizarding world, was dead. The sudden realization hit him like a physical blow.

Minerva's thick Scottish brogue cut through his thoughts as she berated him for ever thinking Harry would be safe with the Dursleys. But Albus could not focus on her words, his mind reeling with the news of Harry's demise.

With a trembling hand, Albus raised it to silence Minerva and address the rest of the staff. "We must not jump to conclusions. There may be more to this situation than we know. I suggest that we alert the Order immediately and send Kingsley and Moody to investigate the Dursleys' home. I will go down to Severus and assist with Harry, who is likely disoriented and confused. The rest of the staff should keep a watchful eye on the students and divert anyone attempting to reach the dungeons until we have more information. This meeting is adjourned. "

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on everyone's hearts as they dispersed, their thoughts consumed with worry for young Harry and what this devastating turn of events could mean for their world. Minerva was still cursing under her breath as she made her way to alert the order for the first time since Voldemort’s defeat. 

Albus quickly made his way down to Severus, his mind already spinning with thoughts of how Neville must be the one destined to defeat Voldemort. He couldn't believe he had been wrong about Harry all this time, but perhaps Harry's death was a clear sign that they needed to shift their focus to the other possible young prophecy child. After all, this situation could have been much worse if Harry had died after arriving at Hogwarts.

Albus found Severus in no time, following the lingering energy left behind by the formation of a new ghost. Severus was sitting on the cold, hard stone floor, an unusual sight for someone who always carried himself with such dignity. But what was even more surprising was the gentle and soothing tone in which Severus was speaking to the small, ghostly child floating in the middle of the hallway. Albus didn't want to believe it, but he knew deep down that it was indeed Harry Potter - even in death, his wild and untamable Potter hair gave him away.

"Severus, I-" Albus began before being abruptly silenced by a wandless and wordless silencing charm from Severus.

The small child jumped in fear at Dumbledore’s sudden appearance in the hallway with them, but Severus quickly stepped in, "Hush now, child. Everything will be alright," Severus whispered soothingly to the small, ghostly figure. "That's just the nosy headmaster who should know better than to interrupt us. He won't harm you, I swear on my life. Okay?"

The child's fearful eyes turned to Severus, seeking comfort and safety. But then Harry nodded nervously, inching closer to Severus for protection. Albus couldn't help feeling both offended and amazed by Severus' unwavering protectiveness towards the ghost child.

"Now, dear child, I am going to summon some friends here who can help you with your new form and new life as a ghost. I know it may be scary, but I need you to trust me," Severus said as he slowly pulled out his wand. The boy's wary eyes followed his every move, but at least he did not flinch away this time.

Severus summoned his Patronus once again, and Harry's eyes widened in awe at the sight of the graceful doe. The boy’s fingers twitched in a way that Severus recognized causing a small smile to appear on Severus' lips.

"You can pet her if you'd like, Harry. You won't get in trouble," he reassured gently.

Harry's eyes flickered with uncertainty as he hesitantly extended a hand out to pet the ethereal doe, but the soothing presence of the doe patronus and its gentle nuzzles slowly eased the fear on the boy’s face, causing a small cautious smile to appear. The glowing creature seemed to hum softly under his touch, its warm light radiating through his fingers in an otherworldly glow.

Albus couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea of ghosts being able to feel a Patronus, wondering if ghosts could also feel the effects of a Patronus like the living did. He made a mental note to experiment with that thought later.

When Harry finally stopped petting the doe, Severus sent her off on a mission, her form gliding gracefully through the air as she carried his message to the Grey Lady and Bloody Baron to come to their location and aid him with their newly formed ghost.

Albus felt strangely out of place as he watched Severus take on the role of protector and possibly caretaker for the boy who once lived. He couldn't help but feel useless in this moment, like an outsider intruding upon a private interaction between Severus and Harry. But he knew he couldn't leave them alone, not yet. There were questions that needed to be answered, particularly about how Harry had died.

The prominent bruises that marred Harry’s ghostly skin were all too apparent. It was clear that his death was not just an unfortunate accident as Albus had hoped. Someone had seriously harmed the boy before his untimely passing.

It wasn’t long before the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron joined them in the normally abandoned dungeon hallway. They materialized on opposite sides of the hall, an unspoken distance between them that even death could not bridge. The tension between them was palpable even in their ghostly forms, with Helena's aura of sorrow contrasting sharply with the Baron's air of guilt. Helena had never forgiven the Baron for killing her after all. But as the oldest ghosts in the castle, they took their duty towards newly presented ghosts very seriously. It was the only time when anyone could say that they even remotely got along.

Helena's eyes welled up with tears at the sight of such a young boy joining their ranks, but she and the Baron maintained their composure. Hogwarts, being the center of three intersecting ley lines and steeped in centuries of magical history, often attracted lost souls seeking refuge within its walls. With guidance and understanding, most ghosts would eventually move on to the afterlife or were inevitably pulled back to their place of death if it held enough magical power to sustain their presence. But it had been many years since a ghost appeared at Hogwarts who hadn't died there and then chose to instead to linger for eternity within its walls.

Helena felt a strange pull towards this young boy, sensing in her gut that he would become a permanent resident within these hallowed halls for generations to come. Though she lacked her mother Rowena's gift of divination, her intuition had never been wrong before. As she gazed upon the child, surrounded by the ancient magic of Hogwarts, she knew he would find his eternal home here, just like so many others before him, just as she had.

"Harry," Severus said, keeping crouched down on the young boy's level. "I would like you to meet Helena Ravenclaw and Baron Waldo Bayler. They are two of the best ghosts that I know of, and they will be teaching you and looking out for your safety while you are here."

Harry's eyes darted between the two adults, taking in their sharp features and imposing presence. Harry's expression turned skeptical, his green eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was such a typical Slytherin response that it almost made Severus smirk.

"I can assure you that they are trustworthy and will make sure you are safe. But I promise, if they do anything wrong or make you feel uncomfortable, you can always come straight to me and I will take care of it. But for now, I must entrust you to their capable hands, okay?" Severus reassured him.

It took some coaxing from Helena before Harry finally followed silently after her and the Baron. The young boy kept glancing over his shoulder at Severus until he was out of sight, his small face had been filled with uncertainty and longing for someone he could trust.

Severus slumped down with exhaustion, his body feeling like lead as he struggled to even lift himself off the cold, hard floor. The dim light of the hallway cast shadows across his haggard face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes and the lines etched with worry. Albus stood stoically in the dusty hallway, his piercing blue eyes studying Severus carefully as he removed the silencing charm on himself.

“Clearly, the boy was murdered.” Severus declared hoarsely, using what little strength he had left to pull himself up onto shaky legs.

“Now, my boy, we can’t know that for sure…” Albus began to say, but Severus cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“Don't be naive, Albus! You saw the bruises on his neck- he was strangled to death. The boy you were supposed to protect suffered a slow and agonizing end. Little wonder he returned as a ghost! And from his behavior, I strongly suspect abuse as well. We must look into those closest to him- family, friends, even his friends’ families... anyone who may have had frequent contact with him and could have been responsible for such cruelty. And we must find his body. The first step to helping him find peace is giving him a proper burial beside his parents.” Severus paced back and forth in front of Albus, his mind racing with thoughts and plans.

"Minerva is contacting the order as we speak. We will send trusted Aurors to investigate the Dursley household for what has occurred there." His gaze flicked towards Severus, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Although, I highly doubt that Petunia would have allowed anyone near them long enough to harm the boy."

Severus scoffed at Albus' words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yes, because Petunia has always been such a paragon of love and compassion. I'm sure she only blocked Lily from attending their parents' funeral out of a deep affection for her sister."

A heavy sigh escaped Albus' lips, knowing that there was no use in trying to convince Severus otherwise. They would have to wait for word back from Kingsley and Moody before taking any action. "Come now, Severus. We must prepare ourselves for when the others report back. We can make decisions then."

"Fine," Severus grumbled in contempt, following the Headmaster back up to his office. The wait for official confirmation on Harry Potter's death would be agonizingly long. And no matter the outcome, Severus knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. He could already hear Lily's voice echoing in his mind, berating him for failing to protect her son.

The air in the headmaster's office was thick with tension as Minerva and Severus sat, both feeling as if they were about to float away from the amount of tea they had consumed while waiting for news. The cups clinked softly against their saucers, a symphony of nerves filling the room. Albus sat at his desk, his fingers interlaced in front of him, lost in thought. The three of them had exhausted all small talk hours ago, leaving only an anxious silence hanging over them. It felt as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, each minute stretching on painfully until Severus thought he might scream just to break the tension.

Just when it seemed like Severus couldn't take it any longer and was actually on the verge of screaming, the floo activated and Kingsley stepped out into the office, his usually confident demeanor replaced by a grave expression. Even during the height of the war, Severus couldn't recall ever seeing Kingsley look so drained and pale.

Kingsley slumped heavily into one of the open chairs in front of Albus' desk, next to Minerva whose usually composed expression was now etched with concern. The air in the room was thick with tension and uncertainty as no one knew how to approach the situation or address the bleak expression on the seasoned Auror's face.

Finally, Kingsley spoke up, his tone grim and filled with sorrow. "Vernon Dursley has been taken into custody by the Aurors," Kingsley began gravely, causing Dumbledore to visibly deflate in his seat, while Minerva's hand flew to her mouth in shock. "And Dudley Dursley is currently under the care of muggle child protective services while we question Petunia Dursley about her role in the abuse and neglect of her nephew, Harry Potter. Vernon has already confessed to killing Harry, but we will need to further investigate the extent of the abuse towards him." Kingsley's voice was slow and deliberate as if he was still processing the horrors that had taken place in that muggle home.

Severus mustered up the courage to ask a question that he dreaded the answer to, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "What of Harry Potter's body? Do you have it so we can lay him to rest next to his parents?"

Kingsley's expression darkened, the usually unflappable Auror seemed to pale and look rather queasy. He took a deep breath before answering, his words heavy with grief. "The condition of Harry Potter's body is... grim. When we arrived at the Dursley home, they were in the midst of... disposing of the boy's remains." The words felt like a physical blow to Severus, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"We will not be able to give Harry a proper burial, nor will we be able to provide any part of the boy for even the darkest of rituals to help release his spirit from this world." Kingsley’s voice cracked slightly, betraying his emotions. "Harry was killed three days ago on March 16th, during Miss Marge Dursley's birthday celebration."

Severus felt bile rise in his throat as he listened to the details, but Kingsley just looked weary as he continued. "We currently have a warrant out for her arrest for her role in Harry's murder." There was a brief moment of silence as Kingsley composed himself before speaking again. "According to our sources, Harry had interrupted the dinner party being held for Marge Dursley when he screamed after being pushed down the stairs by Dudley Dursley. In a fit of rage, Vernon Dursley then proceeded to strangle the small boy, only realizing he had killed him when he dropped the lifeless body on the floor."

The words hung heavily in the air, and Severus couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for Kingsley to relay such gruesome information.

Kingsley took another deep breath, steeling himself for what came next. “The situation gets even more horrific than any of you are imagining though. Petunia and Vernon, desperate to avoid being caught for their heinous crime, had placed Harry's lifeless body in a sealed container of acid inside the shed at the back of their garden. All traces of Harry's existence within their home were then quickly eradicated; his few meager possessions burned and the house scrubbed clean. Today, they had planned to dispose of the evidence at a waste site, Harry’s body included, but our arrival thwarted their plans. The acid had done its job efficiently though, leaving nothing behind except for a haunting reminder of the tragedy that had occurred and a few bone fragments that dissolved within moments of being pulled out of the barrel of acid.” As Kingsley finished speaking, a heavy silence fell upon them, their hearts heavy with sorrow and outrage.

The atmosphere in the room was suffocating, heavy with a sense of overwhelming horror. Minerva's face was streaked with silent tears, her aged cheeks trembling with emotion. Albus sat in stunned silence, his usually rosy complexion now pale and drawn. Even Severus, who was no stranger to darkness and pain as a past Death Eater, felt nauseous at the thought of what had happened to poor Harry Potter. How could they have let this happen? It was a tragedy of epic proportions, one that they had all failed to prevent.

As he looked around at his colleagues, Severus couldn't help but feel the weight of their collective guilt. They had all failed to protect an innocent child, and now he was stuck forever seven years old, robbed of the chance to grow up, fall in love, or be reunited with his loving parents in the afterlife. A lump formed in Severus' throat as he thought about the life that Harry would never get to experience, all because they had not been vigilant enough.

Tears spilled from Severus' eyes as he covered his face with his hands, unable to bear the weight of his emotions any longer. It had been years since he had cried - not since the death of Lily Potter - but now he wept for the little boy they had all failed so miserably. And as he mourned for Harry, he couldn't help but wonder about the world that could have been if he had lived.

But they would never know now. The opportunity for a different future was lost forever.

Chapter Text

Severus awoke the next morning with a pounding hangover, his head throbbing like a drum. The events of the previous day flooded back to him, and he could feel anger bubbling up inside him at the injustice of it all. After hearing the heartbreaking news of what had happened to Harry inside the Dursley household, Minerva, Severus, and Kingsley drowned their sorrows in an excessive amount of alcohol while Albus was off tending to the Order's affairs.

As he stumbled to the bathroom, Severus desperately searched for one of his infamous hangover cures to alleviate the throbbing pain in his head. He knew he needed it if he wanted to avoid snapping at any of the students who dared to speak to him once he finally left the solace of his rooms. Fortunately, it was Sunday and he could take some time to gather his thoughts and plan how he could help the boy who suddenly was no longer among the living.

Unfortunately, the day was not going to give Severus a break.

As he pulled on his robes and straightened his hair, Severus couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him. He knew breakfast in the great hall would be chaotic as usual even if breakfast hours were almost over, and the thought of facing all the rowdy students before venturing to Hogsmeade later made his stomach turn.

Stepping out of his bedroom and into the living room, Severus immediately noticed he wasn't alone. Sitting in front of the crackling fire, illuminated by its flickering light, was Lily's son. A mix of surprise and shock colored Severus' features briefly before he regained his composure.

"Good Morning, little one," he greeted in a calm and welcoming tone, trying not to scare the poor abused child. "Where are the Grey Lady and the Baron?"

Harry seemed to pause for a moment, his stillness unsettlingly in a way that only the truly dead could do, before simply shrugging his shoulders. The action caused Severus' eye to twitch in annoyance, but he quickly suppressed his urge to correct the child's lack of manners.

“Did you run off little one? They will be quite worried about you disappearing I would think.” Severus' gentle voice held a tinge of disapproval as he addressed Harry.

Harry's silence only added to Severus' concern. Was it selective mutism, a result of the trauma and abuse he had endured? Or perhaps it was something physical that was preventing him from speaking. Though typically wounds sustained during death did not affect those who became ghosts, perhaps Harry was an exception. It wouldn't be surprising considering his troubled past.

"Harry, can you speak?" Severus asked directly, determined to get some answers. Harry tilted his head in a way that could almost be considered adorable if Severus were one to use such terms. But he kept any such sentiment to himself as he awaited the boy's response. After a moment, Harry shook his head in a negative reply, causing a frown to form on Severus' face.

Severus then sat across from Harry, his dark eyes boring into the boy's blank expression. Severus leaned forward, his voice low and cautious. "Have you ever spoken, Harry?" he asked, hoping for a response.

But Harry only shrugged a frustratingly unhelpful gesture that left Severus even more exasperated. Before he could press Harry for more information, there was a loud knock on the front door to his rooms. Startled, Harry disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving Severus alone to deal with whoever was interrupting them.

With an irritated sigh, Severus rose from his seat and stalked over to the door. Swinging it open with force, he scowled at the visitor before him – none other than Dumbledore himself, wearing his usual cheerful smile as if he had forgotten that his beloved boy hero had been brutally murdered just days ago.

"Headmaster," Severus bit out, his tone sharp with annoyance. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"My dear boy, it is nearly 9 am!" Dumbledore exclaimed in a falsely cheerful tone, his bright blue eyes twinkling with what Severus suspected was barely concealed amusement. "I must admit, when you didn't appear at the great hall for breakfast this morning, I was quite worried. And I know Minerva was in a rather rough state as well. So I thought I would come check on you."

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't believe for a second that Dumbledore had been genuinely concerned. No, the old Headmaster had probably just been looking for an excuse to interrupt his peaceful morning routine.

"Well, as you can see," Severus retorted through gritted teeth, "I did not asphyxiate on my own vomit during the night." He glanced pointedly at the untouched cup of coffee sitting on his desk. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to enjoy my morning coffee in peace."

He repeated the phrase 'do not punch your boss like a muggle hooligan' as a mantra in his head as he fought to keep his emotions in check. It wasn't easy when dealing with someone as infuriatingly perky as Albus Dumbledore. The tension in his body was nearly palpable as he struggled to maintain a calm exterior in front of Dumbledore's watchful gaze.

Luck seemed to finally be on Severus' side that morning though, as not all of the Gods appeared to hate him. Just as Dumbledore was about to open his mouth again, a shimmering Patronus in the form of a cat from none other than Minerva halted between them.

"Headmaster, several Aurors have arrived at the gates and they are demanding to speak with you immediately." Minerva's words were knife-sharp and direct, brooking no compromise and demanding immediate attention. Severus couldn't help but envy her ability to control both unruly children and even more unruly and demented headmasters with such ease - it was truly an art form.

"Well then, it appears I must excuse myself, Severus. We will reconvene at lunch." Dumbledore said with a tight nod before making his way out of the dungeons to face a hungover Minerva and the unexpected group of Aurors. Severus couldn't help but admire Dumbledore for his calm composure in the face of such a formidable duo. He would rather face Voldemort himself than encounter a hungover Transfiguration mistress without her usual dose of caffeine. The mere thought sent shivers down his spine. 

As soon as Severus closed the heavy wooden door to his chambers, he saw Harry reappear in the living room, this time standing directly in front of Severus’ favorite chair on the far side of the fireplace. The fire crackled and danced with an orange glow, providing plenty of warmth even this far underneath the castle. Severus had this sinking feeling that Harry would be haunting his quarters for the foreseeable future. Summoning his Patronus, he sent the silvery doe off to find Helena, determined to get some proper explanations from her about how she and the Baron managed to lose sight of the 7-year-old ghost so quickly.

It was shaping up to be a long and frustrating day.

Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and his trusted colleague, Auror Dennis Smithly, were assigned as the lead investigators on the highly publicized Potter case. However, with media attention at an all-time high, they were forced to select a team of at least three additional Aurors to aid in their investigation and handle the constant barrage of inquiries. Fortunately, thanks to Shacklebolt's impeccable reputation as a skilled Auror, they were given the liberty to choose their own team - a privilege for which they were immensely grateful. After all, the last thing they needed was to be saddled with incompetent assistance on such a critical and complex case.

Auror Smithly, sitting slouched behind his desk, suggested, "What about Vane and Bell? They've been in the force for a few years now and have a solid reputation."

Kingsley nodded, taking note of Damien Bell's name to be transferred to their caseload. "If we bring in Auror Vane, the entire Potter case will be plastered on the front page of the Daily Prophet and will attract a lot of unwanted attention to our investigation. But Auror Bell could be a good fit with his field experience in the muggle world"

"Vane has improved since the scandal with the Moons, but I understand your concern," Smithly replied with a heavy sigh. "This case is going to be tough, so I'm hesitant to include any rookies. However, I think it would be wise to add Auror Gore to the team on a trial basis."

Kingsley furrowed his brow in thought, tapping his quill against his chin. "Hmm, I can see what you mean," he finally said, stroking his neatly trimmed beard. "Even as a rookie Auror, Gore has proven to be incredibly steady and capable in her line of work. It's not surprising, considering her impressive lineage." With a decisive nod, he reached for another request form and carefully wrote down Venusia Gore's name.

"We could definitely use some fresh eyes and ears on this case," Kingsley continued, placing the form aside before turning to face Smithly. "I also think that Robards would be a valuable addition to the team. He's been steadily climbing the ranks and this could be the opportunity he needs to prove himself worthy of that promotion he's been seeking."

Smithly chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "As long as he doesn't get too cocky and let his ego get in the way while attempting to work with the others," he remarked with a smirk.

"Agreed," Kingsley replied with a small smile. "But there's no denying that he does some pretty decent work." They both shared a knowing look before returning their attention to the task at hand, eager to assemble a strong team for the upcoming case.

Kingsley tapped his quill against the parchment as he spoke, his voice low and urgent. "As soon as they get transferred over to us, we need to meet up and discuss the details of the case. We'll give a debrief of what we have accomplished so far and our plan of action."

Smithly nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"I think we should go straight to Hogwarts and question the staff," Kingsley continued, mostly musing aloud. "They were the ones to raise the alarm, so they may have valuable information for us."

Smithly then chimed in, "We should wait until the others have been transferred over to us. It will be more efficient if we all go together on our interviews at Hogwarts."

"Good point," Kingsley agreed. "I will send off these request forms for Aurors Bell, Gore, and Robards. If you could also send a note to Minerva to expect us tomorrow at the latest?"

Kingsley knew that even with the extra help on this case that sleep would be elusive until everything was resolved. The weight of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders as he thought about the lives at stake and the urgency to solve this mystery. But he was determined to see it through to the end, no matter how long it took or how little rest he got. Little Harry Potter deserved that much.

Despite the extensive precautions taken during the Auror's interviews with the Hogwarts staff, the news of Harry Potter's tragic and gruesome death could not be contained. It spread like wildfire, splashed across every front page of the Daily Prophet with bold, shocking headlines. The entire wizarding world was in an uproar, fueled by fear and sadness at the loss of their beloved hero. The grief and shock were palpable, even in the halls of Hogwarts where students and teachers alike mourned the loss of one of their own.

THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED NO MORE?

By: Rita Skeeter

It is a sad day indeed my readers. Yesterday I was sent news from anonymous sources that the Aurors were at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to conduct interviews with the staff due to the death of one Harry James Potter on March, 16th, 1988. I have to confess myself shocked! How could the boy-who-lived despite the killing curse cast on him from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself have died? Well, readers, I am sorry to write that the infamous Harry Potter's death was quite gruesome indeed and at the hands of muggles nonetheless!

That’s right, Harry Potter, age 7, was murdered by his muggle relatives. Petunia Dursley nee Evans, age 29, sister to Lillian Potter nee Evans, and Vernon Dursley, age 33, husband of Petunia, murdered Harry Potter via strangulation on the evening of March 16th. I have not received any other information on the case except for one very important detail. 

The afternoon of March 19th was when Hogwarts staff alerted the Aurors to the death of Harry Potter. How did they know? Harry Potter’s ghost manifested within the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is right readers, the-boy-who-lived-to-die is now a ghost.

I will be publishing more as more news surrounding the mysterious murder of Harry Potter comes forward. For now, we are left with these questions:

Why was Harry Potter living with Muggles?

Are more muggle-raised students at risk of being hurt or killed by their families?

Who was Harry Potter’s magical guardian and why did they not know that muggles would hurt our boy hero?

Why is Harry Potter now stuck as a ghost and will he be able to pass on to the next life?

For More Information on Harry Potter go to page 3

For More Information on Ghosts and Ghost Lore go to page 7

Chapter Text

The sharp scratching of a pen on paper could be heard as Auror Smithly diligently took notes in his small notepad. His expression remained stoic and professional, despite the unsettling topic at hand.

"So the wards alerted you to a ghost forming within the castle, is that correct?" Smithly asked, keeping his voice neutral.

Dumbledore's face remained serene and cheerful as if he were giving a lesson to his students rather than discussing the tragic death of a child as he replied, "Yes, the castle is always gaining new ghosts. Most don't stick around or can be convinced to pass on at the very least."

Smithly nodded, but inwardly felt disgust at Dumbledore's nonchalant attitude towards death. With a deep breath, he continued, "Right, and then you investigated the forming of this ghost only to discover it was one, Harry Potter."

Dumbledore's jovial tone faltered for a moment before returning to its usual cheerfulness. Smithly couldn't help but keep his occlumency shields firmly up, trying to keep his tone and face professional, as they discussed the tragic fate of a young child.

“Actually,” Dumbledore began, his voice calm and steady. “I sent Severus Snape down to check on the source of the disturbance since it was coming from his dungeons. He knows that part of the castle better than anyone else. It was roughly half an hour after Severus had left the staff room to investigate that we received his urgent Patronus message. It stated that a new ghost had appeared, the ghost being Harry Potter, and suggested someone should check on the welfare of his relatives.”

Smithly's voice cut through the tense silence with a sharp edge of disdain. “And instead of alerting the Aurors as any reasonable person or responsible headmaster would do in such a situation, you sent your own people to handle it? And then they had the presence of mind to notify the proper authorities?” His tone dripped with contempt for Dumbledore's actions.

Dumbledore bristled at the accusation. “The Ministry hasn't always been a reliable source, especially during times of trouble,” he explained, trying to defend his decision. “I didn't want to cause unnecessary panic by involving them prematurely-”

“No, you just wanted to handle things your way, as always,” Smithly cut him off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. With a stern and serious expression, Auror Smithly addressed Dumbledore, his voice tinged with anger. "A child has been found dead, Mr. Dumbledore. It doesn't get much more grave than that." The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air between them. "Consider yourself fortunate that you haven't been charged yet for a multitude of reasons," he continued, his tone firm and unrelenting. "It is a time of peace now, with no dark lord to fight. Engaging in vigilante-style groups like the Order of Phoenix outside of wartime is deemed illegal." He leaned forward, emphasizing each word. "I suggest finding a good lawyer before this all ends unless you want to see the inside of a prison cell."

Dumbledore's face flushed with anger as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a resounding echo. Smithly watched him go, his gaze following until the door clicked shut before signaling for Severus Snape to enter for his interview.

The tension in the room was palpable as Auror Venusia Gore, a rookie with an air of confidence and determination, sat in the corner. She had been assigned to observe the interrogations taking place at Hogwarts under the watchful eye of seasoned Auror Smithly. The other Aurors on the team - Kingsley, Bell, and Robards - were scattered in their own abandoned classrooms, questioning ghosts, students, elves, and staff members alike.

Gore couldn't help but let out a low mutter, "Well, you certainly know how to stir up trouble with the most politically powerful person in this country. Bravo."

Smithly snorted in response. "Men like Dumbledore often get away with murder because we let them hide behind their self-inflated egos. It's times like these where you have to remind them that they are mere mortals, not Gods, and are as such subject to the laws set forth by their fellow men." His lips curled into a sneer of disgust. "Nothing pisses me off more than entitled men like Dumbledore."

Gore couldn't resist a chuckle. "I'll make sure not to get on your bad side then." But her joviality quickly faded as Severus Snape entered the room to be interviewed. It was going to be a long and unforgiving day for all involved.

Minister Milicent Bagnold sat behind a long, polished table in her office, the vast windows behind her casting a warm glow over the room. Her face was tired and lined with worry as she held a conference to discuss the tragic death of Harry Potter and the progress of the investigation. Her office was adorned with ornate tapestries depicting scenes from wizarding history, but they could do little to lighten the heavy atmosphere that hung in the air or provide her any guidance on what to do in such a difficult situation as the one they now found themselves in.

Bagnold's mind drifted back to simpler days when Voldemort had been in power. As much as she hated to admit it, those were easier times for her as Minister. But now, with the death of the wizarding world's hero, everything seemed so much more complicated.

The discussions quickly turned to how to handle the public's response to the murder of Harry Potter. "I have howlers coming in left and right, calling for the deaths of his killers," Bagnold stated with a tone of dread. She knew that the public would not react well if they tried to hand over the suspects to muggle authorities as they normally would.

"We cannot bend or change our laws just because this is a high-profile case!" One of the newer Aurors exclaimed, their voice laced with outrage and disbelief. It was clear that tensions were running high in the Auror offices already.

Lucius Malfoy, sitting in his usual position of privilege, drawling out his thoughts with an air of pompousness. But even his condescending tone could not hide the sharp intelligence behind his words. He was, after all, well-versed in political tactics. "Well, unless you are willing to take on the inevitable uproar and protests that will arise from handing these murderers over to the muggle authorities, I suggest we consider a compromise."

"I am open to suggestions," Bagnold replied, her voice slightly strained. "But we must act quickly before word spreads about the lack of remains to perform traditional funeral rites for Harry Potter. The outcry will only intensify, especially from those who hold traditional beliefs." The weight of her words caused several members of the office to shift uncomfortably in their seats. "We cannot afford any more outrage, especially from the traditionalist party. They will be particularly incensed that two muggles are responsible for seven-year-old Harry Potter's premature and permanent fate as a ghost at Hogwarts." A collective shudder ran through the room at the thought of such a young life cut short by senseless violence and then chained to the mortal realm in a half-life as a ghost. 

"Um, why would the traditionalist party take particular grievance with the lack of a body?" Auror Macon, still green from her recent graduation as an Auror, asked tentatively.

Auror Robards fixed her with a steely gaze, his gruff tone matching his imposing figure. “Auror Macon, you are a muggle-born, are you not?” he asked pointedly.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" Auror Macon puffed out her chest indignantly, feeling defensive and frustrated at being singled out for her blood status.

"Quite a lot actually," sneered Malfoy, his pale features contorted into a look of distaste. "This is why the curriculum at Hogwarts is lacking. Listen here, Auror Macon. Without a body, the funeral rites cannot be performed. That means the magic cannot help release Harry Potter from this plane of existence."

A chill ran down Auror Macon's spine as she took in the gravity of Malfoy's words. A sick feeling settled in her stomach as she realized what he was implying.

"No body means that a little boy is going to be permanently stuck as a ghost until the end of magic herself," Malfoy continued, his voice dripping with spite and malice. "He cannot move on to the afterlife, he cannot meet his parents, and he cannot be reincarnated. Those filthy murdering muggles have damaged that boy in all the worst ways possible."

The room fell silent for a moment as Malfoy's words hung in the air like a thick fog. The anger and hatred radiating from him was almost suffocating.

"Many will be calling for their blood," Lucius continued, his voice low and menacing. "Or at the very least, the dementor's kiss." The mention of this terrifying punishment sent shivers down Auror Macon's spine, reminding her once again of the darkness that lurked within the wizarding world.

“But it’s just some pagan religious beliefs, right? You can’t be serious,” Auror Macon murmured, the dismissive tone clear in her voice.

Minister Bagnold's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Auror Macon pointedly. “That statement is why the purebloods can’t stand muggle-borns, Auror Macon. You live in a world with magic, one that has been shaped by centuries of tradition and belief. I suggest you do not disrespect it or its people and their beliefs if you want to remain on this task force, and more importantly remain working at the ministry,” she said sternly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Auror Macon's eyes widened in shock at the gravity of the situation. She had never considered that her dismissive attitude towards certain magical practices could endanger her job. The realization hit her like a brick wall.

“I have a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore in ten minutes so, is there anything else that we need to discuss right now?” Bagnold asked briskly, her tone returning to its usual business-like demeanor. The tension in the room dissipated slightly, but Auror Macon couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered after their conversation.

"I implore you to refrain from sharing any important information with Albus Dumbledore, unless absolutely necessary," Auror Smithly cautioned seriously. "Once we have dealt with the muggles, I can guarantee that the public will want to demand accountability from Dumbledore for his actions. There may even be calls for his removal from Hogwarts," he added nonchalantly, causing Auror Shacklebolt's face to contort into a frown.

"What could possibly prompt such strong reactions against Dumbledore?" Kingsley asked, attempting to maintain a neutral tone but failing as his confusion seeped through his words. His mind raced with possibilities, but none seemed to fit the wise and respected headmaster of Hogwarts that he knew. 

“At the most basic level, we have enough evidence for charges of child endangerment, abandonment of duties, and obstruction of an Auror investigation. If you take the time to read through the transcripts from our ‘interview’, I am confident that you will see just how many other laws he has broken. I understand that you have a history with Headmaster Dumbledore, particularly through your involvement in the Order of the Phoenix, but I strongly advise severing ties with him before his actions damage your future career.” Smithly delivered his words with blunt force, never one to sugarcoat for the sake of his coworkers' feelings.

Bagnold's face remained stoic as she absorbed this information, leaning back in her chair with a thoughtful expression. "Send me the transcript of the interview," she finally replied, "I will review it and determine how to proceed regarding what Dumbledore should and should not know. The rest of you are dismissed. Use the next few hours to brainstorm ways to calm the public without resorting to a public execution of Muggles. Under my watch, such atrocities will not be tolerated." Her words were sharp and direct as she rose from her seat and swept out of the room. As she left the office, her mind raced with plans and strategies for confronting the Headmaster of Hogwarts. She would not allow his mistakes to tarnish her tenure as Minister, and she was willing to do whatever it took to protect the wizarding world from further harm.

Dumbledore's usually calm demeanor had been replaced by quiet anger as he waited in one of the ornately decorated meeting rooms within the Ministry of Magic. The plush chairs and finely woven tapestries did little to soothe his irritated mind. How dare that insolent upstart of an Auror threaten him? The great Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Dark Lords, and protector of muggle-borns and muggles alike, reduced to a mere target for petty threats. His hand clenched around a stack of papers, a several-page-long complaint addressed to both the Head Auror and Minister Bagnold, outlining the unjust accusations made against him.

He also made note that he needed to pay a visit to the Longbottom estate on his way back to Hogwarts. Augusta Longbottom had yet to respond to any of his letters, and he needed to confirm with her that young Neville was indeed the true ‘boy-who-lived’. It was crucial that he ensure the proper upbringing of this chosen one, especially after the incident with the Potter boy served as a stark reminder of his need for better oversight over his "pet projects".

As he sat in anticipation of his meeting with Minister Bagnold, Dumbledore couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency wash over him - there was much work to be done to protect the wizarding world from dark forces once again.

The door to the meeting room finally creaked open as Albus’ patience was reaching its end, and Minister Bagnold strode in with a commanding presence. She was not conventionally pretty, but her strong features and regal stance gave her a certain handsomeness. Dumbledore's face lit up with a fake smile as he greeted her.

"Ah, Madame Bagnold, how wonderful to see you again! It warms my heart to see my students succeed in such a way as you have." His eyes twinkled with false merriment.

"That is Minister Bagnold to you, Headmaster Dumbledore," she replied curtly. "I would also thank you for dropping the false pleasantries and just tell me what it is you want." Bagnold had no time for games, especially not after some of the stunts that Dumbledore had pulled in the past. She would rather push him down a flight of stairs than help him in any way.

"Of course, Minister. I understand that you are a very busy woman," Dumbledore responded through gritted teeth. His eyes narrowed as he spoke, his posture tense and guarded.

"I was just inquiring about the progress of the investigation on the Dursleys," he continued, his tone seeping with controlled anger. "Their son is currently staying with muggle authorities and is quite distressed. I would like to know when his mother and father can be expected to return home."

Minister Bagnold's face contorted into a look of shock and disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?" she asked incredulously. "Have you truly gone senile at such a young age?"

"I'm sorry, Minister? I don't understand," Dumbledore replied, his tone growing cold as his expression darkened.

"The Dursleys will never regain custody of their son," Bagnold stated firmly. "With the public outcry and outrage, they should count themselves lucky if they even make it to a muggle court before being sentenced to death or fed to the dementors. They brutally abused and ultimately killed a child. A child whom you yourself should have been keeping an eye on, as you were the one who placed him in their care without Ministry approval! Don't think for one moment that your involvement in this tragedy will go unnoticed, Dumbledore. I advise you to tread carefully." The air in the room crackled with tension as the two powerful figures locked gazes, each determined not to back down.

“Now Minister, everyone makes mistakes. You can’t possibly think-” Dumbledore's voice was heavy with emotion as he tried to reason with Minister Bagnold, but his words were cut short by her sharp, bitter laughter.

"Mistakes, you say? You better hope these 'mistakes' only get you kicked out of Hogwarts and not thrown in a cell in Azkaban," she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, like a dark cloud ready to burst. "A child is dead because of your actions, and yet you show no remorse. It disgusts me," Bagnold continued, her gaze unrelenting. "Get out," Bagnold finally ordered, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Dumbledore's lips formed a sneer, an uncharacteristic expression on his kind face. "Well when you need me, you know where I will be," he replied sharply before turning to leave.

As the door closed behind Dumbledore, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. She knew this wouldn't be the last she heard from him, but she was determined to keep him out of her Ministry as long as she held office. After all, it was because of him that Harry Potter had suffered such a fate. Now they must all suffer the consequences for trusting a man who proved himself unworthy in the end. 

Chapter Text

Harry was a poltergeist.

Because of course he bloody was.

As soon as Harry formed as a ghost, it was clear that he was no ordinary spirit. The air around him seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy, and Severus couldn't help but suspect that this was not just any ghost, but a poltergeist. It wasn't surprising, really - the Potter family’s luck had always been terrible, and even in death, it seemed to follow Harry. But perhaps it was for the best that the last of the Potters was now gone, lest their cursed luck bring about the premature end of the world.

But as usual, Lily's son couldn't conform to any conventional norms, even in the afterlife. He didn't fit into the neat categories and descriptions found in books on ghosts and spirits. Severus, always one for thorough research, wished he had better resources on hand on ghosts and their lore so he could understand this unexpected turn of events. But with the Ministry's strict stance against anything resembling necromancy, he knew he should be grateful for what little information he could find.

Poltergeists were typically, classically, and until now only thought of as spirits of indestructible chaos. They were ethereal beings, able to interact with the living world in ways that other non-corporeal entities could not. Ghosts, on the other hand, were limited in their abilities - unable to move physical objects unless they were also non-corporeal. But poltergeists...they were different. Unpredictable. Volatile. Lacking the calm and reasoning skills of ghosts, they often caused mayhem wherever they went. So where did that leave Harry Potter on the scale of supernatural beings? He didn't fit neatly into either category of ghost or poltergeist.

Severus had searched for a classification that would accurately describe Harry's unique abilities but to no avail. Demons and Inferi were too solid and generally raised by dark magic users, specifically necromancers, - a fact that Severus confirmed himself just to cover all his bases.

But it wasn't until Albus scared Harry and nearly got them both killed that Severus came to a firm and solid conclusion. The incident revealed Harry's power levels and confirmed his status as a poltergeist - an incredibly rare and unpredictable being who possessed immense power beyond human or ghostly comprehension. And now, with this knowledge, perhaps they could finally understand and help the boy who seemed caught between worlds.

Severus found Harry haunting his kitchen upon his return from classes that day. The boy seemed to have taken up a permanent residence in the gloomy, dark space of Severus's rooms. As much as he welcomed the company, it was starting to concern Severus.

"Harry, my dear boy," he began tentatively, "you are always welcome to hide in my rooms, but perhaps it would be beneficial for you to spend time with others of your kind." But Harry vehemently shook his head in disagreement, his wild black hair whipping around his face. Severus sighed inwardly. Ghost babysitting, how was this his life?

"Fine," he relented. "You may stay here for now, but please try to interact with others at least once a day. Whether they are corporeal or incorporeal, I don't care, just...try." He couldn't deny the slight worry gnawing at him about the boy's isolation. "I am not the best resource to be your only form of socialization." But Harry simply gave him a droll look, one that Severus knew all too well as he often wore it himself when given inane advice. The two of them had clearly spent too much time together in the past month.

With a resigned sigh, Severus gave in to the inevitable and sank into the plush cushions of his worn leather armchair in the dimly lit living room. A small stack of papers lay on the coffee table next to him, waiting to be graded. As he lifted his quill to begin marking the first paper, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him.

Over the past month, Harry had taken to seeking refuge in Severus' rooms more and more frequently. The boy seemed to prefer the quiet and solitude that came with being in Severus' company, away from the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts Castle. Loud noises or crowded spaces still spooked him, causing him to disappear quickly.

Severus had even begun learning sign language in his free time, determined to find a way for Harry to communicate with him and others more easily. He may have failed in protecting Harry during his life, leaving him doomed to wander as a ghost, but Severus was determined to make sure Harry's afterlife was as comfortable and fulfilling as possible. His knowledge of sign language was limited at best, gained through brief interactions with students who required it over the years, but he knew he needed to deepen his understanding beyond just classroom use if he wanted Harry to truly thrive in this new form of existence.

Severus' mind was completely consumed with thoughts, for once completely unaware of his surroundings. He did not hear the tell-tale sound of someone using the floo network or Albus quietly entering his private rooms without permission. It wasn't until Albus's bright orange and blue dancing star robes caught his eye that he snapped out of his reverie.

"Albus, why are you here?" Severus asked with reluctance, already feeling a headache coming on from looking at the garishness of Dumbledore's robes for too long.

"I simply came to check on you, my boy," Dumbledore replied with a slightly disapproving tone. "And I've heard that Mr. Potter has been hiding in here with you. Shouldn't he be somewhere else?"

Severus sighed, knowing there was no point in denying it. "He often goes out with Helena when she visits, but I believe the constant presence of so many students in the school is overwhelming for him. Perhaps once summer break arrives, he will feel more comfortable interacting with others." The truth was, Severus enjoyed having Harry around, despite his initial reluctance. But he couldn't let Dumbledore know that.

Harry had sat in a corner, trying to blend into the shadows and avoid any unwanted attention from their unexpected intruder, but of course, Dumbledore couldn’t allow the small ghost any peace.

“Now that simply won’t do. Harry!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the small stone-lined room as if he were trying to reach someone who was hard of hearing rather than simply mute. The abruptness of the call startled Harry making him flinch and instinctively he moved farther into Severus' rooms, seeking refuge from the overwhelming presence of Albus Dumbledore. The fact that Harry didn't immediately try to disappear was something Severus would consider progress, but it only seemed to agitate the headmaster further.

“Harry, it is not appropriate for you to be hiding in Professor Snape’s rooms. Come now, let us go to the great hall for dinner and I am sure we can find a group of friends for you to sit with.” Albus continued to lecture, following the retreating form of the small boy at a brisk pace. Severus couldn’t shake the feeling that this would not end well for all involved.

“Albus I don’t think-” Severus' words were cut off as Dumbledore's long strides had caught up with Harry, his long robes billowing behind him. With a towering presence, the Headmaster stood over the trembling ghost of Harry Potter. The young boy seemed to be in a panic, his power raging and crackling around him like a wild storm. In a desperate attempt to get away from Albus, Harry unleashed what appeared to be a small magical bomb, the explosion engulfing Severus and knocking him unconscious.

When he finally woke up a week later in the hospital wing, Severus was met with a pounding headache and a sorrowful apology from the regretful and remorseful child by his bedside.

It took two weeks to repair the extensive damage that had been inflicted upon his living quarters by the explosive burst of magic, the walls and furniture still bearing some leftover scorch marks and splintered wood that refused to be removed by mere magic alone.

Ever since that fateful day in Severus' quarters, Harry had been avoiding the headmaster like the plague. He retreated into his rooms, isolating himself from the outside world and rarely venturing out into the castle corridors unless it was late at night.

Despite this, Severus managed to convince Harry to learn sign language and continued to encourage Harry to communicate through his newly acquired language skills, with some success, although the boy still often resorted to making childish faces and gestures at him.

In those moments, Severus couldn't help but feel a new sense of respect and empathy for parents who were responsible for raising children. It was exhausting and draining work, even with a child who wasn't technically alive. But perhaps that made it easier in some ways - at least Harry couldn't complain about eating vegetables like most children did.

However, there were also challenges with raising a child who would never age - while he may mature and learn, he was forever limited to the emotions and simple thoughts of a child. He would never grow older or fully understand adult complexities. As much as Severus wanted to protect and guide Harry, he also couldn't help but wonder how difficult it must be to navigate life as a forever-child. Even with the challenges though, Severus found himself growing more attached to this unique child with each passing day. 

The looming Dursleys' trial weighed heavily on Severus' mind as he contemplated how to explain his upcoming week-long absence to Harry. He knew the boy would be upset at Severus having to stay in London while he dealt with the trial, and just the mere mention of the Dursleys' names was enough to make Harry’s magic explode in anger destroying various objects around Severus’ rooms in the process.

Thankfully, Helena and the Baron had agreed to keep an eye on Harry while he was away. It was a small comfort, but it eased some of his worries. The thought of Albus being at the trial as well brought a sense of relief to Severus' mind. At least he wouldn't have to deal with the meddling Headmaster constantly pestering Harry in his absence. Without Severus there to protect him, who knows what trouble Harry could get into? Hopefully, when he returned, Harry would forgive him for leaving and understand that it was necessary.

But even with these reassurances, Severus couldn't shake the worry that Harry may hold a grudge against him for leaving him alone during this difficult time. The young ghost boy had slowly but surely worked his way into Severus' once cold heart, and now Severus could confidently say that he truly loved Harry as if he were his own son. The thought of losing that trust and love pained him deeply, but he had endured hurt before and knew he could do so again if it meant protecting Harry from harm. For now, he just hoped that Harry would forgive him and they could continue their unlikely bond upon his return.

Chapter Text

“Silence! Everyone, please take your seats, the trial of Vernon Dursley is about to begin.” The bustling courtroom fell into a hush as Lord Gaius Ogden's powerful voice boomed through the air, commanding attention. Everyone scurried to their seats, eager to witness the highly anticipated trial of Vernon Dursley unfold. The room was filled with a mix of anxious and curious onlookers, all eager to witness the proceedings firsthand. Dumbledore, a key player in the proceedings, was unable to preside as Chief Warlock leaving Ogden with temporary leadership of the Wizengamot - a role that both honored and intimidated him. Anything was better than allowing the haughty Malfoy to preside over such an important trial in any format.

The members of the Wizengamot, usually a lively and bustling group, sat with grave expressions on their faces - a stark contrast to their usual jovial demeanor. Ogden, who had been in attendance for numerous trials and hearings, had never felt such a somber atmosphere before. Even during the trials of the notorious Death Eaters from the previous war, there hadn't been such a heavy sense of morbidity that seemed to hang over everyone in the courtroom.

Last week's session, where they had reviewed the facts of the case at hand, had to be interrupted multiple times due to its gruesome and depressing nature. It was a case unlike any other they had seen in 200 years, and it weighed heavily on their hearts. Magical children were supposed to be cherished and protected above all else, yet here was a trial that would go down in history not only for its rarity but also for its heartrending nature.

The Aurors, adorned in their deep blue formal court robes had their wands at the ready, faces set in grim determination as they yanked open the side door to the courtroom. Vernon Dursley was dragged in, his feet scraping against the floor as he struggled against their hold. Once they had him in the chair at the center of the room, thick chains quickly wrapped tightly around the struggling man’s wrists and ankles, making it impossible for him to escape. The courtroom fell into a deathly silence, all eyes fixed on the twitching man in the chair. His face contorted with rage and fear, veins bulging in his neck as he seemed to shout furiously...but no sound escaped his lips. It was clear that a powerful silencing charm had been placed on him, rendering his screams unheard by anyone but himself. His face grew increasingly red with each passing moment, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled against the magical restraints holding him in place.

“The Murder trial is now commencing on this the 2nd of May 1988, here within the British Ministry of Magic. Offenses committed by Vernon Dursley resident of number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, England. Interrogators are Millicent Margaret Bagnold, Minister of Magic, Lord Gaius Ogden, temporary Chief Warlock, and Lady Amelia Susanna Bones, Head of the Department for Law Enforcement. Charges are as follows; neglect of a magical child, abusing a magical child, endangerment of a magical child, and most heinous of all, the murder of one Harry James Potter, as well as tampering with evidence in a murder investigation and assaulting the Aurors during your arrest.” A hush fell over the room as Minister Bagnold posed the question that hung in the air like a dark cloud - "How do you plead, Mr. Dursley?" Her voice echoed through the chamber as she gestured to a nearby Auror to lift the silencing spell from Vernon's mouth, ready to hear his response.

Vernon's voice echoed through the courtroom, filled with anger and hatred. His face was contorted into a cruel sneer as he yelled at the officials in front of him.

"The little freak deserved everything he got!" he spat out. "I will not put up with your lot holding me captive! This is kidnapping! Assault! Harassment! Let Me GO!" His voice cracking and straining with anger. The veins in his neck bulged and his face turned an alarming shade of red. The callous way he spoke about young Mr. Potter shocked the court, sending a wave of murmurs and gasps through the room. 

Minister Bagnold, however, looked unfazed by Vernon's outburst, having met with the unpleasant man several times over the previous weeks. "The proper channels have been adhered to Mr. Dursley," she stated calmly. "The muggle authorities know that you are here and are currently being tried for crimes against your magical nephew. Now, if we could proceed, I need you to state for the record: guilty or not guilty. Keep in mind we have memory testimony where you already admitted to killing your nephew."

But Vernon was seething with rage and showed no signs of backing down. "So what if I killed the little shit?!" he roared. "The world is better off having one less freak infecting it!" Vernon shouted, his voice laced with venom and no trace of remorse. His hatred towards magic and those who possessed it was palpable, filling the room with a thick tension, especially on the traditionalist side of the Wizengamot.

Bagnold's voice was harsh and laced with disbelief as she barked out the command, "Aurors, silence him once more." She struggled to comprehend the callousness of this man, no, this whale, as he showed no remorse for ending the life of a young child.

Ogden's voice resonated through the courtroom as he addressed the Wizengamot, "Honored Lords and Ladies, you have all seen the evidence against this man and heard his own admission of guilt in taking the life of Harry Potter. Please step into the adjacent room to discuss the punishment this court will bring down upon Mr. Dursley's head." There was no need to prove Vernon's guilt; it was already clear and everyone in the room already knew it. The only question remaining was how severe his punishment would be.

Bagnold's voice was quiet but sharp as she reminded the Wizengamot of the consequences of Mr. Dursley's actions, "May I also remind you that Harry Potter now resides at Hogwarts as a ghost, unable to move on to be with his beloved parents due to his body being destroyed. No rites can be performed for him, thanks to the Dursleys' actions. Not only did they take his life, but they condemned a little boy to an eternity trapped in a half-life until the end of magic." As she spoke, her anger and disgust towards these people grew even stronger. In her opinion, there could never be enough punishment for what they had done to an innocent child under their care.

Severus sat with a smoldering rage in the gallery, his dark eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him, his body tense and coiled like a snake ready to strike. On one hand, he was grateful that he didn't have to provide testimony, but on the other hand, frustrated at being pulled away from his duties at Hogwarts. He would rather be at Hogwarts, tending to an agitated little boy who couldn't understand why Severus had been called away to London. But if all the trials were as swift as this one seemed to be, he might actually make it home earlier than expected.

As Vernon Dursely's voice surely grew shriller and more hysterical with every passing minute, Severus couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at watching Harry’s tormentor finally losing control. The silencing charm placed upon Vernon made his tantrum resemble that of a toddler's, and very few in the courtroom paid him any mind. Lost in his own amusement, Severus failed to notice the subtle shift in atmosphere among those still present.

But when the low murmuring suddenly ceased and gave way to an eerie silence, Severus jolted back to attention. His gaze snapped over to a now-pale and trembling Vernon, who had stopped shouting and was instead staring wide-eyed at something beyond Severus's vision.

The sudden change in everyone's behavior could be traced back to a pouting ghostly figure of Harry Potter sitting (floating? hovering?) to Severus' left. The room fell into a hushed silence as all eyes turned towards the supernatural presence. Severus let out a resigned sigh, realizing that he should have expected this.

"Harry," he addressed the ghost quietly, his voice barely audible over the gasps and whispers of others in the room. "Do Helena and the Baron know that you are here?" Instead of a response, Severus was met with an impressive version of his own sharp glare from the translucent form before him. "You do understand that I was only trying to protect you," he continued, his tone softening as he spoke. "I couldn't bear the thought of you facing your cruel relatives again after everything they've done to you." Severus' worried gaze scanned over Harry's ghostly features, fearing that this unexpected visit would undo all the progress he had made in helping Harry heal.

A quick flick of Harry's hand conveyed his frustration and disinterest. Severus couldn't help but wonder how he had ended up in this situation. Before he could respond to Harry's sassy gesture, Dumbledore interrupted their conversation with his usual cheery tone.

"Harry my boy! It's good to see you here. Perhaps you can persuade the Wizengamot to reconsider their decision to prevent them from leaving your cousin without parents." But there was a hint of manipulative disappointment in his voice that didn't go unnoticed by Severus. He knew this was going to backfire on Dumbledore, and he would inevitably get caught in the crossfire due to their close proximity.

Harry's ghostly form tensed at the mention of his cousin and Dumbledore calling him ‘boy’. His expression clearly showed his readiness to tear off Dumbledore's beard for even suggesting that the Dursleys should be let off the hook for the sake of his cousin.

The courtroom was alive with tension as Harry steadied himself, preparing to unleash another magical attack. Before he could, however, Minister Bagnold's voice cut through the air like a knife. Her tone was filled with both disbelief and anger. "How dare you suggest such a thing, Dumbledore! Especially to Mr. Potter's face. If you do not remove yourself from his presence immediately, I will have the Aurors take you into custody. Do you understand?"

Dumbledore attempted to speak, but the minister shut him down with a sharp glare.

"Did I stutter, Dumbledore? Give me any excuse and I'll have you locked in a cell until your trial for your part in this mess." The entire courtroom held its breath as Milicent Bagnold and Albus Dumbledore engaged in a battle of wills.

Severus couldn't help but catch a glimpse of a sly smirk on Harry's face in the midst of all the chaos. At least someone was finding some enjoyment in this tense situation. As for Severus, he was certain he could feel heartburn creeping up from just today's events alone.

The air in the gallery was thick with tension as Minister Dumbledore clenched his teeth and tried to keep up a mask of forced politeness as he reluctantly made his way to the other side of the room under the Minister's intense gaze.

"I apologize, Mr. Potter, for Dumbledore's behavior," Bagnold interjected smoothly, attempting to diffuse the situation. "You are, of course, welcome here. Though I suspect your visit is more for Master Snape's presence than ours." She gave a small smile that did little to hide her irritation.

Severus remained silent, his dark eyes fixed on the Minister as she spoke. He could feel the weight of her gaze, assessing him like a specimen under a microscope.

"Master Snape, I will keep you closely informed, especially if we need your testimony. But I doubt we will." Bagnold continued, her smile widening as she turned to address both Harry and Severus. "You are free to return to Hogwarts if you wish." As she spoke,

Severus couldn't help but steal a glance at Harry, noticing the pleading look in Harry's eyes as he gazed up at him. He had always scoffed at the notion of parents giving in to their child's so-called ‘puppy dog eyes,’ but now he found himself melting under Harry's intense longing and hope. It was a look that stirred something deep within him - a protective instinct he didn't even know he had.

“Yes, I believe Hogwarts is where we will be heading back to. Thank you, Minister, for all that you have done. I eagerly await your decision on appropriate punishments for these abhorrent creatures.” Severus spoke in a chilling tone, rising from his seat and giving a curt nod to Harry before the boy vanished with a wide grin. He was probably already waiting for him in their quarters at Hogwarts. 

“I can assure you, they will not get off lightly,” Bagnold promised with a cruel smile. Her unspoken words were clear - Dumbledore's influence would not save them from facing justice. Bagnold's resolve was unwavering; it would be over her dead body before they walked free.

Severus breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that there was at least one member of the ministry who could match Dumbledore's expert manipulation. With a swift nod, Severus quickly exited the courtroom and made his way to Floo Hall in the grand atrium of the ministry.

The polished marble floors gleamed under the enchanting sunlight pouring through the stained glass windows. A sense of urgency gripped him as he knew returning to Hogwarts was their best chance for normalcy and peace. The sooner he could return to Hogwarts, the sooner he could calm Harry and restore their daily routine.

He had hope that this time, the Wizengamot would make an intelligent decision, but the cold and reassuring words of Minister Bagnold still echoed in his mind. The Dursleys would finally face consequences for their actions, and even Dumbledore seemed to be held accountable for once.

All Severus had to focus on now was caring for a 7-year-old poltergeist.

At that moment, taking on Dumbledore himself seemed like a much easier task in comparison.

Chapter Text

In a shocking turn of events, Vernon and Petunia Dursley etched their names into wizarding history, leaving a stain that would never be forgotten. For the first time in the history of the Wizengamot, there was a unanimous decision on both of the Dursleys' trials. They were swiftly sentenced to 7 years, 8 months, and 16 days in high security at Azkaban - the infamous wizarding prison known for its soul-sucking dementors. Never before had muggles been held captive within its walls. And as if that wasn't enough, upon their release, they would become the first non-magical individuals to receive the Dementor's kiss - a fate worse than death.

The date was etched into everyone's minds: May 2nd, 1988. A day that would go down in infamy for all the wrong reasons. The entire nation mourned the loss of an innocent child, and bitter anti-muggle sentiments reached new heights - surpassing even those at the peak of the witch burnings. It left Severus Snape with a heavy heart and deep worry for what this could mean when Voldemort inevitably returned...because he would return, and with him, even more devastation and destruction.

The summer sun beat down on the Hogwarts grounds, casting long shadows across the castle as Albus Dumbledore trudged towards his fate. It was July 30th, the day before what should have been Harry Potter's 8th birthday, but instead, it marked the beginning of Albus' downfall. Stripped of all his titles and expelled from Hogwarts, he stood in front of the Wizengamot sentenced to eight years of magical probation, only barely escaping a prison sentence himself, with a heavy heart and shattered reputation.

His once beloved name was now tainted with disgrace. And to make matters worse, Rita Skeeter had just published a scathing book exposing all of Albus' hidden misdeeds. Rumor had it that she received some help from a certain potion master, but that was a secret known only to him and Harry, who couldn't help but smirk at the chaos their actions had caused.

In a surprising and controversial decision, the board of governors and the Wizengamot select Filius Flitwick as the new headmaster of Hogwarts, bypassing Minerva McGonagall for the position. The announcement sent shockwaves throughout Hogwarts, as it meant a significant overhaul of the school's administration for the upcoming year. During the summer of 1988, the school itself also underwent a major overhaul with numerous changes implemented. Among them, Minerva was given an ultimatum: choose between remaining as the head of Gryffindor House or the Deputy Headmistress. In a fit of frustration akin to that of his godson, Severus Snape would later relate, she chose neither and decided to retire early instead.

Thankfully, the board did not leave Filius to struggle alone in filling not only the newly vacated roles but also creating new positions for classes that had been unjustly removed. This new school year would see the re-introduction of courses in wizarding culture, politics, alchemy, magical theory, and warding. And with future plans to add even more classes in the years to come, Hogwarts was on its way to becoming a well-rounded and comprehensive learning institution for young witches and wizards.

Filius, with his uncanny ability to persuade and negotiate, had managed to secure the cooperation of the goblins in lifting the curse on the defense against the dark arts position at Hogwarts. In a tense and unexpected meeting with Severus, Filius revealed that the binding contract Albus had used to trap him at the school was now null and void. The news left Severus reeling, but after much contemplation, he made the difficult decision to remain at Hogwarts - not for any love of the school or its headmaster, but for a 7-year-old ghost who had grown to depend on him.

Amendments were made to his contract as well - he would receive a substantial pay increase while retaining his title as Head of Slytherin House, but he would now instead take on the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. A new potions professor would be hired in his place, but Severus had agreed to continue aiding Poppy in brewing the more complex medical potions she required. This shift in responsibilities brought both relief and added pressure to Severus, but he knew he had made the right decision for himself and those who depended on him, especially Harry.

As the start of the new school year approached, Hogwarts was buzzing with changes. Pomona Sprout, a seasoned professor with years of experience, would be taking over as deputy headmistress and part-time head of Hufflepuff. She would also be tasked with training a new head of house for the loyal badgers, similar to what Filius would be doing for the new head of Ravenclaw.

With the departure of Minerva McGonagall, Filius had asked Severus to assist in training a new head for Gryffindor. Despite feeling hesitant about the extra responsibilities, Severus couldn't find a proper argument against it. In fact, he often felt that Minerva was too hands-off with her beloved lions.

The coming school year promised to be a tumultuous one with so much change and so many unfamiliar faces, but Severus held onto a glimmer of hope that it would ultimately benefit the students in the long run.

To prepare for any potential threats, wards were strengthened and updated throughout the castle. And thanks to diligent efforts from the Hogwarts Board working with Filius, competent professors had been hired - including one to teach History of Magic and replace the old Professor Binns. The latter had finally agreed to lend his expertise to help Madam Pince manage and organize the vast library archives.

But despite all these changes, Severus's main focus remained on spending every moment possible with Harry Potter - his unexpected but cherished source of joy and comfort amidst all the chaos and uncertainty at Hogwarts. After all, they had been through together, this was one constant that Severus refused to compromise on.

Harry's once timid and uncertain demeanor had transformed into one of confidence and power. It was as if a spark had been ignited within him, guiding him towards his true potential. By sheer luck, Harry had encountered one of the goblin ward masters within the castle who had recognized what Harry was, providing Severus with the key to unlocking the knowledge he desperately sought. It wasn't the knowledge of how to help the boy move on to the afterlife, but rather, it was knowledge of what Harry truly was and how he could control his immense powers.

Ward Master Dirn became like a soothing balm to Severus' troubled soul and restless nights. He had spent countless hours searching for a way to help Harry, to no avail. But now, with Dirn's guidance and expertise, there was hope. Dirn sat down with Severus and explained that most ghosts were mere shadows and echoes of their former selves. They had the option to pass on and reunite with their complete soul in the afterlife. These ghosts were often bound to this plane by strong emotions or regrets until they were ready to move on. However, Harry was different. His entire being, both soul and magic, was trapped here in this world.

In ancient times, Harry would have been revered as a Spirit Guide. The old tales spoke of certain individuals who were bound to the earthly realm by fate itself, chosen for a specific purpose. These guides were known for aiding in times of great need and providing refuge for lost souls seeking passage to the afterlife.

Severus immediately protested when the burden of such a role was mentioned, insisting that it was far too much responsibility for a mere 7-year-old. He declared that fate could fight him itself if it thought he would allow such a daunting responsibility to fall upon the boy's small shoulders. Dirn's response had been a terrifying smile, revealing only slightly pointed teeth, before assuring Severus that the boy was indeed up to the task. But he never elaborated on what exactly that task entailed.

From then on, every Thursday, Dirn would appear at Hogwarts and take Harry under his wing, teaching him how to control and harness his unique powers passing down centuries-old knowledge and techniques with unending patience.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Severus allowed himself to hold onto hope. It was a rare and precious feeling, one that he had long given up on. But watching Harry after his lessons, he could see the change in him. The young ghost seemed to almost visibly glow with newfound confidence, his powers becoming stronger each day. And even though he still didn't speak often, he had picked up sign language with astounding ease.

As they walked through the castle corridors, Severus couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to hire a mind healer for a ghost.

But for now, things were good. Not perfect, but definitely better than before. As much as he wanted to believe that this was the new normal, experience had taught him that good things don't last forever. And unfortunately, their peace was about to be shattered once again.

“Severus? Are you alright?” Filius asked gently, laying a comforting hand on his colleague's shoulder. The staff meeting had just ended, and the start of a new school year was looming over them.

Severus let out a heavy sigh, his eyes betraying the turmoil he felt inside. "He should have been getting sorted tomorrow," he said with regret, his voice barely above a whisper. This day was going to hit him hard; he had been dreading it for months, but no amount of preparation could ease the gut-wrenching feeling that made it hard to breathe.

Filius nodded in understanding, knowing that many of their colleagues were also feeling somber today. "The sorting hat and I have been discussing possible solutions," he began carefully. "With Harry's help, we believe that we can still include him in the sorting ceremony tomorrow evening." He paused, studying Severus' face for a reaction. "It won't be the full Hogwarts experience, but Master Dirn has been tutoring him for years now. We think Harry should be able to participate in as many classes as possible."

A fragile spark of hope flickered in Severus' eyes at Filius' words. The usually stoic and closed-off man had found a soft spot for Harry and seeing this glimmer of emotion in him made Filius want to cry. "You've done so much for him," he added sincerely.

Severus hesitated to hope, unsure if his dream could truly become a reality. "Are you sure?" he asked Filius, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. "What about the governors?"

Filius' smile was bright and reassuring. "As if they would dare to deny such a proposal," he replied confidently. "I've already obtained their signatures of approval, all that's left is for you to speak with Harry." Filius said with a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "And, if we can make it work, I was thinking we could even start a club on the weekends for his classmates to learn sign language. I know you have been unofficially helping students learn in your free time but we can make it official to better integrate Harry in with his peers."

"You are a good man, Filius," Severus said sincerely, a rare display of warmth from the stoic professor. With a nod and a smile, Filius released Severus to go share the good news with Harry. The last couple of years had been difficult for both of them, but the changes at Hogwarts had brought some positive changes as well. Everyone considered Harry to be unofficially Severus' son, and this new opportunity for them both was something to be cherished.

The moment had arrived. All eyes were on Harry as he nervously made his way to the sorting hat. The students whispered and pointed, some with surprise at seeing a ghost amongst their ranks.

Severus felt a protective urge towards the small seven-year-old among the bigger eleven-year-olds, wishing he could shield him from any harm and bundle him up for cuddles. But the boy had to grow up eventually, even if he couldn’t do it physically.

The first happy surprise to occur was that Harry was able to be sorted despite being a ghost. He bravely placed the hat on his translucent head and waited patiently for its decision.

Then came the second surprise: Harry was sorted into Hufflepuff, much to everyone's shock. No one had expected him to be placed in that house over Gryffindor or Slytherin. But as they all watched with wide eyes, Severus included, Harry Potter became a new member of the badger house.

There was a moment of silence before Severus started the clapping, soon joined by everyone else in the Great Hall. It didn't matter which house Harry belonged to, what mattered was that he was here at Hogwarts, finally getting to experience all it had to offer. A sense of warmth and pride filled Severus as he looked at Harry's happy expression; he deserved every ounce of happiness and belonging that this school could provide him with. Despite his difficult past, Harry deserved to have a chance at a normal life within these walls. And with that, Severus couldn't help but smile as he watched Harry take his place amongst his new housemates. 

The intelligence of young Harry never ceased to amaze Severus, filling him with a sense of smug satisfaction. Even Pomona and Poppy had placed bets on how long it would take for someone to burst the bubble of pride surrounding Severus as a father figure.

Master Dirn had warned them that since Harry was a Spirit Guide, his abilities to adapt, mature, and learn surpassed those of a normal ghost. However, he remained forever seven years old, and there would come a point where his mind would no longer be able to absorb new information.

The uncertainty of when this point would arrive caused Filius great worry, as it would undoubtedly have a devastating effect on both Harry and Severus. But for now, they were content to bask in their small slice of happiness.

The sun shone brightly through the windows, casting beams of light onto the cozy room where Severus and Harry sat discussing spells and potions, their bond as Father and Son growing stronger by the day. Each moment and day was cherished despite the looming uncertainty of Harry’s future.

Chapter Text

In Harry's ‘second year’ at Hogwarts, the unthinkable happened. The Dark Lord had somehow managed to resurrect himself and return in a corporeal form.

It was a shock to everyone when Ginny Weasley went missing, but it wasn't until Harry discovered her lifeless body beneath the school that the true horror became apparent. How had the Dark Lord returned? Some whispered it was through a twisted ritual involving Ginerva Weasley's death, but no one truly knew for sure. Panic and chaos ensued as the newly resurrected Dark Lord cut a bloody swath through Hogwarts, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction. By the time he escaped from the school, six students lay dead and countless others were gravely injured, left maimed and traumatized by the events that unfolded within the castle walls.

The once-bustling halls of the school were now eerily quiet as it lay empty and abandoned. The tragedy that had occurred there still hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Funerals for the fallen students were put on hold until a team of brave curse breakers could successfully enter the dreaded Chamber of Secrets, slay the monstrous Basilisk that resided within, and retrieve the lifeless body of Ginerva Weasley.

Amongst the emptiness, Severus remained, his only companions being the ghosts, portraits, and the ever-diligent house elves. But most importantly, he stayed for Harry. As he wandered through the empty classrooms and corridors, Severus couldn't help but mourn the fact that Harry had only experienced a mere two years of traditional schooling at Hogwarts.

Despite this, Severus couldn't help but feel immense pride in Harry's academic achievements. He excelled in every class he was able to take, despite facing countless challenges and obstacles along the way. There were moments of struggle, like when Harry destroyed Severus' dining room table in fear of disappointing him with his sorting into Hufflepuff and not Slytherin. But overall, Harry adapted well to the magical world and made many friends throughout his short time there - even in death, his impact was immeasurable.

As the Spring of 1993 dawned, the war was once again rearing its ugly head. There was no Dumbledore to lead them, as he had been stripped of his titles and left a social outcast. The Order of Phoenix, what remained of it, was scattered to the winds with no clear leader to bring them together. Severus, unable to continue his role as a double agent after recent events, still held some sway with the Board of Governors and Ministry of Magic.

It took months of tense meetings and two devastating raids from the Death Eaters, resulting in numerous casualties, before both the Wizengamot and the Board finally agreed to Severus' desperate proposal: to open Hogwarts not as a school, but as a refuge for those fleeing the horrors of war. The sprawling castle had more than enough room to house all who sought safety within its walls, and the house elves were glad for meaningful work once again. As the refugees poured in, the air was heavy with fear and uncertainty, it also felt like a small beacon of hope amidst the chaos and darkness that surrounded them.

As the sun rose on August 18th, 1993, Hogwarts Castle stood tall and proud, its doors flung open wide to welcome all who sought refuge within its walls. Tight security measures were put in place, ensuring that no Death Eaters could slip through the cracks and enter the safe haven.

Despite the gravity of the situation, there was a touch of humor in the air as one particular seven-year-old boy stood guard at the main checkpoint. Harry Potter, with his bright green eyes and unruly black hair, stood at the forefront of these precautions as only a sprightly Spirit Guide could do, proving time and again his uncanny knack for detecting even the most cunning of Voldemort's followers attempting to breach Hogwarts' defenses. Master Dirn had only smirked ominously when Severus mentioned Harry's talent for weeding out infiltrators with ill intentions - a skill that had undoubtedly saved countless lives during this tumultuous time.

As chaos reigned outside the castle walls, a small group of dedicated staff members remained inside to keep order. Filius, Poppy, Pomona, and Hagrid worked alongside Severus, using all their magical abilities to keep those entering the castle in check. Severus couldn't take all the credit for this feat, as Harry's leadership had also played a major role. The ghosts and house elves, under his guidance, were instrumental in preventing any major incidents from occurring.

Meanwhile, Severus and Poppy toiled tirelessly to ensure that the infirmary was well-stocked with potions and supplies, bracing themselves for the influx of injured witches and wizards arriving at the school each day. Each day brought new challenges and obstacles, but they were determined to persevere for the sake of their fellow witches and wizards seeking refuge within Hogwarts' walls. 

The future ahead, however, was looking quite grim, a looming threat that they couldn't hide from forever. It was December of 1993, less than 10 months since the Dark Lord had risen again and taken control. And now, the Ministry had fallen to his forces, leaving Hogwarts as one of the few remaining safe havens. But even that protection seemed tenuous at best.

Dumbledore, ever the cunning strategist, had tried to sneak back into Hogwarts after the Ministry had fallen to Voldemort’s forces, but he was swiftly rejected by the ever-watchful Harry Potter and his security measures. The once-powerful wizard was thrown out on his face before he could even say ‘lemon drop’.

But even though Dumbledore may have been ousted from Hogwarts, his powerful charisma still managed to gather a small group of witches and wizards from the Order of Phoenix to act in his name. However, their organization and effectiveness were lacking. In just a matter of days, Lord Voldemort himself, looking younger and more powerful than ever before, and his loyal Death Eaters mercilessly killed off, tortured, or captured the few witches and wizards who had naively joined forces with Dumbledore.

On March 5th of 1994, the wizarding world was shaken to its core as news spread that Albus Dumbledore, once one of the greatest wizards of all time and now social pariah, had been personally killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort. The budding rebellions against his tyrannical rule seemed to come to a sudden and crushing halt. Severus knew with certainty that Hogwarts would be the next target for Voldemort's wrath. 

Using his connections and influence within the Wizengamot, many of whom had taken refuge at Hogwarts along with other members of the resistance, Severus quickly reached out to the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW) for assistance. They began coordinating efforts to evacuate as many refugees as possible from Hogwarts and move them to safety in other countries as far from the U.K. as they could manage.

They needed to move quickly if they wanted to save as many lives as possible. Women and children were given priority and sent away on portkeys first. It was a race against time. As they successfully evacuated all of the vulnerable inhabitants in less than a week since Dumbledore's death, Severus couldn't shake off the feeling of impending doom. They were in the midst of coordinating more portkeys for the remaining wizards when Voldemort launched his attack on Hogwarts. The race against time had been lost and now it was up to those left behind to fight for their lives.

As the last week of March 1994 crept by, a sense of impending doom hung heavy in the air of Hogwarts. Voldemort and his horde of Death Eaters and allies lay just beyond the formidable wards surrounding the castle. Severus felt a leaden weight in his stomach, fear coursing through his veins like a deadly poison. He had sent out the alarm to the International Confederation of Wizards, desperately hoping for their aid before it was too late.

The waiting was excruciating as they prayed for the War Crimes brigade of Aurors to arrive in time to save them from the dark forces looming outside. Even the usually fearless ghosts seemed to tremble with trepidation, huddling together in small groups for comfort. All except for one, that is - Harry Potter. Despite being a mere ghost, he exuded an unwavering sense of confidence and trust that everything would be alright.

Severus couldn't help but marvel at the young boy's resilience and bravery. It was as if he had no concept of fear after everything he had been through. He couldn't help but wonder if this was all part of Fate's plan - for Harry to serve as the last line of defense against Tom Marvolo Riddle and his tyranny. After all, this seven-year-old Spirit Guide was once destined to defeat Voldemort as the chosen one of the prophecy. But perhaps that was all they needed - someone who could face Voldemort without hesitating, someone who refused to give in to fear and despair even in the face of such darkness. 

From the vantage point of the astronomy tower, Severus gazed down at the formidable army gathered below. The sight of Voldemort's followers, including Death Eaters, Giants, and Trolls, sent a chill through his body. Despite Harry's unwavering optimism, Severus could not see any glimmer of hope in the dark, looming figures before him. Instead, all he could envision was their inevitable and brutal demise.

The urgent voice of Filius broke through the tense atmosphere, startling Severus from his thoughts. The International Confederation of Wizards had finally responded to their plea for reinforcements, but with the wards on the brink of falling, it seemed they would arrive too late.

"A battalion is on its way," Filius announced "But we must prepare ourselves. Harry is already activating castle defenses that I didn't know existed." Filius, usually so cheerful and full of life, spoke in a somber tone that sent shivers down Severus's spine. "We must gather all those who are able and willing to fight and prepare for battle," he said with a sense of urgency.

Severus couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of facing their enemies head-on. "But we have civilians downstairs, not warriors," he pointed out with a hint of regret in his voice.

"We must work with what we have," Filius replied firmly. “We cannot just roll over and play dead. The Death Eaters enjoy playing with their food and will not allow us a quiet death or surrender.”

"I am well aware of that," Severus said wearily, his body sagging against the cold stone wall of the tower for support. He knew better than anyone the brutality of their enemies and the reality of their situation.

"I will need your help, Severus," Filius said, his voice laced with urgency. "To rally who we can to defend the castle. Just long enough for the battalion from the ICW to arrive."

“Yes. I guess now is not the time to stand idly while war is breathing on our front door.” Severus nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He mourned for the peace and beauty of the castle, knowing that it was about to become a bloody battlefield. Despite his reluctance, he stood up and followed Filius back downstairs into the fray.

"You are becoming poetic in your old age, Severus," Filius remarked, trying to diffuse the rising tensions between them.

"I blame Harry," Severus retorted with a hint of sarcasm. Filius couldn't help but smirk at this response.

"Has he been making you read poetry again?"

"Yes," Severus admitted with a sigh. "It is his favorite pastime, to have me read poems to him after I have finished with the day. My brain swims in metaphors and overused adjectives." He complained half-heartedly, unable to deny the enjoyment he found in reading poetry to Harry.

Filius chuckled at this complaint, not believing it for a moment.

"Well, maybe you can distract the Death Eaters with your prose and that sharp tongue of yours," he suggested.

“You aren’t as funny as you’d like to think Filius.” Severus drawled as they reached the great hall, where most everyone left in the castle spent most of their day. 

“We are on the brink of war and death watches us closely. I am hilarious.” Filius said smugly, causing Severus to roll his eyes. 

Filius was right about one thing. Death loomed over them, a palpable presence as the wards began to slowly crack under the relentless assault of Voldemort and his minions. One moment everything was in motion, they were strategizing and preparing for the future, their minds racing with plans and possibilities. But between one breath and the next, it was like the world both froze and moved in fast motion.

The bursting of wards was blinding, the air filled with debris and the scent of magic gone awry. Severus couldn't tell if the sound was so loud it rendered everyone deaf or if it was eerily silent because any noise would bring their deaths. The weight of the full-scale war crashing down upon them was suffocating. Voldemort had finally come for Hogwarts, for them. And death, a cold and unforgiving force, was here watching with hungry eyes. For years to come, the aftermath of this battle would haunt the wizarding world.

It all happened so quickly - on March 21st, 1994 - in the blink of an eye, and yet its impact would be felt for generations to come.

The Battle of Hogwarts had begun, and just as swiftly, it ended.

Chapter Text

The Battle of Hogwarts would be forever etched in the pages of wizarding history, a tragic and violent event that would haunt the memories of all who witnessed it. As the protective wards around the castle crumbled, chaos erupted in a matter of seconds. The once peaceful grounds were now a battleground, stained with blood and littered with lifeless bodies.

In those agonizing seventeen minutes, before reinforcements arrived from the War Crime Division of Aurors and the ICW, an unimaginable amount of death and destruction had already taken place, leaving behind a trail of broken and mutilated wizards and witches from both sides. The smell of burning magic and flesh hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sweet scent of honeysuckle that usually graced the castle walls. 

In the span of 60 seconds, the newest arrivals took in the chaotic scene before them and readied themselves for battle. As spells flew and swords clashed all around, a sudden shift in energy on the school grounds drew everyone's attention to Severus Snape: Spy, Professor, and Unofficial Adopted Father of young Harry Potter. He stood alone, facing off against the Dark Lord himself. They had been locked in a fierce duel since the wards had first broken. But now, as their spells clashed and their movements blurred, something unexpected caught everyone's eye--Severus Snape being struck by an Avada Kedavra curse that he could not dodge.

For a moment, everything seemed to stand still. The world held its breath as Severus fell to the ground, his wand slipping from his grasp. A triumphant sneer began to spread across Voldemort's face at finally defeating the traitor. But before anyone could react or return to their own bloody battles, a powerful shockwave rippled through the air. It was as if the very earth itself was shaking beneath them.

With a fierce explosion of energy and rage, Harry Potter - Spirit Guide, Poltergeist, Forever Age Seven, Ex-Boy-Who-Lived, and adopted son of Severus Snape - witnessed the horrific sight of Severus, HIS beloved Severus, being struck down by Voldemort. The sheer force of Harry's emotions created a shockwave that rippled through the air, knocking anyone within a kilometer of the school off their feet. Weaker individuals were even rendered unconscious by the intense power radiating from Harry, as he transformed into a crackling ball of furious energy and magic. Even the all-powerful Dark Lord stumbled and nearly fell under the force of Harry's wrath before turning his attention to the formidable young ghost standing before him.

There were no grand speeches, no gloating, no snide comments. There was only a deadly silence before the force of energy known as Harry Potter slammed itself into the Dark Lord's chest with a deafening impact. The air crackled and sizzled as the power surged through Voldemort's body, causing his eyes to widen in shock and agony before he was thrown to the ground. His screams echoed through the air as he writhed in pain, his fingers clawing desperately at his now pale skin. It was a horrifying sight - the once-proud Dark Lord reduced to a quivering, broken mess before everyone's eyes.

But the worst was yet to come. As quickly as it had started, Voldemort's screams abruptly fell silent. In their place was a blinding white light that engulfed his body, burning and scorching him until he was unrecognizable. When the light finally faded, leaving spots dancing in everyone's vision, all that remained of the once-mighty wizard was a charred corpse.

The powerful wizard had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash and memories, leaving behind a scene that would forever haunt those who witnessed it and would undoubtedly go down in history textbooks as one of the most gruesome displays of defeat.

The chaos of the battle had settled, and the Death Eaters and their allies were easily subdued. The casualties were gathered and tended to with urgency, but amidst the loud celebrations, one person was noticeably absent – Harry Potter.

Filius Flitwick, with his sharp eyes and perceptive mind, took notice of this absence, wondering if perhaps killing Voldemort had drained all energy from Harry's being. But then he remembered that Harry had just lost Severus Snape. Filius knew that for Harry, losing Severus meant losing yet another parental figure, his only source of love and family that he could fully remember. At that moment, he quietly mourned for both of them - lives cut too short and destroyed by a war that could have been prevented.

In that moment and with a heavy heart, Filius made a promise to himself and to Hogwarts. Despite what may be written in history books or said by the Ministry or reporters, he would ensure that the true stories of Severus Snape and Harry Potter were told to every new generation of students at Hogwarts. The school would become a memorial for them, honoring their bravery and sacrifice even when the rest of the world forgot. For they deserved to be remembered for who they truly were, not just as casualties of a great battle. Hogwarts would keep their memory alive, even when the rest of the world forgot. It was the least they could do to honor their fallen heroes.

On a somber Friday, April 1st in the year 1994, eleven days after the devastating Bloody Battle of Hogwarts, a memorial was erected on the grounds of the esteemed school. The sun shone down on the Hogwarts grounds, casting a golden glow over the iron gates that now led to a place of remembrance.

The new memorial now stood where Severus Snape had bravely given his life and Harry Potter had finally vanquished the Dark Lord for good. The structure was made of stark white marble pillars, each one bearing the names of over two thousand fallen individuals who had lost their lives during Voldemort's tyrannical reign. Wizards, witches, house elves, giants, goblins, centaurs - all were represented among the rows of names etched into the pristine stone. Even one ghost, who had fought valiantly alongside their living comrades, was given a place of honor on the memorial. It was a haunting reminder of the price paid for freedom and justice.

After the somber memorial service had concluded, the remaining staff of Hogwarts gathered in a mostly intact staff room to mourn, finding solace in each other's company and shared grief. Bottles of firewhiskey were passed around, their contents serving as a temporary numbing agent for the pain and loss they all felt. As they discussed plans for repairing and restarting the beloved school, their voices were hushed and filled with determination.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the corridors outside. Most of the refugees had already left Hogwarts, but there were still some who had nowhere else to go and remained within its walls, helping with reconstruction efforts and seeking shelter within its walls, protected by hastily reconstructed wards.

"A teacher's duty is never truly done," Filius lamented with a heavy sigh, before rising from his seat to investigate the source of the disturbance. Despite the weight of their sorrow, they all knew that their duty to protect and guide their students would never end, even in times of tragedy. With heavy footsteps, he made his way toward the source of the disturbance, wondering what trouble could be brewing on such a solemn day. 

Pomona and Poppy, their feet shuffling against the cold stones of the castle hallway, followed Filius with a mix of curiosity and concern. But once they turned the corner and entered the long corridor, Filius seemed to have frozen in place. His gaze was fixed down the hall, his eyes wide with shock.

Poppy's first thought was that someone had hexed Filius, her wand already in hand as she rushed forward to check on him. But then Pomona let out a gasp from behind her, and Poppy looked up to see what had caught her attention.

In the middle of the corridor hovered two translucent figures, one larger than the other. The sound of scolding filled the air, spoken in achingly familiar dulcet tones. Both apparitions floated a few centimeters above the floor, their hazy forms flickering with each word spoken.

“What were you thinking?! You know the immense danger of completely burning out what little magic you have,” Ghostly Severus Snape lectured a guilty-looking 7-year-old Harry Potter. His voice was laced with concern and fear, for he knew the consequences of such reckless actions. But as Harry stared up at him with his big, innocent puppy dog eyes and trembling lip, Severus seemed to visibly soften, his resolve crumbling to dust. Severus pulled Harry into a firm hug, filled with worry and love.

Filius, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of sadness and admiration, regained his composure and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Severus and Harry. “It is so wonderful to see you both,” he said quietly, though there was a hint of sadness in his tone.

Unexpectedly, Severus smiled - a genuine smile that Filius couldn't remember ever seeing on his face before. It was a smile free of burden and duty, open and unreserved. It lit up his features and softened the lines of worry that usually etched themselves onto his face. For a moment, Filius saw the carefree boy that Severus once was, before the weight of the wizarding world came crashing down on him. It was a smile that brought warmth to Filius' heart.

“Do not mourn me, my dear friends. I am exactly where I am meant to be,” Severus said with a gentle smile, his eyes glinting with mischief as he ruffled Harry's hair. The little boy beamed up at him, filled with joy and warmth in the presence of his father figure.

Pomona nodded sagely, her wise gaze taking in the scene before her. "I expect this is how it was always meant to be," she said softly.

A happy sigh escaped Poppy's lips as she watched the tender interaction between Severus and Harry. "Even ghost kids need their parents, I suspect," she observed with a smile.

Severus rolled his eyes playfully at the teasing from his colleagues. "You don't want to know what Lily threatened to do to me if I didn't return," he joked, making the professors chuckle.

"Welcome home, dear Severus and Harry," Filius greeted them both with a warm nod, his eyes shining with genuine joy. They were finally home and most importantly, they had each other.

After a year of repair and rebuilding, Hogwarts finally reopened its doors to students in September of 1995. The once grand castle now stood tall and proud, ready to welcome back its eager young learners. However, for many students, it was their first time setting foot inside the magnificent walls as they had missed almost three years of schooling due to the darkness that plagued the wizarding world. To make up for lost time, an extravagant opening feast was held, with sorting delayed until every student could be tested and placed in their appropriate year.

The Great Hall was buzzing with chatter and excitement, but among the sea of unfamiliar faces sat one well-known figure - Harry Potter, smiling and chatting with his friends as if the war never happened. At the staff table, one ghostly figure could be seen - Severus Snape, who had adamantly refused to join the ranks of Hogwarts' ghostly professors. Instead, he remained the steadfast Head of Slytherin House, determined to protect his beloved snakes from anyone else's misguided influence. As the night wore on and the festivities continued, the future seemed bright for Hogwarts once again.

It was chaos. It was wonderful.

Severus felt his heart swell with joy and contentment, a feeling he had never experienced before. And beside him, Harry wore a similar expression - one of pure happiness and peace. As they gazed at each other, they both knew that this was where they belonged: Hogwarts, with each other. 

Even as the oldest ghosts finally found peace and moved on, Harry and Severus remained at Hogwarts, basking in the happiness that enveloped them. They had found their purpose in helping these lost souls find peace and closure.

Filius, true to his word, made sure that their story was told every year on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. But for Harry and Severus, it didn't matter much. They were too busy living in the present, in their eternal bond as father and son.

The halls of Hogwarts became a sanctuary for them - a place filled with love and memories of their shared journey. The fragrant scent of old books mingled with the comforting aroma of brewing potions, creating an atmosphere that felt like home. And even as time passed and new students came and went, Harry and Severus remained constant figures, dedicated to their duty of guiding lost spirits to their final rest.

For Harry, having Severus by his side meant more than just having an immortal father figure. It meant having someone who loved him unconditionally and taught him valuable lessons about life, even beyond death. Together, they found solace in their role as keepers of Hogwarts' past, present, and future - always grateful for the chaos and heartache that had led them to this wonderful bond.

It was a beautiful life, full of love and purpose. 

Death and Fate weren’t completely cruel. 

Most of the time anyway. 

The End

Chapter Text

Hello Everyone!!

So this is not a real chapter but I didn't know how else to alert everyone who had read and loved this story.

So today, June 13, 2024. I updated all 9 chapters of Mourning Dove.

The story line is the same, there is 6,000 new words, and it is a little less clunky to read. My writing has changed quite a bit over the last 3 years so I'm editing some of my older stories so they match the quality of my newer works.

I still adore this short story 3 years later, it was so enjoyable to read through it again. I think it's my favorite story I have ever written.

I really hope everyone enjoys the updated version. I still read every comment I receive on this fic and it always makes me smile when someone says I made them cry.

Love you all.

-MusicalSurge

Thoughts? Opinions? Comments? Concerns?

You can reach me at all of these places:

MusicalSurge FanFic Stories on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/3011764922457929

My Discord Server - https://discord.com/invite/nV5FrWTrgG

Or I even made an e-mail just for my writing stuff since my PMs don't tend to work on any of the websites I write on - [email protected]

I always welcome anyone who wants to chat or connect. I welcome all idea requests and collab requests, and of course, I would be honored for any artist who wants to create fan art. I welcome any translations as long as they are properly linked back to the original story.

No beta as usual.

<3