Chapter 31

Harry stumbled forward with his chains dragging through the luminous soil of the fae realm. Sweat dripped down his face, and his stomach churned from the raw magic in the air. He hadn't spoken back to Oberon after that beating. The fae had threatened to cut out his tongue since he only needed to breathe to serve a purpose, and Harry particularly liked his tongue. It was good for several things, including making his husband scream.

With every passing meter, the ambient magic of the fae realm pressed against his skin like hot, heavy wool. He didn't know how long they had been walking, but he feebly lifted his left hand and focused on the armband Nimue had given him. A second bead had blackened, and black veins started to form on a third bead. Every time a bead blackened, a wave of nausea hit him. Behind him, the pawns fared much worse. Ron was moving like a puppet with frayed strings, his eyes wide and glassy, staring unseeingly ahead. Another wizard from their ranks had suddenly collapsed. From his nose and eyes, blood seeped into the soil. Oberon didn't even look back as they left the dying man behind.

At first, Harry thought it was the wind rustling through the luminous trees. Then, the rustling turned into syllables.

"Look at the little bird..." a voice giggled right in his ear. Harry turned to look around frantically, though no one was there.

"He thinks Severus is coming," a deeper, mocking voice whispered. "Severus forgot you, Harry. Left you for the dead."

"Your wizard magic is worthless here. Drown, Harry. Just lie down and drown."

The voices began to twist his thoughts, pulling up old, buried insecurities. He saw flashes of James berating him for not being good enough. But most cruelly, a perfect imitation of Severus's voice whispered in his ear: "An arrogant, disappointing boy. Just like your father. Why did I ever marry such a cretin?"

'No,' Harry thought, biting his lip until it bled. "Severus wouldn't say that. He's coming." He said aloud, which earned him a glare from Oberon.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his focus entirely down to his left wrist. The terrifying whispers of the forest still reached him, but they sounded slightly muffled now, like voices shouting from underwater. The armband seemed to be absorbing the brunt of it and was sparing him from possibly immediate insanity. The same could not be said for Ron.

Without the protection, the youngest Weasley brother had become a sponge for the malicious, volatile magic in the air. They had just reached what appeared to be the outskirts of the Fire Fae Kingdom, if Oberon's satisfied grumble was anything to go by.

"I am!" Ron suddenly screamed. His voice was raw, and all eyes, even Oberon's, turned towards the redhead.

Ron didn't even seem to realize where he was. He yanked at his hair, and blood was pouring freely from his eyes and ears, tracking dark paths down his cheeks.

"I'm good enough!" Ron shrieked into the empty air, breathing heavily. "I'm just as good as them! I'm as dependable as Bill! I'm as brave as Charlie! You don't know anything!"

"Ron, stop! Don't listen to them!" Harry tried when he realized it was the voices that had gotten to him.

He was entirely gone, staring up at the sky with dilated pupils "I could be as influential as Ginny... I'm a Gryffindor! I'm not the leftover! I'm not the mistake! I can do things Fred and George never could! Look at me! Look at me!"

Then, just as abruptly as the outburst had begun, Ron stopped. The shouting cut off into an absolute silence. His arms dropped heavily to his sides. And then he fell forward like a hollowed-out husk of a man, empty of a soul and thoughts.

Oberon walked on. He did not even spare the body a glance.

"Leave him," he ordered, and Harry's head snapped up.

"You bastard," Harry whispered.

Oberon stopped. Slowly, he turned. "Do you mourn him, little king? How sentimental. He betrayed you. He helped bring you here. He would have handed you to me in pieces if I had asked. Now walk."

Elsewhere in the fae realm, a portal appeared. Nimue stepped through first. She emerged barefoot onto a circle of pale stones. The moment her feet touched the soil, the stones lit up slightly.

Magdalena followed. For a moment, she stood utterly still, then she inhaled sharply.

"Mags?" Nimue asked.

"I forgot how loud it is," Magdalena said while referring to the raw magic surrounding them.

Severus Snape staggered through the portal behind them. He did not fall. That was purely because the Potion master would sooner insult gravity than give it the satisfaction. But he came close.

The moment his boots touched fae soil, the realm struck his mind. It was nothing like Legilimency. Legilimency had direction. Intent. This was worse.

His breath caught as the magic in the air pressed against him. It whispered Lily's name. It showed him, Harry, at eleven being dragged from the Slytherin dormitory while Severus stood petrified and helpless.

Severus's hand flew to his temple.

"Severus," Magdalena said quietly.

"I am fine," he snapped.

"No, you are not. Your mind is built like a fortress, but this place is not attacking the gates. It is growing through the stone." Nimue stated.

Severus drew a slow breath as his Occlumency shields rose on instinct: A maze of black walls and smooth corridors with locked doors. The structure had served him for decades. It had kept out the Dark Lord, Albus, and Ministry interrogators.

"Human Occlumency is too rigid here."

"Then explain," Severus bit out.

"You cannot wall the realm out," Magdalena said quietly. "Not entirely. Mortal minds reject this place because they try to define it. The fae realm punishes definition. That is how Queen Titania structured this forest."

Nimue stepped closer. "Your shields are stone. Stone cracks when roots grow through it. Make them water."

"I am not a lake witch."

"No," Nimue said. "You are an incredibly stubborn human with a mind sharp enough to cut himself on. So adapt."

Severus wanted to sneer. He wanted to tell them both that he had not survived Voldemort by becoming fluid. He had survived by becoming impenetrable by making himself a locked room inside a locked room inside a locked room.

But then the realm whispered with Harry's voice. Severus's breath caught before he could stop it.

Magdalena stepped into his line of sight. "That is not Harry."

"I know."

"Do you?"

Severus glared at her, but she did not flinch.

"Sevvie, listen to me. This realm will use truth to lie. That is how it breaks mortals. It will not invent from nothing. It will take what you fear and dress it in familiar voices." Nimue stated. "Titania is cruel like that. She designed this forest as a first line of defense for the fae realm, and we have never so much needed the other defenses because no mortal has made it out of this forest alive, without assistance that is."

"Tell me how," he said after taking a breath.

"Do not imagine a wall. Imagine ink in water. Your thoughts are the ink. Let them move. Let the realm touch the surface, but give it nothing fixed to grip."

Severus closed his eyes again. The fortress in his mind stood tall and black. He hated what he had to do next. He opened the gates and shuddered when the magic surged forward.

For one horrifying instant, memory and fear flooded him. Severus almost drowned. Then he changed the shape of his mind.

Severus opened his eyes. The whispers had dulled.

Nimue stared at him. "Well. That was unnervingly fast," she said.

"I am motivated."

"Clearly."

Magdalena looked toward the east, "Oberon is taking him toward Hephaera's court. If we use the Luminous caves, we can cut him off before he reaches the gates."

"Of course he is. He thinks the crown is in her castle." Nimue stated.

"Is it?" Severus asked.

"Do I look stupid?" Nimue looked offended.

"No comment."

Severus stepped off the stone circle. The grass bent away from his boots. He noticed it and filed the detail away. The realm did not like him. He considered the feeling was mutual.

Nimue fell in stride beside Severus as they walked. "A word of advice. Do not answer anything that speaks from the trees."

"I had not intended to converse with shrubbery."

"Good. Also, if a flower offers you a bargain, burn it."

"That was already my plan. Talking flora is suspicious enough."

"And if you see Harry, but he asks you to step off the path, stab him."

Severus's head turned slowly at that.

Nimue held up both hands. "Not the real Harry. Obviously. Probably. The forest creates lures. Loved ones, regrets, enemies. Anything to draw travelers off the safe ways."