A/N I'm so sorry for the ginormous wait... I just lost motivation, inspiration, and imagination at the same time, and now they're back! I was also away for the summer, with really bad internet access.
A slightly raspy voice came from Harry's mouth, as if he had't had anything to drink in a while, which of course was true, and echoed around the cold room, making it seem even louder and more powerful. Severus was nearly sure that it must be an almighty being, like Merlin, or the Moon Mother, communicating through Harry.
His greasy hair whipped around as he snapped his head towards Harry, who was now floating around 1m 30cm off the ground, head lolled back, looking like a possessed puppet. He was also glowing an eerie dark light, like a shrouding him like a black cloak of darkness.
"Abandoned, lonely, rejected, accused
Guilty, lied to, ignored and abused.
Unheard, Unloved, Unknown, Unwanted,
Spirit depressed, green eyes haunted.
He tried to deal with the emotions alone,
But he simply could not manage on his own.
All these feelings, the powerlessness, the pain
He tried to be loved and wanted, in vain."
Harry's body shifted into a large canine looking form, before snapping back into human form in the blink of an eye, shocking Severus and McGonagall. But Dumbledore, who should have reacted to the sudden change of shape, remained uncharacteristically impassive.
"His only family, his Uncle, cousin, and Aunt.
Did not love him, but only beat, hate and taunt.
His true parents, ones he'd love,
Reside in the bright skies above."
Now Severus was looking positively green. He had his suspicions about Harry being abused, but now he knew for sure, and he would have to do something about it. And soon. But Dumbledore had that thrice-damned twinkle in his eyes, only Salazar knows why. 'He just saw the Potter boy lying dead in my storage room, then rise back to life, and declare that he was being abused by his relatives. Why is the old coot not worried?! I thought Harry was his favourite student...'
"This is the work of the Defier of Death
Who should have long ago taken his last breath.
He was destroyed by Harry James Potter
Master of Sky, Fire, Earth and Water."
Now all three Professors saw a flash of scales filling the space around them as Harry transformed again. A millisecond later Harry's human shape was floating where it was before.
"It was believed to be wards
Placed by his Mother
But in truth, it was just Harry, Elemental Master,
And no other
Blessed with ancient powers
Of Sky's Touch and Fire's Flower
Of Earth's Nature and Water's Shower
Before his power, all will cower!"
Severus' obsidian eyes widened as he processed exactly what the otherworldly voice declared. In the whole history of the Wizarding world, only around two or three Elemental Masters have been born, and apparently Harry was one of the very few, and the only one in the past few centuries.
Severus sneaked another glance at the other two Professors, trying to determine how they accepted the news.
Minerva looked positively shaken, a few tears of shock sliding down her face, but otherwise she remained quite composed, seeing as this was her favourite student rising for the dead.. But still, she gave away more than Dumbledore, whose eyes were still twinkling in that over-happy way, which was just a tiny bit too happy for Severus. Harry continued speaking, just as the Potions Master turned his attention back to him.
"He will never feel powerless again
Never will he feel guilty for the slain
He will brave the pain,
Harry, Elemental Master, Lives Again!"
A feathery mass took up the rather small storage room as Harry transformed again, but blinking back into human form as suddenly as it had before. 'I must stop calling him Harry.'
"But before he uses the talent
And before he learns to shift
He must study and learn
How to use this special gift
He will study with his mentor
Who will teach him wisdom, cunning and control
Who will love him like a father would a son
Who will care for Harry's broken soul."
In all of his years as a spy, Severus has never seen something like what he witnessed today, and he hoped he will never have to mere thought of someone coming back to the living from the land of the dead caused a twinge of fear to run through his heart, which he had, despite many rumours.
'What would The Dark Lord do if he found out that Harry Potter, his rival and arch enemy for the past 15 years, suddenly died for a night and came back to life?
The lithe form crumpled to the floor just as it finished it's confusing message, it's limbs bending at near impossible angles, as if they had no bones. This made Severus recall that time in Har-POTTER'S- second year, when that dunderheaded moronic idiot Lockheart removed all the bones in Potter's right forearm.
Severus contemplated all of this while he watched Minerva stumble slightly over her long emerald robes on her way toHa- Potter's- corpse- no, body, as colour was slowly seeping back into the pale cheeks of the boy, who was now clearly unconcious.
Severus noted that Dumbledore still had that same amused expression and his eyes were suppressing twinkles. He didn't understand what was wrong with the man; his favourite student just died, then came back to life, while giving a confusing message from what Severus supposed could have been some higher force or deity, about the abuse he recieved at the hands of his 'relatives'. Severus was too exhausted with the happenings of today to find a better word to describe those filthy swines.
He watched with an impassive gaze at Minerva, who seemed to be struggling with carrying the boy, who despite his frail build, was probab;y quite heavy for the elderly witch. The fridge-like room they were in gave off an incredible echo, he noted, as his shoes made tapping sounds as he walked over to Minerva, and took the boy from her. She looked very grateful. Not that it made Severus feel any kinder.
He tried to be as gentle as possible in swinging the boy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but noticed that he probably didn't suceed, as the boy's face scrunched up in pain, even though he was still unconcious.
Walking to the nearest guest room, he discreetly used wandless magic to give it a quick clean, seeing as it hadn't been used in quite a while. Minerva and the ever-jovial Headmaster followed behind him, Albus' face probably full of billowing robes. Severus smirked. Now that was a thing that made his steel heart feel slightly warmer. It annoyed him to no end that he got no reaction from the old man, except a few amused smiles and the goddamn twinkles in his eyes. It was definitely not what he was aiming for.
The coal-black eyes softened slightly as he noticed his own unconcoius effort to put the small boy on the bed more gently than he'd carried him; he put it all down to the fact that this was one of his better guest rooms, with better quality sheets and covers. He did not have an unconcious urge to make the boy feel comfortable. Definitely not.
Tucking the petit Gryffindor in gently, another weird thing that he noticed about himself today. Backing out of teh room, he stole a glance at his two colleagues, noting that one looked worn out and worried, while the other making small shuffling motions towards the door, still smiling happily.
He sighed. "Seeing as the Headmaster here seems to be quite eager to get away, and you Minerva look quite exhausted yourself, I suggest that we discuss this matter at another time" He made a dissmisive motion with his hand, and turned back towards the fireplace.
"Well we're off then, Severus, my dear boy, we'll see you tomorrow at breakfast" With that the Headmaster skipped out of the room, eyes twinkling so madly and brightly that he could probably blind someone if he looked them straight in the eye.
Minerva left behind the Headmaster without a word, just a small sigh, and shut the door quietly behind her. Severus renewed the wards on his quaters, and standing in the middle of his living room, looking quite lost, before he decided that he definitely needed a drink. And lots of it.
Stumbling slightly, which was another unusual happening, Severus made his way to his liquor cabinet, unlocked it, and grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey, which looked like a godsend at the moment. His brown leather armchair creaked a little as he collapsed into it, putting his head into his hands, his greasy hair falling into his eyes, and the bottle of Firewhiskey sitting snugly in the crook of his elbow glinted brightly against the flames from the fireplace.
A/N I also want to say that the whole prophecy in this chapter is really bad in my opinion.