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The Curse

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"You need to leave England. Today." Severus looked solemn.

"Why?" Harry frowned.

"The Dark Lord has cast a curse that gives you less than twenty-four hours to live," Severus explained.

Harry gaped at him.

"The curse is powerful, but only in proximity. If you leave England, you should survive," Severus went on.

"But... my friends!" Harry protested.

"The curse is specific to you. No one else will be affected."

Harry frowned. "How long do I have to stay away?"

Severus shrugged. "That is something we have debated. The consensus is at least three years. Or if the Dark Lord dies."


"We're still searching for Horcruxes!" Harry protested. "Until we find them all, he can't die."

"I know there is one in your scar." Severus stepped forward and gently brushed a finger against the scar on Harry's forehead.

Harry leaned into the touch. "Come with me!"

Severus stepped back. "I cannot. He is insane and I seem to be one of the few who can keep him from doing irreparable harm against Magic."

"Where should I go?"

"Far. To America, is my recommendation. The Goblins can help you get to France today and then arrange immediate travel to America," Severus advised.


Before Severus could move, Harry rushed forward to envelop him in an awkward embrace.

"Harry. You must go."

"I know, I know," Harry said into his shoulder. Severus could not resist wrapping his arms around Harry.

"Brat." Severus held him tight for a long moment. "Now go!"

"I will pass messages through the Bank," Harry promised.

"Once you're safe, ask the Goblins they can remove the Horcrux," Severus suggested. "You need to eliminate that tie to him."

"I will," Harry promised. "Farewell!"

Harry turned on his heel.

Severus whispered in the wind. "May Magic protect my soul mate, my love."