Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1059423.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Tales_of_Vesperia
  Relationship:
      Yuri_Lowell/Flynn_Scifo
  Character:
      Yuri_Lowell, Flynn_Scifo
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Prostitution
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-26 Words: 9495
****** Home ******
by OniZenmaru
Summary
     I'm a complete piece of trash...and yet this dumbass still won't
     leave my side... Flynn/Yuri, Yuri/Flynn
Taking another drag off my cigarette, my face twists in disgust as another loud
moan comes from the other side of the door. This motel sucks ass, but it's
cheap and the owner doesn't ask questions as long as you pay. The worn, red
colored carpet I sit on smells likes piss and drunken nights, and the fact that
I've grown accustomed to the smell is a reminder of just how much I fucked up.
Shit wasn't supposed to go down like this...or rather, shit wasn't supposed to
go down like this for him. My life was already in the shitter, and the last
thing I wanted was to bring someone down to my level. It might sound like I'm
being a selfish prick, but it wasn't my fault, really. I'll take partial blame
since I'm a shitty ass person, but not all of it. If I were a better person,
I'd take all of it.
As the motel door opens up, I put my cigarette out on the wall, figuring the
mark would just blend in with the others. My back cracks as I stand and
stretch, though I wasn't expecting anything less since I've been in the same
position for an hour. A greasy looking man walks out while trying his best to
tuck his shirt into his pants, and before he can even take two steps away from
the door, I make sure he pays up. Our services aren't free. I watch carefully
as he reaches into his pocket, my fingers gripping the picket knife in my own
just in case.
The guy didn't look like he'd do anything, but that's a chance I'm not willing
to take. I only relax when I see green, though I can't believe this fucker has
the balls to offer up advice as he hands me two fifties. 'You two shouldn't be
doing this', 'you two should be home', 'what would your parents think?' blah,
blah, blah. The last person I want preaching to me is one that just fucked a
seventeen-year-old up the ass. I make no effort to hide my laughter, because
this shit is hilarious.
"Fuck off," I spit out while snatching the bills away, and the guy gives me a
weird look as I do so.
Like they all do, as soon as I mention the cops he scurries away, and I don't
move from my spot until I see him round the corner at the end of hall. I light
up another cigarette before stepping into the room, the smell of sex hitting me
hard. It no longer bothers me. I take a deep, long drag while walking over to
the bed; though to be honest, I'd rather have a stiff drink because this shit
never gets easier. I don't say a damn thing as I crouch down at the edge of the
bed, my slender fingers coming to rack long bangs out of my face.
All I see is a tuff of vibrant hair peeking out from under the dingy blanket,
and like always I mutter a small 'you fucking dumbass' under my breath while
staring. When the lump on the bed stirs, I take another drag, because if
something isn't in my mouth, I'm bound to say something I shouldn't right to
his face. I know he could take it, that isn't the problem. My problem is ifI
can take it, because I have the bad habit of saying shit that makes me wanna
kick myself in the balls.
Exhaling, my gray eyes meet baby-blues, and I find it disgustingly mesmerizing
that someone can have eyes that blue. Shit, everything about him is so goddamn
bright, and it makes me sick. Something that bright doesn't belong here. I
wanna tell him to stop when he reaches over, thumb coming over to caress my
cheek, because trash like me didn't deserve such a gently touch. Trash like me
shouldn't even be allowed around someone so radiant.
"Hey." His voice is horse, but it doesn't stop him from smiling at be.
"Come on..." I dart my eyes in every direction but his, because I really don't
deserve that smile.
I put my cigarette out on the ashtray near the bed, my now free hands moving
across his shoulders to help him get out of bed. He's a damn mess, but I
expected no less. He doesn't hide his limp, though he probably can't at this
point. You don't get fucked for an hour and walk away scot-free. Once in the
bathroom I run the water in the tub, but it takes a minute for it to get warm.
For the time being I slowly sit the blond down on the toilet seat, hating the
sound of him hissing as he's lowered. I try not to look at his naked body, not
wanting to see the hickies I know riddle his slightly tanned skin.
"Yuri..." He calls my name, and like a fucking dog I am I obediently look at
him, "I'm okay."
Fuck him...fuck him straight to Hell because that's the biggest crock of shit
I've ever heard. I snort, body moving forward before I can even think about.
Placing my hands on the back of the toilet, I lean forward, mere inches away
from his face as I smirk.
"Maybe I should fuck you right now to prove that you're not," It's a fucked up
thing to say, especially after what he's been through, but I wouldn't be a
shitty person without shitty comments.
He doesn't break eye contact and it's unnerving as Hell, but I don't back down,
because we're both stubborn sons of bitches who never did whenever we felt
challenged. I barely notice his hand coming up until it grips the back of his
head, the blond pushing me forward until our lips crush together. I kiss him
just as hard, tongue slipping into his mouth as I hold his face with both of my
hands. He tastes like dirty cock, and even though I'm accustomed to the flavor,
the fact that it's on his lips makes me sick to my stomach.
Quickly parting, I pant against his open mouth, tongue darting out to lick his
swollen lips before going back for more. I growl as he pulls me down on his
lap, though I don't miss the small hiss he makes as I sit on his lap. I wanna
move away so he'd be comfortable, but his arm snakes around my waist to prevent
any kind of escape. I mutter a 'bastard' as we pull apart for air, but when he
grabs my ass, I whine like a bitch.
I keep myself sane enough to stop this before we can go any further, because I
had helped the blond asshole into the bathroom so he could get clean, not so he
could fuck me into the tiles.
"Wash your ass and maybe then we'll have some fun of our own." I say while
removing myself from his lap, the blond's hand attaching to my wrist before I
can even look at the door.
"I might need some help."
"I don't wanna wipe cum off your ass, Flynn. In fact, I'd rather be the one
putting it there."
He laughs at my terrible comment, and it makes me smile. That laugh always
makes me momentarily forget about how much I had failed to do something so damn
simple. Slipping out of the poorly lit bathroom, I close the door behind me,
back leaning against it as soon as I hear the 'click'. I only move from my spot
the moment I hear Flynn's body hit the water, and as I sit on the edge of the
bed, I fish out the bills in my pocket.
Adding the money I made throughout the week, we have well over $150, enough to
buy a few necessities like food, a trip to the Laundromat, and of course more
condoms. I don't worry about paying for a few more nights at the motel; the
last couple of days I've noticed an increase of police in the area, so it's
probably best if we find some place in the next town to stay until things
around here die down. A month or two might be enough time.
I groan aloud, fingers coming to rub my right temple because fuck, this is
frustrating as Hell. But at least we have money. I light up another cigarette
before lying back on the bed, my arm coming to rest across my eyes. The bed
sheets smells musty as Hell, and I make a mental note to wash them since the
owner damn well wasn't going to do so. The room is mostly silent, save for the
pipes rattling against the wall, but that isn't enough.
If I weren't so damn lazy I'd get my ass up and turn on the TV, but that's too
much effort despite my need to drown out my thoughts. When I'm alone with my
thoughts, I feel like shit, because when I'm alone I'm far more honest with
myself. Maybe it's a good thing I keep reminding myself that I'm a piece of
shit, lest I get disillusioned and think there's a brighter future awaiting me
Trash will always be trash.
A little later the bed dips, but I don't remove the arm blocking my view until
I feel the cigarette between my lips get plucked away. I watch while the blond,
now clad only in a towel around his waist, puts the half lit stick on the
ashtray nearby. He leans down and buries his face in the crock of my neck, and
all I can smell is cheap soup as I run my fingers through his damp hair.
"You should quit." Flynn says, nuzzling against my neck in a slow manner that
reminds me of a dog trying to get attention.
"You only live once, Blondie, and I'd like to have control over at least one of
the ways I kick the bucket." I can feel him giving me some kind of look, and
I'm sure he's trying to think of some fancy way of saying 'I don't want you to
die'.
"...If you want, I could be the one to kill you."
I don't mean to laugh as hard as I do, but holy shit, where did he pull that
from? Turning my head I tell him that he's 'tragically romantic', and the
annoyed look he gives me is almost enough to send me into another laughing fit.
Before he tells me he really meant what he said, I flip him onto his back,
straddling his waist so I can look down at him. From up here I can see the
various marks on his body, peppering his chest and I'm sure if I look down I
can see more along his inner tights.
Running my fingers down his chest, nails digging into flesh slightly, I swoop
down and drink up the whimpers he gives off. Warm hands make their way under my
ratty, long-sleeved shirt, and I shake slightly as his fingers gently brush my
sides. They lift my shirt up my waist, over my chest and because I can care
less about the damn thing, I toss it over my shoulder without a care. I don't
waste a second latching back onto Flynn's lips.
With quick nip at the blond's bottom lip, he opens up, allowing my tongue to
brush against his. I try to make quick work of my pants, but with me straddling
him, it's a little difficult but nothing I can't handle. I grind my still
boxers clad thighs against his, and the moan he gives off is so delicious that
I do it again. The hands that were on my hips move onto my back, and I groan as
dull nails gently dig into skin. I know the red streaks they make would only
last till morning.
It's fine though, because in this moment Flynn is mine and the marks are proof
of that.
"Shit..." I curse under my breath when we part, because the hands that had been
on my back have now slipped under my boxers.
Flynn kneads my cheeks, spreading me wide, and I don't hold back as I moan into
his neck, hips once again rubbing against his. When I fuck for money, I try my
damn hardest to hold back my voice unless I'm specifically asked to moan,
because most of those fuckers complain about it otherwise. With Flynn, I throw
all caution to wind and moan to my heart's content, and sometimes I actually
beg for more.
The sound of a cap popping open causes my body to shake, and to help out I slip
my boxers off so the blond can get to my hole quicker. This needs to be quick,
because I know Flynn is tired despite him not saying that he is. Maybe another
day we can take it slow. So as his finger rubs again my hole slowly, I push
back against it, making it clear that we don't have time for that. The bastard
is a big ass tease, so if I don't stop him early he'd probably play with my
hole without actually penetrating it.
The first finger hurts, it always does, and I hiss into his neck as a result.
Fuck...I should be used to having things in my ass by now. The only thing I can
do now is wait, and even if I'm not the most patient person, I clinch my teeth
and bear with it. The burn is still there by the time a second finger slips
inside of me, and I curse aloud as the both of them stretch me further. Shit,
this feels so goddamn good, and the moment the pain fades a bit I move against
those digits.
My hips grid harder against Flynn's, annoyed that the blond's damn towel is
preventing skin on skin contact. I wanna feel his cock against mine, I wanna
rub against him like a goddamn animal in heat until we jizz all over each
other...but I hold that urge back. When Flynn grazes that bundle of nerves
inside of me, I have to reach back and grab his hand, stopping his movements so
I can compose myself.
"T-That's...shit, that's enough..." I groan out while my free hand grips the
sheets near Flynn's head, and I swear if he moves his fingers against that spot
again I'll punch him.
Thankfully, he removes his hand, and before he can grab the bottle of lube
again, I press him against mattress and tell him not to move. We're in this
position because I don't want this dumbass moving his hips too much, but
because I still wanna get fucked this is the best option. Snatching the bottle
of lube off the bed, I remove the towel that has been pissing me off for so
long, quickly slicking the blond's dick up because I can't wait anymore.
I try to go slow, but as I inch his thick cock inside of me, all I want to do
is slam the damn thing into me. I'm not stupid enough to do it, but I can't
deny that the urge is there. Leaning forward, I press my forehead against his
chest, breath coming out in hard pants while I adjust to the feeling. If I were
with anyone else, I wouldn't get to have a moment like this since those fuckers
only cared about getting their money's worth.
Sitting up slowly, my hands pressing against Flynn's chest, I test the waters a
bit. The pain I feel while moving my ass isn't all that bad, but still enough
that I hiss into the air. My body goes tense when Flynn's hands rest on my
hips, his thumbs rubbing gentle circle on my skin as he our eyes meet. I don't
deserve the sweet smile he gives me, and if this had been a different situation
I would've simply looked away. Not this time, not when his disgustingly blue
eyes are half-lid, looking up with me with so much need that I want to flip him
over and ram my cock into his ass.
Instead, I move faster, watching his face contort as I tighten around his cock.
He moans out my name and fuck...it sounds so sweet to my ears. I rid him hard,
listening to his delicious cries of 'oh god' and 'please, Yuri'. The power trip
I'm having makes me drunk, and I'm loving every second of it. The look on his
face tells me that he's close, and quite frankly I hadn't expected him to last
long anyways. It only takes a few good rocks for the blond to grab my hips to
keep me in place, my body shaking as his cum shoots into me.
But just because he gets off doesn't mean I do, so while Flynn pants heavily
against the mattress I jerk off to the sight of it. My strokes are quick, thumb
running over the slit of my cock every now and then just the way I like it.
When Flynn calls my name again, I completely lose it, and I can't help but feel
slightly pathetic because of it. Pressing my forehead against his shoulder, I
spill out all over his stomach, a few strangled swears leaving my mouth as I
ride the feeling out.
"I love you..." Flynn mutters, and all I can do is tense up against him.
He always says that after we fuck, and I always tell him the same thing...
"Shut up and go to sleep..."
===============================================================================
Sometimes I feel like laughing at this shitty situation, because never once did
I think the oh-so diligent Flynn Scifo would latch onto me and refuse to let
go.
I knew of the blond prior to entering high school, because you really don't
live in a small ass town andnotknow someone. Flynn had been the biggest walking
stereotype for a popular kid growing up in a small town: he was one of the top
students in the school, friendly with everyone he spoke to, captain of the
basketball team and was pretty much the wet dream of every girl teenage girl.
I'm still not sure if he was aware of the last one...
I know it was childish of me, but I simply hated him because everyone else
loved him. Being 14 gave me an excuse for being a petty, immature asshole, but
even back then, I knew my behavior was bullshit. We first spoke when the blond
caught me smoking behind the school, and being the snarky bastard I was, I
asked him if he was going to narc me out. He stared at me for a good while
before saying no, but before leaving, he told me I should quit for my heath.
The second time we spoke was during our sophomore year, and it was the day
after he had caught me being fucked by one of the guys on the football team. My
back was pressed up against a wall as the burly bastard pounded into me, but
the only thing I could focus on was the blond peeking in from the locker room
doors. His look of shock hadn't melted into one of disgust or even horror, oh
no, Flynn had looked downright curious.
It was weird and a slight turn on, and I'm a little ashamed to admit that
Flynn's curious look was probably the only thing that got me off.
The next day, he sat across from me at lunch but didn't say anything. It took a
good three minute for my patients to snap, and I tell him to 'talk or walk'.
The first thing out of his mouth was that he wouldn't rat me out, and I
actually hadn't expected him to. The second thing he said to me was that he
wanted to hang out with me, and it was the first time I had ever seen the boy
look so embarrassed about something. I laughed so hard that I fell off the
bench I was sitting on, but the pain in the back of my head wasn't enough to
make me stop.
Flynn actually waited for me to stop, and I once I composed himself I told him
point-blank that if he wanted to fuck all he needed to do was ask. The offended
look he gave me confused the Hell out of me. Was it wrong of me to assume that
he had wanted to? Not really, especially after he had stayed for pretty much
the entire show the previous day. If he wasn't there for sex, then what else
had he wanted? It's what I asked him, and his response was simply 'I wanted
someone to talk to'.
Looking back, it had been a clear sign that something was up with the blond,
but back then I never bothered to pick up on that kind of stuff. I didn't
really notice that something was off until I got pissed off at him one day; I
wasn't having the best day and end up snapping at him, telling him to 'fuck off
and annoy his other friends', to which he responded with 'I don't have any'. It
was the weirdest fucking thing I've ever heard, because how was it that the
most popular guy in school didn't have friends?
I laughed at the absurdity of it all, and the act caused Flynn to punch the
ever-loving shit out of me. We got into a brawl that hadn't lasted all that
long, but it was enough to leave me with a bloody nose and black eye. We were
both suspended for a day, not that it bothered me much, but I actually hadn't
expected Flynn to show up on my doorstep the next day. My first thought was
'what the fuck?' followed by 'how the Hell did this bastard found my house?'
The first thing out of his mouth was an apology, and because I was a little
shit the only thing that came out of my mouth was a 'yeah, same'. I had to let
him in because it was clear he wasn't going anywhere, the backpack on his
shoulders a clear indicator of that. It was weird having someone from school
over, though Flynn acted as if showing up randomly to someone's house was the
most normal thing in the world.
We spent most of our time on the couch watching TV, and it was awkward as Hell.
It was annoying, and because I wasn't the best kind of person when annoyed, I
kicked him in the side, demanding he tell me why the fuck he wanted to waste
his time with someone he had never bothered with before. His answer was simple
enough; Flynn had found me 'interesting', and he figured that if he hung around
me, the boring, stressful life he was living would change a bit. Back then, I
scoffed at the thought of one of the top students in the school being
'stressed', but I know better now.
It took the rest of our sophomore to figure out how wrong I was, because
goddammit did Flynn work hard...a littletoohard. We only had two classes
together, but it was the most focused I've ever seen anyone. Flynn never let
anything distract him, not even me poking me in the back with the pencil. The
thing that freaked me out the most was whenever Flynn didn't do well on
something, a deep look of dread would wash over his face, one that made me feel
a bit concerned for him.
Whenever that happened, I would invite him over to my place so he could loosen
up a bit. It usually worked...except once. The blond was a complete wreck, and
the usual things like TV, video games and greasy pizza weren't doing the trick.
I don't really know why I believed kissing him would make things better, but I
did, and I half expected him to push me away in disgust. I was only slightly
surprised when he kissed me back, and then I remembered that Flynn was the same
guy that he watched me get fucked for a solid ten minutes in the locker room...
A kiss wasn't going to freak him out.
Our make-out session lasted for a good while, and we only stopped when the
sound of the front door opening then closing reached our ears. I didn't need to
guess who it was. My mother was a real piece of work; from what I've been told,
she had me young and ran my father before I was even born. Too bad for her
since I apparently look just like the man...and I'm sure that's one of the
reasons she absolutely hated me. The other being that she apparently never
wanted kids to begin with, something she reminded me of every time she got the
chance. However, her favorite thing to do was call me trash...
Of course my grandfather, who had pretty much raised me, told me otherwise. He
was so damn kind to me, and I'm sure it was his presence that kept me sane
while living under the same roof as my mother. But it didn't stop me from
thinking that I was a piece of shit, so when Flynn confessed to me during out
junior year, I felt I didn't deserve his affection.
He should've been with someone as bright as he was, someone that actually had
something to offer him. I was just as mediocre student who didn't give a shit
where I ended up in life, who just didn't care enough to really try and better
myself because, well, why should trash even try? I hated the way he said
'you're worth something', because he hadn't just said it to make he feel
better, he had said because he truly meant it. Those sweet words made me
realize just how much the blond truly scared me...no one said those kinds of
things unless they had fallen hard for someone.
We started a weird relationship after that; we'd kiss and fuck, but all the
while I never once said if I felt the same way about him. Whenever he'd bring
it up I'd tell him to 'shut up' or just not to worry about it. Because I was a
goddamn coward I didn't want to face reality that maybe I did actually like
him, that maybe I deserved a little happiness in my life. Flynn always said I
did, but a nagging little voice in the back of my head said I didn't. It was
fucked up, but what more could I do? It was just who I was...
And then shit hit the fan when we started our senior year...My grandfather died
a month after the school year started, and it was so abrupt that at first I was
confused. The old man had been through a war, two divorces, had watched all of
his sibling die and still worked despite the fact that he didn't need to. So to
hear that he was taken out by a random heat-attack angered me. He should've
gone out guns blazing, just...something befitting to someone so goddamn
amazing.
During the funeral, I felt numb; it was frustrating because I thought I
should've cried, I should've yelled at my mom for texting on her phone, I
should've...felt something . But as I watched my grandfather's casket be
lowered into the ground, the only thing I did was stare. I spent a week at home
after that, and Flynn dropped by everyday around the same time. He never
brought up my grandfather or my absence from school, and it kind of pissed me
off. One day I just had enough and lashed out at Flynn, my frustrations boiling
over to the point where I could no longer control myself.
I know it was completely misplaced, but it didn't stop me from incoherently
screaming at him. The blond just sat on my bed and took everything. When I was
done, I was a sobbing mess on the floor, stupidly babbling on about how I
couldn't live in the same house as my mother. It was then that I made the
biggest mistake of my life...I told Flynn I was leaving. I had been saving up
my money from the part time jobs I did on the weekends, and it was just enough
to afford a ticket out of town. Where would I go? I didn't care, I
just...couldn't stay there.
I should've known something was up when Flynn didn't try to stop me or even
bring my leaving up in our conversations the following days...Maybe if I had
understood just how fucked in the head the blond was I could've predicted him
showing at the bus stop, a suitcase in one hand and a small bag in the other.
It took him saying 'I'm coming with you' for me to snap out of my confusion,
and once I did I told him to get his ass back home.
He didn't need to follow someone like me when he had a family that would
actually miss him, but Flynn didn't listen to my pleas. Or rather, my fake
pleas. Every time I told him to leave, there'd be a voice in the back of my
head that said 'please don't go'. I tried to turn that stupid little voice off,
but it knew me too well...knew that I was afraid to be alone in a place I was
unfamiliar with. It was the reason I finally gave up and let the blond come
with me, and I've regretted the decision ever since...
===============================================================================
"Shit..." I mutter, rubbing my hands together because these nights have gotten
colder.
This town has shitty weather, but I can deal with a little cold if it means
less police snooping around. It's been a week since we left that shitty motel,
and the first thing we did was find us an even shittier motel because
fuck...this town was expensive. It was an error on my part, and I'll fix it
when we have the money to do so. But the chill in the air makes finding people
willing to shell out a few bucks for a quick fuck a little hard.
I'm really think we should call it a night, but our funds are low after buying
everything we needed in the last town, and I'd much rather nip this in this ass
before it becomes a problem. Sure, sleeping on the streets was an option, we've
done it before, but I don't know what part of town belongs to what gang or pimp
just yet. The last thing we need is to fuck around and piss someone dangerous
off, because being beaten, killed or becoming some asshole's sex slave wasn't
really up there on my list of things to do.
"You wanna head back?" Flynn says, and from his shifting, I know he's restless.
I almost say yes, and the only thing that stops me from doing so is the car I
see come to a slow stop near the curb we're standing on. The guy driving looks
nervous, and giving what part of town we're in I can assume he's here for one
thing. Perfect. Sometimes it's easy to spot potential clients, because they'd
look this this guy, anxious, out of place and easy. If I put on a little charm,
I could squeeze a lot of money out of this perv because he looks like a damn
sucker. Walking over, I tap on the window twice, the guy inside jumping a bit
before rolling the window down.
"You look lost...unless you're looking for a good time." I say, and even though
I'm smirking, I'm laughing at myself for saying such a terrible line.
"I-I, um...how much for...?" The man says, his head motioning towards his
crotch because it's clear he can't bring himself to say it.
It's enough to make me laugh, but I hold it back since I don't wanna scare the
guy off. I open my mouth to give him his price options only to notice the
stranger glance over my shoulder, and I'd be a fool to not know what he's
looking at. I almost clinch my jaw at the bastard's sudden interest in Flynn,
and a nasty feeling starts to bubble up in my stomach. Just because the blond
can service guys just as well as I can, doesn't mean I like him to. Truthfully,
I'd much rather have him wait for me back at the motel room, but it was just
another thing I had failed to get him to do.
"How about..." I trail off, getting his attention back on me, "I give you a
two-for-one special.
"S-Special?"
"Yeah...how about $40 for the both of us?" I say while trying my best to keep a
straight face.
I'm pissed as Hell, partially because I brought Flynn into this, but mostly
because if I hadn't that blond dumbass would've done so himself. If there was a
chance for us to make more money, Flynn would find a way for us to do so, and
it sometimes involved the two of us sucking off the same guy. I don't like
watching him try and pick up guys for sex, because I'm once again reminded that
I fucked up, that I've failed to make him stop following me around like some
lost puppy. This isn't the life Flynn should be living...
When the guy agree, I motion the blond over so we can get a lift to a less
crowded place. The ride is around three minutes, the car coming to a stop in an
empty parking lot. Not a bad choice. The three of us have to reposition
ourselves in the car, because the front of the car isn't all that spacious for
so many bodies, so we move ourselves to the back. I sit on the left side of the
car while Flynn sits on the right, our client in the middle so the two of us
can easily reach the guy's dick.
In this kind of situation, there's no need for any kind of sweet talk. That
kind of shit takes up time, and I really don't wanna overstay our welcome. So I
fish out a condom from my pocket and rip the wrapper open with my teeth, and
all the while I watch as Flynn undoes the guy's belt. The sound of the blond
pulling down the stranger's fly is loud in the mostly silent car, and I want to
reach over and stop him so badly. When he touches the guy's cock, my fingers
twitch, but I control myself and watch as he starts to strokes the bastard to
full hardness.
It didn't take long.
The condom is slipped on, and the two of us don't waste a single second going
down on our paying customer. Flynn works on the head while I deal with the
shaft and base, my tongue darting out to run itself along warm latex. I can
hear the guy panting above me, but I'm far more interested in the sloppy, wet
sounds Flynn is making. It's a complete turn on, but I make sure to keep my
hands away from my crotch. We could have our own fun once we get back to our
shitty motel room.
Licking upward, I briefly join the blond at the guy's tip, tongue dipping into
his slit before coming to suck on the whole thing. I try not to gag when he
bucks into my mouth, but this guy is thick. Goddamn my gag reflex. I try to
push on, but it's better for me to stick to simply sucking than trying to deep
throat this guy's huge dick. When Flynn tugs on my collar, I duck down, joining
him to lick along the base of the guy's cock.
Our tongues touch and it takes all of my will power not to crush out lips
together, completely forgetting this guy's dick so we can just make out like
there's no tomorrow. I give off a little groan, and by the hand that suddenly
appears on the back of my head, I know the stranger likes it. My left hand is
kept busy by stroking the top half of his cock, while my right comes up to
fondle his balls. I know the fucker is close by the loud 'a-ah, shit' that
slips out of his mouth, and I'm rather grateful because I really wanna get the
Hell out of here.
It's 8 PM, I'm hungry, tried and really need to take a hot shower...so the
sooner this guy cums, the sooner I can do those things. I wince as the hand on
my head grabs a fistful of my hair, though it's when I notice he's done the
same to Flynn that I want to punch the guy in the throat. When he's finally
done shooting his load, I sit up and straighten myself, out, my slender fingers
running through dark hair to make it look somewhat presentable. Aside from our
client's ragged breathing, the car is silent, and I prefer it that way.
There's nothing more embarrassing than having the guy I just sucked off talk to
me about how 'amazing' he thought the job I did was. Rolling down the window, I
remove the now used, sticky condom and toss it out, and as I do so I see Flynn
collect our money. Good, now we have no other reason to be here. We remove
ourselves from the back and watch as the guy gets back into the front seat, and
I lean against the blond as we watch the car quickly speed off.
"Ugh, can we get something to eat now?" I whine while rubbing my cheek against
the blond's shoulder.
"Yes, we can eat now. What are you in the mood for?"
"Something greasy."
He laughs at me, and I smile, and it briefly makes me forget that we had just
sucked a guy off for money. The walk back to the more populated part of town
isn't long, and all the while I poke fun at Flynn for stupid things he's done
in the past and he does the very same thing to me. This is the life we
should've had...just two stupid teenagers talking about nonsense without a care
in the world. But then I just had to fuck up and run away, which would've been
fine if Flynn hadn't brought his dumbass along with me. I don't really hate him
for it, I just... I just wanted something better for him.
Our fingers intertwine as I get a bit closer to him, my mouth opening so I can
say something but I quickly close it. Flynn gives me a look that tells me that
he knows, and Hell, I'm surprised he does since I've never said those three
damn words to him out loud. But at least he knows...We find a hole in the wall
Chinese restaurant to eat at, and even though it's not exactly what I wanted,
the selection is enough to make me overlook that small fact. We order two
dishes each, and Flynn being the carnivore that he is gets something with
barely any vegetables. I'll probably have to force him to eat a few pieces of
my broccoli so he can get some kind of nutrition in his system.
I tease him about it as we wait for our food, and the pout he makes is so
disgustingly adorable that it almost makes me sick. I gently elbow in him in
the side to make him stop, and I snort at the 'so rough' he gives me. I back
him against stained wall behind us, my body leaning in so my lips brush against
his ear ever so slightly. I'm sure we're getting a few stares, but they can
fuck off for all I care. In moments like this, only Flynn and I mattered.
"I'll show you just how rough I can be when we get back to the motel." I say,
voice husky as my hands gently grip his hips.
"Think you can keep in your pants until then?" He gently pushes me away, "We're
making a scene."
I start the say 'so what?' but the sound of Flynn's name being called makes all
the words I want to say die in my throat. I know that voice, even if it's been
four months since I've heard it, I'd know that voice anywhere. Turning my head,
my eyes fall on the figure I wish was nothing more than a figment of my
imagination, but I'm not that lucky. She looks at me- actually, no, she's not,
she's looking through me. Honestly, I expect nothing less from her. I wanna say
something to piss her off, but my mouth doesn't work properly so all I do is
give off a small 'tch'. I back off Flynn and lean against the wall next to him,
not at all liking the sudden turn of events.
Well, I'd probably like them more if it was someone else...
"Sodia? I didn't expect to see you here." Flynn says, sounding both surprised
and cautious.
"Yeah, I...I'm visiting relative...Flynn, do you know how worried everyone was?
Why did you just up and leave town without telling anyone?" She says, tone
obviously frantic because, well, why shouldn't she be?
Flynn hums in response, and I don't hide the smirk the forms on my face. That
little action tells me that the blond has no intentions of answering her
questions, and I'm sure it's going to frustrate the Hell out of her. Our former
schoolmate gives him a pleading look when he doesn't say anything for a good
minute, and I actually believe that she'll leave any moment now since she's
clearly not going to get anywhere with him. I don't mean to tense up when she
looks in my direction, and if I weren't use to it, her pointed gaze would've
made me falter even more. I stare right back, wondering just what is going
through that head of hers, but I have enough sense to know that it's not
anything good.
Sodia's always disliked me; maybe it's because of the stupid shit I did around
school, or maybe it's because Flynn had taken an interest in me, either way she
pretty much hates my guts. When not blatantly ignoring whenever she wanted to
talk to Flynn, she'd give me dirty looks, like my mere presence offended her.
The only words she usually said to me were all about how I should 'stay away
from Flynn', how I was a 'terrible influence' on him. All those times I had
wanted to tell her that Flynn was already fucked in the head, so being around
me really wasn't doing much damage.
"...If you had left by yourself, I...no one would've cared..." She spits out,
and she really looks like she's ready to rip my throat out, "So why did you
have to take Flynn with you? He was actually trying to become something-"
"Sodia..." Flynn interrupts her, and his warning tone surprises me since I've
never heard him sound like that before.
"Flynn, please, just...j-just..." She sounds frantic, and my jaw clinches when
she reaches over and takes Flynn's hand, "Come with me. I'm sure my parents
will understand and let you stay. Then the four of us can go back to town.
Please, Flynn-"
The man behind the counter calls her name and she's cut off once more,
something I'm grateful for because I really couldn't stomach anymore of her
pleading. I watch as she walks over and takes a brown paper bag from person who
had called her over, though she doesn't turn to leave right away. Instead she
pulls out a napkin from her bag and asks for a pen, scribbling something down
on it once she gets her hands on one. I know what she's doing, and I wanna
waltz right over there and rip the damn napkin from her hands. But I don't...I
don't move a goddamn inch.
She walks back over and hands it to Flynn, and when she gives him small hug, I
almost feel like praising her gall. It takes a lot of it to do that kind of
shit in front of me. The two of us stand in silence after she leaves, my mood
completely ruined. After we get our food, we walk back to the motel in silence,
which is fine since I'm pissed off enough to snap at the blond if he speaks to
me. I can roll with the punches, I've head worse things said to me, but for
Sodia to believe that she understood Flynn better than me is what really makes
me wanna punch a wall. I know things about Flynn no one else does, no one.
Flynn was much more complex than a simple guy from a town no one had probably
head of, who just wanted to do well to make something of himself so he could up
and leave that piece of shit behind. So to hear her say that he was nothing
more than that, makes my blood boil. To calm myself down a bit, I light up one
of cigarettes and take a long drag, but shit, it's not enough. The silence
doesn't end by the time we get back to our room, in fact I'm not feeling hungry
at all. So instead, I plop down on the hard mattress of the bed, lying on my
side with my back facing Flynn.
When I hear the TV turn on, I don't both to see what's playing since I'm far
more focused on my own thoughts. I'm not really sure how long I lay there, but
I feel like shit either way. Goddammit...we were having such a good time too. I
mutter a few curses before taking another drag off my cigarette.
"...I'd miss you." Flynn suddenly says, and my body freezes.
It takes me a minute to register what Flynn had said, and when I look over my
shoulder, I see him staring at me. He isn't smiling, but there is a softness in
his look. I hate that look...because it should've been directed at someone who
truly deserved it. I turn back over, a small laugh escaping my lips because I
know he truly means what he says.
"I know you would...Hell, you'd probably end up trying to hunt me down if I
left without you." I laugh again, mostly because he'd actually be stupid enough
to do so.
"Well, yeah, I'd be worried about you."
"Because you think I can't take care of myself-?"
"Because I love you."
My retort dies in my throat when I hear this. I hate how easily he can shut me
up, hate how I can't say a thing and hate that I really can't hate him for
saying such things. Flynn makes me weak...and for some reason I'm completely
okay with it. Rolling over, I just stare at the blond as he eats his food,
wondering all the while how he can be so okay with all of this. Flynn might
love me, but there has to be a limit to it...I might not know a lot about love,
but I figured people don't usually follow their lovers to shithole motel and
get fucked by guys two to three times their age for money. Flynn should've been
at home worrying about me, not right here by my side.
"...It's fucking gross how you follow me around like some damn dog..." I spit
out, not really meaning to.
"Maybe it is..." I hear him say, and for some reason it just pisses me off.
"Then go the fuck back home! Shit Flynn, I don't want you here, haven't you
figured that out by now?" I yell, and I'm mad, so goddamn mad that I don't care
if I hurt him.
"...I can't go home...and even if I could, you'd be coming with me." Flynn
says, and it's the way he says it that annoys me.
He's so damn calm, like he really understands what the Hell is going on. He
really doesn't get just how fucked everything is, how much I fucked up and how
fucked up his decision to follow me was. I quickly get up from my spot, and
even though I know I shouldn't vent my frustrations out of him, I do it
anyways. I nudge his side with my foot, asking if he knows how fucking stupid
he sounds. When he doesn't say anything I nudge him harder, because goddammit I
wanna hear his answer.
Flynn looks at me and I freeze, because he's never given me such a cold gaze
before. Actually, no...That's not completely true. I'd seen that look before,
but only when I brought up something extremely personal to the blond. I half
expect to be yelled at and told that I know nothing of his personal
life...which is true, since the blond never told me anything about his home
life. When Flynn starts to pull his shirt up, I'm a bit confused, because this
is a pretty serious matter and if he honestly thinks he can seduce his way out
of it, I'm going to give him a rude awakening. Instead of him taking it off, he
just points to a faded scar on his torso, one I had seen numerous times.
"3rd grade, because I failed an important test..." He lifts up his shirt higher
and points to another scar on his shoulder blade, "7th grade, because I got a D
on a project..." He then points to his back, and the scar looks fresher and
slightly nastier compared to the rest, "...Sophomore year...because I was
suspended from school for fighting..."
I just stare, my head filled with so many thoughts that I can't figure out what
to say first. I'd seen all of those scars before, plus many more, but I never
once bothered to ask how he got them. I mean shit, people have scars, it's just
a part of life, so why should I have bother asking where every little nick and
cut the blond got was from? Fuck...now I feel like shit. I should've known
something was wrong when I noticed the look of horror overcome the blond when
the two of us were given the suspension, and I really believed it was about his
squeaky clean record getting tarnished. What else was I supposed to think at
the time?
"I...shit Flynn...I-I didn't know your parents did that kind of stuff to
you..." I say, voice shaky because I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do
or say.
"It was just my mother...My father is a good man, but he worked so often that
he wasn't home all that much...she took advantage of that." The blond says as
he pulls his shirt back down, and I feel myself become a bit nauseous.
I feel like I should apologize, because it was my fault he had gotten that
wound on his back. I mean, I already apologized once, though that was before
finding out that I was responsible for the blond getting hurt. But my mouth
doesn't move, and I don't bother trying again because I know that deep down
there's no amount of apologies I could give that could make what Flynn said any
better. In fact, there probably isn't a thing I can say that could make it
better. I can't say 'hey, I understand what you've gone through', because even
if my mother had slapped me a couple of times, she never went so far as to
injure me like that.
It's frustrating as Hell, but I quickly come to accept that the best thing I
can do is shut up...
So instead of saying anything, I drop to the ground behind the blond, my body
pressing against his back. I rub my forehead against the fabric of his shirt,
and I feel like a complete prick for being so damn selfish. I never once
thought that Flynn had a deeper reason for coming with me, I seriously thought
he had only come because of me. Shit...he probably wanted to leave town as much
I did...I might've understood Flynn better than everyone else in that shithole,
but apparently that wasn't saying much...
"...I'm trash..." I mutter, and I feel like curling up in the nearest corner
and rotting away.
"You're not trash...don't call yourself the same thing she does..." Flynn says,
and I feel his back tense up as he speaks.
Of course he knows about the things my mother said to me, after all it wasn't
like she hid how much she hated me (though she was at least smart enough to not
say anything around teachers or cops). I chuckle a bit because I am trash, and
there probably isn't a thing that can change that fact. When Flynn turns to the
side and leans against my chest, I hesitate to stroke his hair, my fingers
slowly coming to run themselves through short, blond locks. I can smell the
lingering scent of soap, though it's mostly overpowered by the blond's own
scent, and I don't mind it in the slightest.
"I can't go home...I'm afraid she'll really kill me if I go back..." Flynn
mutters, and my mouth goes dry.
The fact that he really believes his mother would resort to that sort of thing
scares me, but it also tells me I did the right thing. I've thought about
calling the blond's house numerous times in the past, usually after he's been
fucked into the sheets by strangers looking to get off. I stay in the room
whenever the guys look more suspicious than usual, but it's during those times
that I regret letting him come with me. I've never acted on those urges,
because I'm a selfish bastard that doesn't want to be alone, but at least my
selfishness has saved Flynn from a worse fate.
"...Don't worry about going back there..." I say, my hands tilting his head
back so that he's looking at me, "...I'll be your home."
His eyes widen and the two of us just stare at one another. Fuck, that's the
cheesiest thing I could've said, but in my head it sounded nice. When Flynn
smiles, I think I've done the right thing, but as his smile starts to broaden I
know this fucker is about to laugh. Goddammit, can't he see that I'm trying to
be good person? Oh fuck me, now he's on the floor, gripping his stomach as he
laughs away like what I said is the funniest thing in the whole goddamn world.
My face is red with embarrassment, and to make sure the blond doesn't see, I
haul my ass up and back onto the bed, muttering a number of curses as I do so.
I light up another cigarette and plop down on my side, making a mental note to
NEVER say that kind of shit again. When I hear Flynn call my name, I tell him
to fuck off, because you don't make me look like an idiot and get off easy.
"Come on, I'm sorry, okay? It's just, you usually don't say that kind of
stuff." Flynn says, and by the way the bed dips, I know he's close.
"Whatever..." I mutter, flinching away when the blond touches my arm.
"Yuri, I'm sorry," He says while touching my arm again, "And thanks for saying
that. It really means a lot to me. Even if I laughed, I really did take it to
heart."
Ugh, why does he have to be so damn sweet? I stay silent, because he might've
been grateful, but he still made me look like a fool. I feel the bed move
again, my body tensing up when the blond kisses my cheek. He knows me too well,
knows how well I'll react to his actions because I'm a goddamn creature of
habit. Groaning loudly, I turn over and pull the blond down against the
mattress with me. Flynn smiles at me and I merely frown, but deep down I'm
really happy. Even if it came out in a stupid way, I really do want to be that
thing that makes Flynn feel safe.
We're not going back to that town...because our home is right here next to one
another.
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apart from his guardian obviously pained him
beyond measure. Snape did not want to risk more damage to the child than
already done.
 
 
Two
 
They entered Hogwarts at Midday. Dumbledore opened his fireplace to the floo,
so the man and the boy remained unseen.
The headmaster greeted both. "Severus." He observed him closely. Snape truly
looked like a parent who could use a long vacation.
"I have come for counsel." Snape said in a low voice as if ashamed by his own
inability to solve the matter.
"Relax, my friend. Raising a child is never meant to be a task for one person
only." Albus answered warmly.
Snape sat down. That impossible man had some nerves. But he felt relieved to be
with him. The witches of Craven's End maybe good mothers and nurses to
children, but who nursed him when he wanted to crawl into a hole, never to
return to this cursed boy and his confounding burden. So this was more about
him, Snape realised.
Dumbledore looked into his eyes, and the young man felt like drowning. He
blinked the emotions away, but the shields lowered in the presence of the
headmaster.
"I'm afraid he will not survive another night, Albus." he said. Nor I. He added
silently.
"What did the witches say?" the old man asked back.
"They urge me to stay by his side, but that won't solve the problem. It just
cures the symptoms."
"At least." Albus mused.
Snape remained silent.
Dumbledore paced the office. "So Voldemort found a way into him."
"It is still unclear whether by accident or by intention. I am at a loss,
headmaster. The boy's dreams are far too vague." the young man reported.
Dumbledore came to a halt. "Severus, you've probably already realised at this
age there is no possibility to find out what's troubling him." He watched Harry
closely. "My sister went through nightmares as well, like many children when
magic dawns inside of them, or outside magical forces are at work."
Snape looked up. "What did your family do then?"
Dumbledores eyes brightened. "My mother sought the most famous potions master
of Northern England and he brewed a sleeping draught of extraordinary potency."
he looked away. "But he's been dead for decades now."
"Has it helped your sister?" Snape asked.
"Yes." Silence. "But Harry isn't just disturbed by a magical wave or growing
pains. The darkest wizard sweeps the country with his rage and hate. The more
Harry grows, the harder hiding him will become."
Snape rose, bringing up a delicate matter. "Sir, the witches told me that I am
a strong protection for the boy myself."
"That is true."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't absolutely sure. I wanted you to find it out for yourself."
Dumbledore answered .
Snape looked at him, realising, the old man had not all the answers, either,
but it helped being in his presence, hearing his words even if it meant to sort
things out on his own. He mechanically raised his shields and Dumbledore
noticed.
"May I visit my lab in the dungeons? I will need some supplies." Snape asked.
The headmaster nodded silently. Snape left.
 
 
Three
 
Harry slept soundly in the flickering glow of magic candles. He lay huddled
under a small blanket in a comfy chair, that Snape had dragged downwards into
his lab at Craven's End.
The potions master was busy, cauldrons steaming, books scattered, his hair a
wet mess around his face. It was almost four O'clock and outside the early
summer sun soon would claim back heaven.
But the man did not care.
It was the seventh night without any remarkable results. He feared to never
find a suitable sleeping draught. Snape felt like something was missing. At
least, he had managed to get the boy through a three hour sleeping period. But
his sleep remained restless. Snape had become a constant visitor of the
wizard's black market for its mostly illegal ingredients. He trod highly
unstable ground there, but with some help of the witches he managed to avoid
unpleasant incidents with the ministry's snoopers.
Remarkable those witches – they miraculously disappeared most of the day but
always kept a mental touch with Snape. He could listen to their soothing voices
if he wanted to. They chanted like nuns in a convent, praying to the magic of
the departed. But mostly he did not. Solitude was a vital need to think for
Severus Snape. He only send for them, when he felt lost. Admitting that was
almost as unbearable as the boys crying.
Snape looked at Harry. Even now he could hear the maddening sound of the childs
nightmares as a memory. Who needed a Cruciatus spell when one had a child to
look after, a special child, he added, and instantly the image of James Potter
came to his mind. Insufferable git! But then a picture of Lily emerged.
He felt like weeping.
And why not? Down here, alone, nobody could see him.
So he did..
silently..
relieved... for a moment's time.
 
 
Four
 
Harry awoke.
Snape stirred What time was it? He gazed at the clock. Six already! The boy's
time. How long had he been sitting here?
The shadows under the child's eyes grew lighter, Severus noticed, but for the
price of his getting darker each night.
"Come Harry, Madame Hearthwood will have prepared breakfast. We better not let
her wait." Two little hands grabbed strong arms and Harry's little head leaned
on his shoulder, when he carried him upstairs.
"Good Morning, Severus." the witch greeted him.
"Good Morning Maryn." he replied automatically. His eyes refused to fully open.
"Another long nightshift?" she asked.
"Yes." he was not in the mood for talking at this hour, after Merlin knew how
many sleepless nights.
She understood.
"Harry dear, what about a nice play with the kids after breakfest." she asked
the boy.
Harry looked at Snape, fear showing in his eyes.
"Only a little bit. I bring you back home myself, I promise." her voice a
melody of sweetness.
"It's alright, Harry. I'm here." Snape replied. It was impossible to convince a
child this age of the benefits of kindergarten. All they wanted was being
around the ones they loved and trusted. But his words seemed to sink in and a
silent understanding arose.
The woman always marveled at that. "I don't know how you do it, Severus." she
said while dressing Harry. "I've seen quite a few wonderous relations between
wizards here in Craven's End but never anything like you two," and with these
words she left a baffled Snape. He growled after her.
He had not asked for it, none of it, but he may as well say that to Albus
Dumbledore or the wind. Fatigue struck him as soon as the boy had left. How was
he supposed to wake up from this nightmare? Returnig to his bedroom he fell
asleep and into a dream that finally revealed a possible solution for his
problem.
 
When he woke up again the sun had already passed zenith. Damn, how long had he
been asleep? He gathered his things and changed quickly. It was not too late to
pay a visit to the mighty library of Hogwarts, the place of the best potions
books. It was Holiday season for a week and no children near the castle. Only
Dumbledore, a few teachers and Filch lived in the old masonry.
He apparated in front of the iron gates and moved quickly past Hagrid's hut, up
the wild lawns. They seemed unattended for quite a time. The smell of meadow
flowers and old stones mixed in a typical scent outside the castle. Snape
entered the hall. His private unlocking spells still sufficed, but his head
throbbed as soon as he entered the library.
Harry!
He boy obviously cried again. Snape hurried. He stalked the endless
bookshelves, wand waving, highly agitated. He reached the restricted section
and murmured the proper spell that counteracted the one that locked this part
of the library during holiday season. Dumbledore had told him. The wretched
man.
The lock clicked and the gates opened. He entered the most dangerous place of
the school. Books mumbled in the deep of their holdings. The tension in the
dark magic section was palpable. Snape had always wondered how the head of this
school managed to assemble so much dark knowledge, and why he never feared it.
When he first had come here, Dumbledore had accompanied him, showing the young
man another way of studying dark magic, instead of giving his soul to the devil
named Voldemort. His left arm tickled. The dark sign felt like an open wound,
always reminding him of a time of total delusion. But with Lily's death total
clarity had come.
Snape commanded the books out of the shelves, hexing them, so he could not be
harmed. He looked for sleeping potions. The pages were turning and turning, the
man frantic, his head threatening to explode. But he knew what he was searching
for, because he knew Voldemort. He needed a potion that shielded brain
patterns. Snape had once brewed one against the mental intrusions of his
mother. If he only could alter it, so that the boy was safe from Voldemorts
wrath.
He found it. Somnus lacunare. Powerful potion indeed! He remembered most of the
components and realised, that almost all of them already resided in his lab in
Craven's End. But how, for Merlins sake, was he supposed to lay hands on a drop
of Giants weep? Last time he had almost payed the pursuit of it with his life.
But it had been worth it. His mother's tendrils of abuse could no longer reach
his mind. He had found solitude at last, when he was sixteen.
 
It dawned on Snape that there would be no time to wander the mountains of the
giants again. In fact, he would not dare after the last encounter with their
chief, whom he only escaped, because he had poisened him with a rather
obnoxious plant from his pocket. He saw faint pictures of the odd travel more
than six years ago before his eyes.
Something clicked inside of him.
The plant. He looked at the bookshelve and searched for the book "Herbalogy of
Death". His father had owned one, but after his passing Snape had refused to
inherit his property, and his mother had sold it to afford a comfortable life
during her last years.
Anger welled inside him. His pride may cost the boy's life.
Where was the God damn book?
Snape browsed the titles. The restricted section was far more extended than he
had thought. So many dangerous books. He blushed now and then, partly of shame
or excitement. He had dreamed to visit this place for so long. Now he felt so
overwhelmed by the sheer power of the room and its residents, that he was about
to go mad.
Concentrate, use your skills, he muttered to himself.
Harry! His headache was still torturing him.
Then something familiar happened. His emotions vanished and pure reason emerged
to take their place. Only his heart kept throbbing like an overstreched muscle.
And then he found a shelf, where a well known shaped and coloured book came
into his sight. He took it. It smelled of plant magic. Snape hastily opened the
book, searching, and there it was, all gloomy and threatening. He remembered
everything, including the fear of carrying something that powerful around, and
knew where to find it. It was pure poison, but he read further and almost
smiled in triumph. This information one could only find in this book. Brewed in
a certain way it could turn a sleeping potion into the most powerful shield
against magical bombardment.
Snape quickly wrote the brewing instructions down. With Amorona there was no
need for Giants weep nor any other forbidden ingredients. He sighed inaudibly.
Snape only had to get to the centaurs leir again to retrieve the plant. It was
almost as dangerous as the Giant's mountains, but there was one difference. In
this region lived his only friend. He put the book back and carefully locked
the restricted section again, after taking a last glance at the overwhelming
greatness of the place. Snape did want to return here one day.
He stalked down the stairs, over the lawns, past Hagrid's hut. The half giant
had abandoned his residence during summer, as always. Snape ignored the sight
and moved right into the woods. He just walked and walked with only one thought
in his mind. His head had eased down a bit, but in a far corner the pain lurked
like a hunting animal. Time was about to run through his fingers, like the
boy's life. He ran now, his coat ripped off and forsaken to the ground, a
remnant of his departure.
Two thestrals gazed at him, slightly swinging their bony wings. Hagrid must
have brought them here, Snape mused between his ever spinning thoughts. Could
he find Horus again? The centauer owed him. After he had reached the border of
the Hogwarts forcefield he apparated at once.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Five
 
He hid.
The borders were quiet. Snape watched closely and listened. The plant was not
far away. He remembered the location exactly and the way. Oh, how he wished for
an invisibility cloak now! The one from James Potter had mysteriously
disappeared. Yes, he knew about it. More than once Potter had sneaked out of
the dorm at night. Snape had witnessed it and remembered the envy. One time he
had tried to snatch it, but that bastard Potter hid the cloak well. Merlin knew
how often he had secretly met Lily. Snape swallowed hard and returned to the
present.
He had to move on. A protection spell should help a bit against the strong
centaur magic. But for how long? Horus had taught him a good one. Centaurs were
excellent telepaths - but only with each other. Nevertheless, Snape raised his
shields to the limit. Then he dared to go forward. He was good at sneaking
silently throught he bushes, though centaurs had unmatched sensory abilities in
their hooves. Nothing went unpunished. And after a few minutes on fragile
ground he heard them coming.
 
They sprang out of nowhere and blocked his way. Three of them. There was no
escsape. "What do you want, human?"
Snape insanely hoped, that he would not need to hurt them. He would hex them
with an unforgivable curse if necessary. As a Death Eater he had proven to be
capable of performing them.
"Forgive me for intruding but I am in desperate need of a certain plant to
rescue the life of a child." Snape bowed tentatively. A gesture he would not
have given to anyone or because of anything. He cursed the boy with a silent
hiss, but he was determined to not leave this place without the plant, or there
would not be any need to return at all.
"A child?" the centaurs asked.
"Yes." Snape replied hopefully. The innnocent were one of the few weaknesses of
the centaurs.
"We do not give our precious herbs to strangers, human. We do not serve you."
his voice hard again.
Snape saw no alternative but to appeal to their second weakness, debt and
honor. "I request to speak to one of your kind, Horus." a pause. "He is... my
friend." he managed.
This was uncommon. The centaurs retreated and communicated for a moment. Snape
breathed heavily, always ready to cast the deadly spell. One of them turned to
Snape again.
"Wait here. Horus will come and speak." he said, and Snape exhaled barely
audible. The chances of getting out of here alive had increased significantly.
 
The huge centaur appeared after a few minutes. Just the way Snape remembered
him.
"Do you know this human?" one of the three questioned him. Horus came closer.
"I do." he replied.
Snape stood very still. The situation could escalate at any time.
"What is he to you?"
"I owe him my life." Horus said.
A strong, beautiful creature, proud like everyone of them. As a boy, Snape
would have loved to wander the woods with him. He had admired their strength
and freedom. Things he never posessed. Today he relied on magic. A suitable
trade for a wizard. Physical strength was not necessarily an advantage in the
magical world, if one inherited the full wizarding power.
The centaurs quarreled. Snape feared a fight. This would get ugly. When
Centaurs fought with one another then to the death. Honor meant everything to
them.
"Human." one of them shouted.
Snape rose to his feet.
"You will stay here while Horus brings the requested plant. You will not move."
The man nodded.
Horus approached him. "What is it you need so direly, my friend?" he whispered.
"Speak quickly, or they might change their minds."
Snape murmured his request, descending again without eyeing any of the
creatures. Harry better survived this, or humiliating himself that way had been
all for nothing.
The centaure nudged Snapes head in approval, a common gesture among them. The
others may exiled him for nudging a stranger but the personal honor of a
Centaur surpassed the pressure of Centaur society. It was their core principle.
Such proud beings!
And off he went.
Snape sat on the ground like a prisoner but he did not mind. He would crawl the
carpet of Voldemort to save the boy, Lily's boy. He flinched from his own
premise. But he had to admit it to be true. There was no other reason to live,
to survive the excrutiating pain of Lily's loss.
 
The sun sank down mercilessly. If Horus did not return till dawn he would have
to leave without the plant. Could there be another way of saving the boy? But
then, an uproar rang through the woods. The centaurs, who still guarded him,
listened up. Then one of them hopped away. What was going on? Snape rose to his
feet.
"You stay put." the centaur demanded harshly.
Snape sat down again, surpressing the fear.
The centaure's dooming voices filled the silence of the evening. They performed
the trial of reason, Snape noticed. Someone had challenged Horus decision. It
was a serious battle for them. Snape could single out Horus' voice. It was high
pitched. A bad sign. He was about to loose the argument. Snape quickly decided
to perform a silent spell ignoring the consequences. All the centaurs watched
the scene, nobody really paid attention to the wizard.
But Horus voice darkened slowly. Snape sighed.
Then the noise abruptly died down.
"Human." the leader shouted.
Severus rose to his feet. His heart hammered against his chest.
"Horus' debt is hereby paid forever. You might go in peace. But be warned. If
you ever cross our borders again, we will kill you." the centaur said.
Snape bowed. Horus handed the plant over to him nodded. Then they escorted him
to the end of their territory. The man stepped over to safety not looking back
until there were no hoofsounds anymore. His hand loosened the grip around the
precious plant and he looked at it, exhausted. Relieve only came much later.
 
 
Six
 
Sweat dripped from the walls of Snape's lab. It was his twentyseventh try on
the shield potion for Harry. Only two more leaves of the Centaurian plant, then
he may as well bring the boy to Voldemort directly. Harry played with some of
his toys on the ground. He had not really slept for three days and nights.
Severus had no clue how the boy endured this, but obviously he managed fairly
well through an otherwise unimaginable lack of sleep. At least, this way Harry
was safe from the horrible nightmares. The question remained, how long he could
last under the circumstances?
The man turned back to his potion. He felt like something was missing. The
plant worked fine but the recipe did not produce a potion with the desired
effects. Snape wished for his old potions book from school. He remembered the
time of the Half-blood-Prince during his last year at Hogwarts. Snape had added
so much valuable information to his book back then, that he easily passed every
potion-exam with an "Outstanding". But the far greater satisfaction had been
the baffled face of James Potter and his gang when Dumbledore handed him the
"Graduate of the year" award. It had been the only time Snape felt worthy of
the wizarding community. It had been the only time his father congratulated him
on anything. Severus even remembered the faint smile on Tobias' Snapes face.
He returned to the present, abruptly. Snape frightfully looked at his potion.
The color had changed to black.
"Oh, it's ruined!" he exclaimed in frenzy.
He was useless, losing himself in the few good memories of his childhood. He
wanted to slap himself. Instead he threw the cauldron in a far corner, out of
the boys way.
Harry cried in panic. Snape sank down, his body trembling from frustration and
exhaustion. The boys hand touched his knee. Severus got hold of it and drew the
child into his embrace where Harry stopped wheeping after a few moments. Snape
took comfort in his warmth and closed his eyes. He did not want to think
anymore.
After a while Snape heard even breathing under his arms. The boy had gone to
sleep. Strange, the man thought. Harry did not pass out that easily these days.
He looked at him, carefully shook him, saying his name but the boy remained
sleeping. Then he spotted black stains on the boys lips and the same on his own
hand. He got up at once, the boy in is arms. The potion, of course. When he
threw the cauldron away his hand had caught some of the black liquid. In his
rage he had not noticed. Harry must have gotten something in his mouth while
crying in his arms.
He watched the child. Maybe the potion was all right, maybe he had not been
waiting long enough. Whatever it was, the boy slept, and all he could do now
was waiting. Would Voldemort reach the kid again? A tear passed down his left
cheek. He felt so very tired. Snape thoughtfully wrapped the boy in his cape
and lay down with him between the lab tables.
Harry slept for ten hours without a sound.
 
 
Seven
 
The nights were quiet again. Snape learned that a single drop of his potion
would trigger a chain reaction, combining certain ingredients of the brewed
plant with the magic of the wizard's cells. It changed the energy-field of the
body and reflected search spells. Simple but astonishing magic that seemed so
easy from the moment he learned about it. When Snape looked back to the
desperate days and nights he could not believe it. He wrote an extensive paper
about the brewing and the effects. Then he hid it well in his study. Maybe one
day he could share this information with the headmaster and other wizards. Now
it was far too dangerous. Voldemort might find out about his success.
Snape thought of the boy, who played happily in the nursery again. The witches
had honestly tried to head hunt him for their village. It actually lacked a
good potions master, and he felt flattered indeed, but this success had boost
his determination to protect Harry even more. There was no chance to keep him
from doing that.

Snape had returned to Hogwarts for a few days, and he wished he could share his
knowledge fully with Dumbledore but a simple "Well done" was the best he could
get these days. He managed. Soon the new schoolyear would begin and he wanted
to study and try harder than ever.
***** Chapter 7 *****
                                 Chapter Five
 
 
One
 
The next years passed in a never changing circle. Getting up early, tending to
the boy, bringing him to the nursery, going to Hogwarts teaching and then
returning to his second life. Snape was used to secrets, but sometimes he got
so bored by the every day life of a parent (Did he really think that dreadful
word?) that the only excitement remained his ongoing schemes and attempts to
become the DA teacher.
Dumbledore knew he wanted that post. How many valid arguments he had already
brought forward, but Albus Dumbledore did not give his most dangerous position
to a young Ex-Death-Eater, who secretly protected the only "weapon" against the
oncoming storm of a certain wizard. A part of Snape understood and even felt
safe with this knowledge. What if he really got this position? Then he actually
had to face all the effects of this job. So it remained a game he played to
temporarily escape the secret guardianship of a small boy, who needed an amount
of protection that brought him to his limits.
Snape watched Harry growing stronger and taller each day. He had learned to
endure the mood swings of a small child and found himself growing as well. He
became more patient with his students, though he still only cared for the
Slytherins. At least, that was what he told himself.
Harry's seventh birthday came near, and a nagging fear crept up in the young
man. At this age wizards entered school and became official members of the
wizard society. And the real reason why wizards made all that fuss about a
simple birthday was that their body and mind entered a new level of magical
force. Now it became dangerous to be around the kids without teaching them some
skills to manouvre their powers.
Harry had shown some extraordinary abilities in kindergarten. He was the only
one who could move a small toy from at least one meter away with his hand. He
slowly realised what being a wizard meant, and Snape secretly taught him some
simple mind regulations because he just feared the power of the boy would harm
others.
Harry trusted him completely and hung onto Severus more than the man was
comfortable with. The way he loved him burnt Snape's heart. His cries became
much easier to bear than his growing affection. Madame Hearthwood proved to be
a valuable mother surrogate, but the boy always felt safer with Snape. He
sometimes spent a night in the Dungeons of Hogwarts to flee from the
responsibility and the boy's need to be looked after. Then he could not sleep
because he worried all night about Harry's well being. Snape felt trapped,
wanted to run away many times but did not. When his anger towards Dumbledore
grew inacceptably strong, he reminded himself of the vow he had given, and that
he had not only been forced by the power of his guilt but of his love.
Lily!
Through the boy's eyes she seemed to constantly watch him. As if she were right
there, alive and beautiful. Harry inherited her gentle nature, only sometimes
he got as stubborn as James Potter. At least Snape got a reason to hate the
child now and then. Harry started to ask for his parents, because Snape
rejected the boys wish to call him father. He only accepted "Severus" and had
given Harry a hard time, until he managed to say the full name, but Snape had
no intention to change into a nice and loving kind of uncle, not even for
Lily's son. How was he supposed to keep Harry's life a secret, when he got all
soft inside from his guardianship? Voldemort would exploit this weakness in no
time.
 
 
Two
 
"Severus?"
"Yes, Harry."
"I'm afraid."
Snape looked up from his desk. "There is nothing to be afraid of. Why would you
say such a ridiculous thing?"
The boy abandoned his little toy figures and got up. "I don't want to leave
kindergarten. Maybe the kids don't like me at school."
Snape put his pen down and looked at Harry. "You will learn what it means to be
a wizard. There is no need to fear others. You better should fear to not study
hard enough."
The boy flinched, and Snape realised he had been too harsh with him. He heard
the familiar voices of the witches in his mind. Of course, it was not about his
intelligence nor his abilities. Fear was a constant companion of the boy. A
fear that Snape knew too well. Maybe that was the reason he refused hearing him
say things like that.
"Does it hurt?" Harry asked.
"What do you refer to?"
"Becoming a wizard?"
Snape gasped. Of course, it was about the upcoming ritual. But the question
opened a whole can of feelings inside Snape regarding the subject, he would
rather leave untouched. Nobody had answered any of these questions when Severus
was a boy, but he could feel the pain and fear inside the child, as if they
were his very own. Snape hesitated, because he wanted to answer the question as
honestly and thouroughly as possible.
His fists slightly clenched. He searched for suitable words. "Do you rememeber
the nightmares?" Snape asked cautiously.
"Yes." the boy whispered.
"And do you remember the moment when you summoned a toy from far away for the
first time?"
"Yes!" the boys eyes glowed for a moment.
"Could you... deal with both situations?"
"Yes, I could." Harry said, not really comprehending what his guardian was
trying to say.
Snape closed the distance between them.
"Sometimes it hurts being a wizard, Harry, sometimes it's very exhilerating.
Life can't always be kindergarten." It was the best Snape could think of right
now. The almost seven year old boy did not fully understand, but Snape would
not lie to him. In a strange way he trusted the child. He would adapt. He had
to, or Voldemort would crush him while Snape was put between them.
You are his shelter.
He felt the weight of these words, but the last years had dissolved most of its
terror. His ever growing compassion towards the kid was much harder to deal
with.
"There is no need to worry, Harry," Snape said, his face desperately trying to
maintain the unreadable mask it was used to be. Then he managed to add: "I will
assist you in every way I can."
"You promise?" the boys eyes filled with tears.
"I promise." Severus replied. But Harry could not keep the tears from falling.
Snape fetched a tissue from his pocket. "Always."
 
 
three
 
It was a day to remember.
Harry was brought to Dumbledore. Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid and Snape performed
the ancient ritual of ascension. Every seven year old child had to attend this
ceremony in order to receive the "marking". It helped to focus the new forming
wizarding energies. Usually it was the task of family members, but every wizard
could be a master of ceremony if neccessary. So the only four people in
Hogwarts who knew that Harry Potter still existed encircled him now.
He stood, eyes closed and was held only by silver strings emerging from the
wands of his masters. Dumbledore constantly murmured spells. It sounded like a
religious litany, and in some way that was what it was all about. Wizards would
not refer to it as GOD but as the Magic, which they were luckily able to use
directly.
Muggles had forgotten about magic and lost their power over it.
The magic Harry had felt growing inside of him during the last weeks seemed to
dissolve into every part of his body. His arms and legs felt energetically
renewed, and his mind rose to a new kind of alertness. Fear welled up from the
sudden sensations, but Harry remembered Severus' words. All his senses felt
hightened, except one. Harry's eyesight remained as bad as it had always been.
A heritage of his father.
Then he slept four hours straight. Snape never left his side. It was a
dangerous sleep for a wizard. The man hoped he would not need another shield
potion. The "marking" meant, that the wizarding world got informed of new
wizards growing into their society. The danger that Voldemort directly learned
of Harry's existence had increased indefinitely. But nobody could prevent Harry
from becoming a full wizard. His safety had been bought only for a couple of
years. And the more Snape could teach and protect him, the greater grew the
chances of saving not only the wizarding world but the world of Muggles as
well.
 
 
Four
 
“Uncomfortable“ was the understatement of the century.
Severus Snape felt something far worse, while he sat in the crowded classroom
among all the other parents, who beamed proudly over the achievments of their
children, while the class teacher gave a report of the first weeks in school.
He did not specificly mention anything about Harry, fortunately. Speaking one
word might let Snape die of shame. This kid had thrown him in hell more than
once, but this exceeded every previous feeling of humiliation he had
experienced so far.
"Why a muggle school?" he had asked Dumbledore. And some of the old man's
arguments sounded way too familiar in the young man's ears. As a child Snape
had to endure the agony of being an outcast among clueless muggles himself,
until the age of eleven never being allowed to perform a simple spell. His
father had insisted. It would mould his character, Tobias Snape had said. All
it did to Snape was increasing the disgust and hate towards his parents but
also the longing for the salvation of love and belonging.
"We need to keep him from our world as long as possible, at least until he has
to enter Hogwarts." Dumbledore had said.
Snape felt at a loss. What was the old man thinking? Why hiding Harry in
Craven's End in the first place?
"There are other ways of hiding a wizard than veiling him under Merlins
protection, Severus."
As if this would clear things up in the young man's mind.
Dumbledore explained it to him. "After the marking Voldemort knows of the boy's
existence. He can look for him much easier than before, but Harry's new powers
will mingle with the powers of his protectors from the ceremony, so the Dark
Lord can't locate him. This also means, his shelter isn't limited to a certain
place anymore."
This was good news, though Snape still could not fully return to Hogwarts. It
pained him more than ever. He wanted to be more than a guardian and a random
teacher again. When Harry entered school, the wanting increased.
For now Snape had to sit here, clad into ordinary black clothes to fit at least
a bit among these people. The lack of comfort of his usual garments had turned
his whole body into a stiff pole. In his mind he thought of all the unspeakable
things he wanted to do to Dumbledore, Harry and these ridiculous muggles around
him. But Snape managed, like Harry. He did not want the boy to be stronger than
himself. Not yet.
 
 
Five
 
The first year went well.
Harry carefully obeyed the commands of his guardian. He was too afraid of being
detected. Snape saw to it. But during his first summer holidays from school
Harry changed. He started to speak up to Snape more and more. At first Snape
thought it was just about being a kid trying to fit into his peer group. Harry
wanted things the kids owned, and he had to get along with them. But Snape
noticed an unrest in the boy. He also kept more to himself than usual, and his
face displayed a sadness deep down in his soul, where Snape would not reach
him.
The man let him, just observing, but through the next year the Harry, Snape
used to know, vanished almost completely. One day he roamed the boy's room,
hoping to find anything that could explain the boy's retreat. The witches had
urged him to investigate. They still kept an eye on the boy, though both had
already left Craven's End and lived now in a Wizard town near the muggle
school. It was a rather large city that looked very ordinary from outside, but
when the concealing spells were removed, it could easily compete with the early
industrial settlements of 19th century England. Just without the dirt. Snape
had insisted on the sparse location, because he felt comfortable there with the
plain but melancholic colours.
He swept the room for any sign, that would lead to the boy's change. But there
was nothing. And what was he supposed to find? Harry's spells were superior to
children of his age, but without a wand they remained harmless. Snape
remembered a board in school where the kids got warned about drugs and
bullying. His heart beat faster and denial formed in it. He so did not want to
deal with this. All his painful memories emerged from the black pits of his
unconcious mind. Scenes so violent that he gasped for air. School had been like
hell to Severus Snape.
And Potter! He had been the worst.
What if the famous Harry Potter lived through the very same endurement? Would
that not have been ironic or even a gratification for Snape's pain, he mused
absently. But there was no such thing. Nothing would take away the pain of his
childhood. There was no redemption as much as there was no cure for the desease
he had brought about the boy's family and about himself. The least he could do
was share Harry's misery.
Snape woke from the thoughts as if they had reminded him of his mission again.
He had to protect the boy from whatever threat. And right now Harry needed him
very badly.
                                       *
Autumn had vanished, and the evenings grew long and silent again. Harry would
not speak, and Snape decided to try something that might lure him out of his
shell.
"I will see you in my study, Harry." he said calmly but sternly.
The boy flinched as if expecting another lecture on behaving like a muggle but
thinking like a wizard. He trodded off and Severus prepared for the worst
conversation he was about to have with Harry so far. He wanted the boy to trust
him and now was a crucial time for it. The boy grew, and Severus Snape had to
grow with him whether he liked it or not. How could he earn his trust on the
brink of his puberty? By not treating him like a small child anymore. It was
the only way.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Six
 
After dinner they met.
Snape watched him very closely. He surveyed every inch of his body for unsusual
changes, his aura for treacherous flickers and his eyes. He startingly realized
how much he had avoided looking into them lately. He also realized why. Their
light grew more blinding each day. But what was that? They seemed to have
dimmed as if the green had turned a bit greyish, and a premonition dawned on
him.
Damn the boy! Severus begged silently he would be wrong.
Snape strengthened and gestured towards Harry to sit down. The boy obeyed.
"Have you ever wondered why you really live with me?" Snape asked, listening to
the trembling of his own voice. He stiffened further, contracting all the
muscles of his body to maximum. He feared so much to fall apart right in front
of the child, that he had to brace himself though he did not even stand on his
feet.
"Because my family is dead..." Harry lowered his gaze. "...all of them." And,
as if a mask was about to slip from his face, he pressed one hand to his eyes.
Snape's heart took some extra leaps that he had to hold on to his desk even
more, but the boy's desperation shook him out of his childish self pity. He
managed to speak with an even voice.
"Yes, Harry, but why me of all people?" Severus asked further.
The boy was about to weep. Snape gritted his teeth. He hated Harry's tears.
They reminded him too much of his own and now was not the time for them.
"Do you?"
"No, Sir." Harry whispered.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I don't believe you."
Harry looked up, questions in his eyes and fear.
Fear of being detected? Snape wondered.
"You know how dangerous it can be to keep secrets between us?" the man
questioned further.
Harry nodded.
"Is there a secret I should know about?" Snape asked.
Harry resumed staring to the ground again, his breath shallow against the thick
air of the room. At least the tears were held at bay, for now.
"I do not know why you keep so private lately, but surely there is something
troubling you." Snape said.
Harry remained silent.
Severus inhaled deeply and got up. He turned to face the window. He could feel
the boy was about to slip away from him, so he maybe had to step out of the
dark, take a risk. Severus struggled. And although he thought he had prepared
himself for the worst, for telling the truth, it still felt too soon.
"I loved your mother, Harry." Severus said, still facing the window of his
study.
He paused waiting for a reply, waiting for his heart to calm down, so he could
continue. The room remained silent.
"Her love protected you. When your mother died, this protection descended to
the next living person who loved her. And since your father and all your
remaining family died as well, I became the most suitable guardian for you."
now he turned, slowly.
Harry stared at him.
These eyes!
Snape held the boys gaze heroicly. And then something unexpected happened.
Suddenly, Severus Snape did not see Lily's eyes anymore.
Those belonged to Harry. Their glow radiated all kinds of feelings but most of
all, love.
Snape's mask slowly melted away, although his face remained as steady as it
could be. Something became absolutely clear between them. An understranding and
closeness was revealed in this very moment, and a strange calm arose inside the
man.
Severus Snape could let go.
Lily may had always beeen his primary motivator, but her memory dimmed in the
light of his relationship with Harry Potter.
The fear and need to force Harry to admit his secret waned. Instead he heard
himself say:
"I trust you to decide whether it's important to tell me or not. If you cannot
tell me now, you are free to leave."
The boy was still stunned, but eventually he got up and heading to he door,
turning once more towards Snape, befuddledly watching him before he left.
Yes, Harry's eyes.
Severus felt relief. He fetched a picture from the drawer and had to sit down
for a moment, looking at the moving image of Lily. To share his most dear and
painful secret with Harry had set him free.
 
 
Seven
 
He wandered through a house with endless corridors, each packed with rooms and
rooms to no end. The man was looking for something, but did not remember what
it was. He ran out of time because the house was about to collapse. Fire had
already consumed the lower corridors and soon threatened to eat the man alive.
If he only could find what he was searching for. Between the cracking of flames
he heard a faint growl, that rose from howling into a high pitched sound. He
ran even faster, not sure whether he tried to escape from or find the source of
it. Then he understood. Someone cried for help. It all made sense now. The man
ripped the doors open. Why could he just not force them all open at once with
his magic? There was not enough time! The sound swell to a terrible scream,
that tore his soul apart. Snape woke at once.
Pitch black darkness greeted him. A storm hauled outside, and the rain lashed
against his open window. He hopped out of bed, closing it. But the noise would
not cease. He still heard the scream.
Harry!
Snape stalked through the corridor to the boy's room, tearing the door open.
Cries of agony thundered from the bed. The man hurried to his side, picking up
the shaking form, trying to wake him.
"You can't have me!" the boy uttered, and for a terrible moment Snape thought
that he spoke to him.
"He won't let you."
Snape dragged the boy into his arms. "Harry, it's me, Severus, wake up!"
Harry's head rolled restlessly in the man's arms. "No! No!"
Snape painfully remembered the horrific nights six years ago, when Voldemort
had almost killed the boy just by disturbing his dreams. It all washed back in
an instant.
"Harry, wake up!" Snape began to pace the room with the crying child, but all
he managed was to calm the screaming to a certain degree. He left the room to
fetch a strong sleeping potion of his own making. He put some drops into Harrys
mouth.
Sleep came back, though it was shallow. Snape sat beside his bed, exhausted,
until morning. All he could hope for was that the boy started to talk to him
again.
 
Harry had caught a fever, and so both got the chance of spending some time
together. Snape would abandon his usual work, though he had plenty. Christmas
was due, and the soon-to-be-holiday papers demanded his attention, but the boy
was more important. Snape would do nightshifts if neccessary.
Harry slept half of the next day. Severus stayed close, open doors to the next
room. The Mediwitch from Craven's End had sent some fever potions, but Snape
doubted they would really work. The boy's fever was of a different magical
nature. This kind of stress always raised heat inside the boy, as if his body
tried to burn the problems. How about this time?
Snape entered the room and changed the towel on Harry's head. The boy seemed
restless, half asleep, half awake. He murmured something, and at first Snape
did not pay attention to it. But while rearranging the wet clothes he suddenly
realised that the boy did not just stammer in fever he spoke... Parsel?
The man recoiled. Adrenalin flooded his system and suddenly he badly wanted to
flee the house. But he could not move. Harry kept murmuring, and Snape cursed
himself, because he had no clue what the boy was saying. He needed Dumbledore,
right now!
 
The headmaster apparated a few minutes later, listening to Harrys murmur.
"It is Parsel, Severus." he confirmed worriedly.
"Voldemort?" the young man asked.
"Yes, but this has already been passed on to Harry when Voldemort scarred him."
he said without taking his eyes off the child.
Snape's mouth dropped open. "When did you plan to inform me about this?"
"I didn't know until now, Severus. I always feared what abilities Voldemort had
involuntarily passed on to him. Parsel was one of it, but I couldn't know until
now." And he did not ever want to.
"Harry is hiding something." Snape said.
Dumbledore turned to face the man.
"I don't know what it is yet, but I think he tries to protect me by not
telling."
"Voldemort?" asked Dumbledore.
The young man nodded. "I'm afraid that he is intruding his mind again." He
absently touched the boys head. "I have tried everything." then shame
overwhelmed him. "Yesterday I even told him the truth... about me and his
mother." Snape lowered his gaze.
"That was very brave, Severus." Dumbledore said softly.
Some relief calmed his tense body. "I was afraid he'd close up completely. I
still am."
Dumbledore understood. His young friend needed help and a Parsel speaking child
was not his only problem.
"Every parent experiences this kind of fear, Severus. When children keep to
themselves and go their own way."
"I am no parent!" Snape insisted coldly.
Dumbledore smiled. "I know, but no matter how you call it, you are. Your heart
is."
Snape breathed heavily. The boy had caught him, and he felt all these
ridiculous emotions about losing him, fearing for his health, fearing for his
soul. Oh, damn boy!
 
Snape was furious. "Has it crossed your brilliant mind that this fever might be
more than a whim of puberty or cutting the cord?" Snape reminded Dumbledore but
curled his mouth in disgust when he realised he was in fact talking like a
parent.
Dumbledores features darkened. "You are right, forgive me." he looked to the
boy again. "Does he trust any of the witches? May he talk to one of them?"
"No." Snape answered. "Only me. He'd rather die than revealing anything to
someone else."
"Did he tell you that?"
Snape hesitated. "As a matter of fact, I raised him this way." Something he
usually was proud of but which seemed rather inconvenient right now.
"I see." Dumbledore said and mused about the faith he had in the young man.
"Maybe I need to involve myself more into his life. Maybe now is the time to
place trust in more than one wizard in this matter."
Snape had listened to the words, but all he could feel was nagging self doubt.
Did he fail?
"You did great so far, Severus, I still trust you. Maybe the boy starts talking
to you. Keep me informed, at any time, do you hear me?" Dumbledore urged.
"I will, headmaster." Snape replied.
"My sister used to have fevers like these. They only cool off by releasing the
stress that caused them." the old man said absent minded.
Snape inhaled. "Thank you, headmaster." and nodded.
Dumbledore disapparated.
Snape cursed the man, worried about the boy, hating everything. He paced the
house, futily trying to occupy his mind with other matters. Then he caved in
and wept, half an hour long, locked inside his study, tears wetting the moving
image of Lily Potter.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm a bit mad at myself because I've forgotten to add the last
     chapter of Part I yesterday. So here it is and the first chapter of
     Part II. That way you won't have to wait another day for what happens
     next. :-)
     I hope you all stay with me, because things start to get strange. (I
     hope in a good way)
                                  Chapter six
 
"Father?"
"It's me, it's Severus."
"Father?"
"I'm here."
"He wants to hurt me."
"I won't let him. Trust me?"
"He hates me."
"I am protecting you."
"He will take me, father."
"He will have to take me first, Harry."
 
                                       *
 
The child was sound asleep, and the man lay beside him. The fever had cooled
off after two more days and nights.
They had talked, in dreams. Snape had no clue how it had worked out, and he
still did not really know what was troubling the boy. Somehow they communicated
through a mental bond that only worked by letting Harry call him "father".
Snape never directly answered it, but the boy seemed fine with believing it.
The man had caught images now and then, sometimes pictures of terror that even
frightened him, people screaming in agony, fire and always lightning bolts
thrusted by powerful wands. By one powerful wand, to be precise. It was
Voldemort. He searched for the boy and Snape could not tell whether it was
really the Dark Lord looking for Harry or just a dream of a frightened kid.
 
Snape taught again. The days in Hogwarts did not provide the usual comfort
because the man was restless. Harry was in Craven's End again for recovery. The
witches tried their best, but the boy would just keep to himself. Snape took
him home every afternoon, but all the boy did, was asking when he could go to
school again. Harry avoided his gaze, and Snape could not do anything but
accepting the boy's decision.
After a week back in school Harry disappeared.
 
 
 
 
                                    PART 2
                                You are winter
 
                                   Chapter 1
 
One
 
He woke up, and when he rose automatically his head drummed painfully
against... Against what?
Harry ascended into conciousness and looked around. Where was he? He saw even
patterns descending in front of him, like stairs but from behind. He was
sitting in a cupboard! He instantly thought of dreaming and panic seized him so
suddenly, he could not think straight.
Voices.
Harry stopped. He was not alone. Maybe, when he kept very quiet, they would go
away. But instead they crept nearer. A woman's voice. She called for someone.
"Dudley, honey, come down."
Harry shrank back, not remembering the name at first. A rumble came from
upstairs, and then Harry's little hiding place was shaking. The stairs
threatened to cave in, when a huge boy aggressively hopped them down. He
returned about three times shouting and ranting.
"Hey cousin, come out! Come out!"
Then he rattled Harry's door, and the boy was more frightened than he had ever
been in his life. The huge kid thrusted the little door open, and for a moment
Harry feared it might break apart. There he was! He pushed Harry back the
moment he had smashed the door and headed towards another room.
"Harry Potter, get your miserable self out here. We need breakfast."
And that was the moment Harry drew the connection. He was in the house of his
mothers' sister and her family, except, they were all supposed to be dead.
 
 
Two
 
He still believed to be dreaming, at least, until he had absolut proof for the
contrary. Harry decided to play along with the dream, so he just sprang out of
the little jail and entered the living room. He gasped. All the room was filled
with a huge pile of presents. He spotted his aunt and she looked indeed like
the woman from the picture that Severus had shown him. Harry was good with
faces. They illuminated when he looked at them and burned into his memory like
nothing else.
She looked at him with dismay, much different as she looked at her son. Harry
tried to read the room as fast as possible, but it was not as easy as he was
used to it. His eyes did not work right.
"And how do you think you'll prepare a proper meal without your glasses,
mister?" a stern piggyish voice asked from another corner. Harry froze. This
voice must belong to Vernon Dursley, he thought.
Glasses? Since when did he need glasses? He never wore glasses in dreams.
Harry lowered his head and returned to the cupboard. There they lay, neatly
folded on a sidebench. He took them and saw, they once were broken and now
crudly mended. They were ugly. And then he looked down at his body. His clothes
gave a sad expression - huge, dirty trousers, an even bigger shirt, grey and
messy. But he took the glasses and returned to the kitchen, playing along.
"Will you ever make breakfast, Potter?" the aunt asked but without turning to
him. She only had eyes for Dudley.
Harry was an eight year old boy in a bad dream. How was he supposed to make
breakfast? All he knew was home, where breakfast was made by elves,
mysteriously appearing on the table. He tried to remember the afternoon at
school where the pupils had a cooking lesson. Easy stuff. Scrambled eggs. Harry
recalled the experience fondly. In fact he had been amazed by the simple
transformation of a transparent egg-glibber into a tasteful meal just by
heating it. If he only could remember. But very soon he realised that a wizard
never bothered with such questions, and although he was not a full wizard yet,
he already could "do" things. So the conversation began.
How is it done? He asked, and then he could miraculously observe how his hands
and arms moved by themselves, preparing what muggles considered a proper
breakfast. He talked to the food, the machines and the oven.
It all went too well, in fact. But that was a dream, was it not? Harry often
dreamed about being a full wizard and saving the world or similar things. These
dreams were delightful. The other ones scared him to death. He better not
remember them. The Dursleys seemed content, though they only assigned him a
plate with the leftovers and send him to clean the dishes afterward.
The day flew by in a haze. Harry always expected it to end, but it never did.
No Voldemort interrupting nor his guardian, Severus, who always appeared when
he dreamed badly. Now this dream was different. Harry did not know yet why, but
maybe he would find out. So he tried to adapt to all the strange new places.
The family went to a zoo, and although they seemed hostile and cold, he felt
like an ordinary boy for a few hours. And for some reason he liked it. The
evening dawned, and Harry was sent to the bathroom to clean. Well, that was
common, so he did. He stripped his clothes off and looked into the large
bathroom mirror.
A gasp escaped his mouth.
What was that? He watched his body closely. During the day he had not paid much
attention to it but now he could see it clear and unmistakably. Little black
hair was growing around his testicles. And his penis? Harry looked closer. It
was bigger than he remembered it. He examined the rest of his body. Hair sprang
from other places though still sparsly. But he definitely had changed. His
feet. Had they grown, too?
Harry exit the room and went back to his little place. Uncle Vernon closed it
without a Good night, and the boy suddenly felt stored away to the farthest
place of the world. He was alone, altered into half a man (at least that was
how it felt) and all he could hope for was to fall asleep and never to return
to this dream.
 
 
Three
 
When he woke up at the same spot in the morning, Harry realised something major
had happened. He did not live in a dream but in a different reality. There was
no other explanation. And as if that was not bad news alone, he also seemed to
have entered another time. He had quickly learned that he was about to turn
eleven in the next days. Adapting to this sudden leap into pre-puberty was the
hardest. It was even harder than behaving like the Harry the people of this
reality knew.
The Dursleys pretended that Harry was no wizard and maybe it was true here. He
had not found the right time to ask about his parents, yet, and to find out why
the Dursleys still lived, let alone why he was with them and not with Severus.
Severus. He missed him so badly. He missed the world of magic. And although in
his world a dangerous wizard threatened his life, the boy rather wanted to die
than to be damned forever to a life without magic.
Harry tried to fit into an ugly school they sent him to with damaged kids. The
way this world treated him was the way he felt inside - lost, totally
abandoned. Like a broken toy that Dudley had thrown away. One evening he
summoned all his courage and asked aunt Petunia about his parents.
"Harry Potter, I don't know what this is all about now, and why you pretend not
remembering what we told you about a dozen times." she said angrily. "They are
dead, you stupid boy, killed in a car accident. And don't you bother me again.
Go make dinner." Her look had darkened, and Harry spotted a hint of grief in
her eyes. Why would she be so cold to him, so angry while talking about her
sister, about his parents?
Harry felt numb. He did as he was told.
In a car accident.
No words about her and his father being magicians, he mused while preparing the
food. To what kind of world had he come to? Really a world without wizards? Was
he the only one now? The loneliness increased to levels he could not even
conceive of so far. He did not know how long he could endure this kind of
suffering. At least in his world he had been taken care of, though Severus was
the strictest and most unforgiving guardian one could imagine. Still Harry
loved the man. Snape had always protected him.
In the night he tossed his thougts to and fro whether to leave this place and
go searching for his kin or just enduring another day in this terrible home.
After a few days in the house of the Dursleys being an ordinary boy did not
feel so great anymore, although they were his real family. He longed for the
family of his world.
 
His birthday promised to go unnoticed. The Dursleys kept him as a kind of
slave, an inferior being, much like wizards treated their houseelves, he
painfully realised. A creature who had no right to celebrate birthdays. If
Harry ever returned to his world again, he would make sure that the elves would
be treated properly. But for now his world seemed as far away and unreal as a
dream. Harry feared someday he might forget that he had ever lived in it.
 
 
four
 
"You are a wizard, Harry." the big hairy giant said. He had introduced himself
as Hagrid after breaking the door to the small cottage, where the Dursleys had
brought all the family. They wanted to escape from the countless letters
delivered on Harrys 11th birthday by what seemed to be the owldom of the whole
world.
Now Harry looked into two lovely, doggy eyes and listened to the sweet timbre
of the giant's voice, and it felt like vibrations from the realm he was so well
aware of and had feared to never enter again. Harry listened to Hagrid's words
in astonishment. He learned that he was a pupil of the magic world now and
would enter Hogwarts school of Wizardry and Witchcraft. It was like a dream,
again.
Excitement mixed with plain horror, when he thought of meeting his guardian
soon. What would the Snape of this world be like? And was there a slight chance
to return to his world again? Would he stilll have to face Voldemort around
here?
 
It all happened in a trance. The Hogwarts Express was impressive, the boats to
the castle, the sorting hat, which had appointed him to Gryffindor, but that
was nothing compared to the new friend he had found, the red haired Ronald
Weasley and some new enemies.
But then the most exciting moment followed when supper had been served and
Harry watched the teachers' table. There he was, clad all in black, long black
hair and a face of stone. Harry's heart took a leap, and for a moment he feared
to break out in tears. Returning to this world of his was overwhelming already,
but finding an exact copy of his guardian at the Hogwarts table was almost too
much for him.
They exchanged looks, and Snape wondered what it was about the boy until he
realised, it was Potter's son. The boy who lived. All at once he felt his
innards crawl upside down, hate wallowing up. The past had caught up to him
once more. His new nemesis had arrived. He would teach Harry Potter what it
meant to be a celebrity in the hands of his potion teacher. So many years ahead
where he could punish the boy for every reason that might come up.
He had not seen Harry's eyes, yet.
Harry did not know about the man's animosities. He rather wondered how he could
get close to him, talk to him, hoping he could make everything all right.
 
 
Five
 
The first Potions lessons were a nightmare. Snape seemed to pick on the boy,
asking all kinds of questions Harry could barely answer. At least, he knew what
Wolfsbane was, since Harry had secretly watched Severus fixing the potion for
the werewolfs. He had caught him back then. At first his guardian had been
furious, but then he taught him a bit about the ingredients.
The Severus of this world did not know Harry at all, but he seemed to hold a
grudge against him that went far beyond mere aquaintance. How on earth was he
supposed to ask him for help?
Harry began to like Hogwarts. His friends Ron and Hermione nurtured his lonely
soul. He was thrown into wild adventures and took his first steps in the
wizarding world. This was so much more than he could have hoped for. The muggle
school felt like death compared to the magic world he had entered again. And he
could barely remember Craven's End. He had been so young. It was only Severus
he missed.
All pupils hated Snape. He behaved as if he was made of stone, closed to
others, cold faced, but Harry felt a bit like home. His Severus was equally
unforgiving and had always made sure, he was not one of his kin. Harry was only
eleven years old but he could still sense the love burning inside this man. And
although he did not manage to talk to Snape in the first year he took great
comfort by feeling connected to the unreachable figure.
As much as Harry loved being back to any kind of magical world he also had to
face the fact, that Voldemort was a part of it again, and he wanted the boy as
much as he had wanted him in Harry's old life. During the summer he returned to
the Dursleys where he felt strangely safe but lonely and terribly sad. He had
to overcome his fear and talk to Snape somehow, though he did not know how.
***** Chapter 10 *****
                                  Chapter two
 
One
"Severus." the old man whispered. "You can't hide in here forever." he laid a
hand on his shoulder.
Snape had stayed in bed for twelve days now since the boy had disappeared.
"It was not your fault, Severus."
The man did not respond. He had been unable to talk for the last days as if any
word might shatter what remained of his world, his life. The pain was
unbearable.
The old man just sat down, keeping his hand on the frail body and Snape was
grateful for it. Dumbledore murmured sleeping spells and when the tense muscles
relaxed against his hand, he disapparated.
 
 
Two
 
I have searched the deserts and mountains,
the oceans and the woods,
I have called your name a thousand times
but no one answered.
I have cried so many tears
filling the empty pits of all the world.
I have sat in silence for eternity,
unmoving, dead inside.
My love
into what world have you dissappeared?
Why don't you answer my prayer?
 
Severus woke at five. He blinked into the grey mist of early hours and got
slowly up. Sleep had eluded him half of the night, but he managed. Like every
morning he stepped outside his house whispering the same spells.
He asked for the most precious he had ever beheld. Searching spells echoed from
the walls of the houses in Spinners End, dancing with the wind up in the sky,
penetrating every structure. Then he waited, like each morning, for an answer.
But it never came.
The man went back inside. It was the 9th birthday of the boy and Snape lit a
candle much against his usual habit. It warmed his heart a little, which felt
frozen since the day Harry had disappeared.
Severus watched the flame absently. The last year had shaken him to the core,
the feeling of failure swallowing him whole. During the first weeks he had
barely left the house he had moved into after Harry's disappearance, let alone
teaching in Hogwarts. Fortunately, Dumbledore had saved him once more, by
telling people at Hogwarts that Snape was just very ill and needed an extended
rest. Nobody had shed a tear over him, they probably still celebrated his
abscence. Snape did not care.
The young man had taken his time to really start mourning Lily's death. When he
did not stay at home, he visited the grave in Godric's Hollow and talked to
her. The pain would not diminish, but he learned to live with it. He apologized
for failing her, for failing the boy, and over time he began to realise that
there were greater forces who had stolen the people he cared for.
But he refused to give up the boy. Everyday he promised to Lily that he would
find and save him from the Dark Lord. It was like a mantra to keep him in this
world. With his last breath he would call out his name.
Snape returned to the house, absently retrieving the "Daily Prophet" from his
doorsteps when he heard the faint voice.
Mum
He froze and listened carefully. It clearly was a child's voice. A very
familiar one. He ran into the parlor and shouted:
"HARRY!"
Then silence again. The boy was nowhere to be seen. Snape almost believed he
had finally lost his mind.
 
 
Three
 
After another two years of mostly travelling the world in a futile attempt to
find the boy, Snape started to teach again. Hogwarts comforted the hurt and
burdened ones with unmatched devotion. The dungeons soothed his temper, when
pupils wrecked his nerves. The endless corridors with their numerous rooms,
secret doors and moody ghosts spoke to him in their own way, providing him with
comfort in every possible way.
He would not have admitted it until the day a ghost spoke of the boy.
Snape sat in his study, correcting the boring papers of first graders. Their
work was simple and innocently ignorant. Snape hated them all, not for their
ignorance but for being there at all, while his boy, while Harry, should be
among them but his seat was empty.
Yes, today was supposed to be Harrys first day at Hogwarts, and Snape had
feared to break down in front of the entire school, while the sorting hat
called the new pupils into the four houses. Instead, his face remained a stone
mask, while a raging fire burned inside of him. Three years had passed, but
today the pain of loss felt as fresh as on the day the boy had disappeared.
The walls of Snape's room shimmered from the cracking fire in front of him that
made the only sound down here, when a voice rose from a distant.
"He is here."
The man froze and dropped his quill. The fire kept sizzling unperturbed. With
his left hand he secretly fetched the wand from his pocket and cast a revealing
spell only with his mind, but nothing happened.
"Hurry"
Snape rose instantly. The voice was unfamiliar. "Who are you? Reveal thyself!"
And his wand whirled around, as if he wanted to fight the veiled intruder with
a sword.
"Harry"
Harry? Snape fell backwards.
"Where is he?" he asked shakingly.
"He doesn't know. But he is here."
"WHERE IS HE?" Snape screamed, but the voice remained silent now.
The fire cracked a rather large log and Snape returned to the present.
Had he hallucinated over his grief? For a moment, he was not sure.
 
 
Four
 
Harry woke up in a dimly lit room on a couch. Were was he? He looked down at
his body and froze. When was he? He missed not only the usual morning erection,
not that he minded, but he seemed smaller as well. And where did he get these
pyjamas?
He heard footsteps.
They came closer. Harry had no time to wonder about his appearance, because
everything happened so fast. He forgot about his penis and gasped when the door
flew open. It was Professor Snape...
...who fainted as soon as he realised, who sat on his couch.
Harry hurried towards him. What should he do? He touched him. He needed help,
but how should he get some if he did not know what happened? "Professor Snape?"
he asked.
More foorsteps. "Severus?" a woman's voice. Harry hid behind the couch.
A young woman entered the room, rushing to Snape's side. She fetched a wand and
murmured a spell when Snape finally woke up again.
"What happened?" she asked.
The man was blinking the confusion away. "I don't know," feeling around the
room. "It's all right," he said getting up. "You don't need to come here every
time I see a ghost."
Harry's eyes widened. A ghost? He felt as real as ever, though he had no clue
what just happened.
"If you insist." the woman replied with a hint of annoyance and left the room.
 
"You can come out now." Snape said and Harry's heart sank. How did he know? But
he obeyed.
Snape stood very still, watching the boy as if he had not seen him for a long
time.
"Who are you?" Severus asked.
"Harry Potter, sir." he answered truthfully.
Snape came closer. The boy may be older than he remembered but he still looked
like Harry.
The boy sensed a magic tendril reaching for his mind. "Stop that, you have no
right."
"You are not Harry Potter!" Snape hissed "Reveal yourself, imposter!" He
pointed his wand towards the boy.
Harry was stunned. How could he possibly convince his teacher that he was real?
"Where am I?" Harry asked.
"What do you mean? At my house, and I want to know how you got here?" Snape
said, befuddled.
"This is your house?" Harry wondered.
Snape lowered his wand, sensing at least genuine confusion in his counterpart.
"Where have you been before you woke up here?" Snape asked.
"I was at Hogwarts, just starting my third year?"
"Your third year? You do not look like a third grader."
"I didn't until I woke up on your couch. I look like eleven again." Harry said,
remembering the first time he had entered Hogwarts two years ago.
Snape was thinking fast. All he wanted was to embrace the boy but this was not
the Harry he missed. There was no reasonable explanation for this situation.
"Come to my lab, Potter. We will see if we shed some light to all of this."
 
 
Five
 
"A time traveller?" Dumbledore asked, looking into the familiar, yet foreign
eyes.
"There is more. I have tested him for all kinds of masked spells. He is not the
Harrry I raised." Snape said.
Harry looked up. "You? Raising me?" he said unbelievingly. "Why would you do
that? You hate me. The Dursleys raised me. Well, when I say raised..."
Dumbledore came closer. "The Dursleys?"
"Yes!" Harry said.
Dumbledore turned towards Snape. "You were right."
Severus thought about what Harry had said. "I hate you?"
"I don't know what's going on Sir. All I know is, that you all behave
strangely, and I have no clue why." Harry felt numb.
Dumbledore took his arm. "What is the last thing you remember?"
"I was preparing for sleep. In fact, Ron read me a poem he had written for a
girl he had met during the holidays." Harry smiled when he reimagined the
picture. "Though it sounded more like an Ode to Hermione. Then I fell asleep
and woke up on this couch."
Dumbledore turned away, deep in thought. "Whoever sent you may have taken our
Harry to your world?" he finally said.
Harry and Snape stared at the headmaster simultaniously.
"That means he is, we all are, in great danger." Dumbledore concluded.
 
 
Snape sat in front of Harry who clearly was uncomfortable around him. They ate
in silence until Harry could not bear it anymore.
"Why would you raise me of all people?" he asked.
Snape flinched. "I cannot give you this information. I don't know what will
happen if I do." he answered.
"I may look like eleven, sir, but in my mind I'm thirteen, you know. I'm not
stupid." Harry said.
"I know." Snape replied and resumed eating his soup.
"Do you hate me in this world, too?" Harry asked bluntly.
Severus felt caught off guard, carefully evaluating the implication if he
answered this question truthfully, then he said: "He does not hate you, Harry.
Take my word for it." In fact, there was no world where he could really hate
Harry Potter, but for now, this was all Snape was able to reveal.
"What happened to my parents in this world, Professor?" he asked.
Snape looked up. "They were killed, by Voldemort." he said, his face remaining
calm.
Harry felt a sting because the truth was spoken out loud. So, there was no
world where they could have each other. He fell silent.
Later in the evening they just sat together. Harry had agreed to spend time
with the Professor. Snape had said, it would mean a great deal to him just to
be in his presence. Harry had no choice anyway. Dumbledore had made clear, that
Snape was the best protection right now. So he may as well sit with him.
Surprisingly, Harry slowly relaxed and an unknown comfort rose from his
teacher's presence.
He does not hate you.
 
Snape could not sleep. It was just not possible in the presence of Harry
Potter. All his long stored emotions about the boy surfaced at once, finally
demanding salvation.
Harry slept soundly. Eventually, he had drifted into sleep on the couch he had
woken up. Harry wondered what had happened in this world that Snape mourned his
disappearance after all this time.
 
Dumbledore decided that Harry should go to Hogwarts like the other Harry would
have done. He was not happy about it, because inside he was thirteen and two
years ahead of his classmates here. Would there be a Ron? He would not meet him
on the train. Would the sorting head choose him for Slytherin? Harry was not
happy at all.
Still, it was better to be in Hogwarts than Spinner's End all the time. As long
as he had to stay in this world he'd rather be with his friends. So, the next
day he met Ron and Hermione again.
 
 
Six
 
They were all so young. Hermione blabbed away, while Ron looked pretty
confused, and Harry had to hold back, because he already knew them all so well.
After a few days he was best friend with Ron, who seemed an exact copy of his
old mate back home. Hermione played hard to get and lectured the boys about
everything until the day when the troll invaded the toilets of Hogwarts. Harry
was really glad that she became his friend in this world, too.
The year moved on, and Harry pretended to learn what he already knew. In school
Snape played the insufferable git he used to be in Harry's own reality, but in
the evening he became more and more an intimate guardian of the boy,
understanding, caring, almost kind, though he would never admit that. Harry
spent two to three evenings at Spinners End, and the entire weekends. This was
uncommon in Hogwarts, even in this world. Pupils slept in the dorm with the
others, but in this world everybody knew Harry Potter was under Snape's
protection. Severus had finally told Harry most of the story, carefully
avoiding any questions about his motivation and Harry told him about his world,
not knowing that he was a wizard until his 11st birthday.
"You sleep where?" Severus asked at one of these evenings.
"Under the stairs." Harry answered.
Severus turned in disgust. "I will kill these people." he hissed, imagining how
his boy had to live there, unprotected and scorned. In the past he might have
considered that a fair treatment to the son of his worst enemy, but that was a
long time ago. Having two Harrys suffering from that ill fate almost crushed
him.
 
The year went by and it was almost as Harry remembered. Draco was a dickhead,
Gryffindor won the Quidditch match, and the search for the philosopher's stone
led them down into the secret parts of Hogwarts. When they finally had won the
chess match, Harry suddenly felt as if his body was sucked out of time. Harry
saw the door closing and himself moving into the room where Professor Quirrel
awaited him. He looked at his arm, and it seemed transparent. He heard another
voice, a familiar one.
"He is in the map again, Fred." Then it was gone and his arm was fully visible.
After this, something changed. Quirrell seemed oddly content beneath his mask,
as if he felt safe though the events would crush him. Voldemort laughed a bit
too wildly and after all, Harry had not the strong dejavu he had all through
the year.
 
"Something happened, Professor." he said, when both were joined at the dinner
table in Spinner's End.
Snape chewed at the meat in his mouth and discarded the rest. He looked at
Harry expectently.
"I... vanished, for a few seconds, well, almost, not quite." Harry said.
Snape got up a bit too fast. The table reeled. He took a deep breath.
"Professor?" Harry asked alarmed.
"Forgive me." Snape murmured, sitting down again. He had not realised until now
how much he feared Harry might slip away again. "Tell me."
Harry described the incident and what he had heard.
"The Weasley twins?" Snape curled his upper lip.
"Do you know what map they could refer to?" Harry asked.
Snape's eyebrows rose and he made a mental note. "Did the twins talk to you
during your first days in your own world?"
"No, I just talked to Ron, They rather keep to their classmates, making jokes."
Harry replied.
Unlike in this world, as Harry had already found out. Here the Weasley twins
were melancholic boys, brooding and withdrawn. He was confused, but he
understood. Their sister, Ginny, had died in an accident with muggles when she
was four. Harry missed her around here. He remembered a brave and lovely girl
from his world. He had been fond of her affection.
Snape watched him, while he enforced the spells around the house. In the
morning they would go to Dumbledore. They had to move back to Craven's End.
                                       *
The tower was what impressed Harry the most. He felt the humming all inside and
outside his body. A powerful space where he entered the secret life of Severus
Snape and the little boy who had vanished.
Greystone had been a distant memory to Severus Snape, but entering the house
with Harry Potter brought everything back.
He watched him move through the rooms, touching the wall where little Harry's
bed had been standing. It hurt. Harry imagined this little boy here, living
with Snape. He tried to wrap his mind around the fact, that this Harry might
not only have had way more toys and room to play with them, but an environment
where he was raised as a wizard from early on. He envied him.
"What have I done?"
Snape moved towards him. "He wants you dead in this world, too. That's why you
had and have to live with me."
Harry sank into a chair nearby. "I wish I knew what's going on."
"Me, too, but all we can do now is stay in this town." Snape said.
"May I go outside? I'd like to." Harry asked.
"You may." Snape hesitated. "There is a link in this town between the people. I
have shielded you from it so far because it is quite powerful. If you go
outside I must allow it."
Harry turned. "How powerful?"
"You may learn things you better not know. Or vice versa. Are you prepared for
this?"
Harry was frightened. "I don't know."
Snape took his wand. "I will do my best to keep our secrets from one another."
Harry nodded and Snape waved his wand.
At first he wanted to vomit. Thankfully, he already sat. Snape stood by his
side, waving and murmuring restlessly. Slowly, Harry regained control again.
The voices changed from an overwhelming chatter into a beautiful backround
choir that strangely soothed him. He had never loved more, being a wizard.
 
They slept in separate rooms, Harry downstairs in the little maiden chamber. He
wanted a small space far away from little Harry's old bedroom in Greystone. He
felt like an intruder, and at the same time he marvelled at the intimate
relationship between his parallel-world Professor and the boy from this world.
Harry stared at the ceiling again, and an image of a dark haired girl from
fourth grade came into his mind. He felt a stirring but still nothing much
happened down there. Touching his penis almost felt like molesting himself. He
hated being eleven. Harry had to go back to his old life. He prayed for it.
 
 
Seven
 
"How long will you keep me here?" Harry asked after a few unspectacular days in
Craven's End.
Snape looked at him. He really needed to make an effort not to stare at the boy
for too long. He had to admit, that he wanted to keep him here forever. The
voices of the town helped Snape to cope with the confusion, the fear and told
him to let go of the boy. Harry was travelling through a rift opened between
all worlds. That sounded like science fiction but only to muggles. Wizards with
enough power could open such rifts, send all parallel versions of you through
all these worlds and absorb a person wholly over time. Everyday the traveller
lost coherence in the false world until nothing was left. That was exactly what
Voldemort was doing. Dumbledore had told them. They must go to the tower.
Voldemort had already tampered with time and space so much that the rift
threatened the whole world, all worlds.
"I have spoken to Professor Dumbledore. Since I am your guardian, there is one
way we can stop Voldemort." Snape said and told him how.
Harry stared at him in shock.
"You are the one who can destroy Voldemort." Snape added.
Destroy Voldemort? How in the name of Merlin should he kill the strongest
wizard that had ever lived?
"I know, Harry. You don't believe me. It was not yet time to tell you, but
things have changed. He may destroy you first, if we don't act."
Harry trembled, but not from the news Snape had given him. The rift, again,
made his stomach twist, and the colour of his face turned to white. "I can't."
His eyes fluttered and he sank down. Snape rushed towards him, gripping the
limp body and raising him to his chest. He shut his eyes, pressing the tears
inward and screaming "my boy!" in his mind.
 
Dumbledore sat in the big chair near the fireplace. Snape entered the room. "He
sleeps now." he said.
Dumbledoore stared at the flames. "We don't have much time, Severus. Harry will
soon get weaker. The next phase of transparency will come in the next hours."
Snape sat beside him. "I cannot do this, headmaster."
"I know," Albus said emphatically. "but the other choice is to loose him, loose
all this, too."
"Is there no other way?"
Dumbledore gazed at him. "Listen to me, Severus. Harry is our second chance to
save this world. We might not agree with it, but there is no other option left,
or we must succumb to Voldemorts dominance." Dumbledore paused.
Snape stared into the fire again. His thoughts raced. "All right." Snape said
and got up. Dumbledore watched him leave, sighing deeply, cursing the actions
of his past.
***** Chapter 11 *****
                                 Chapter three
 
 
one
 
The second schoolyear, in the world where the Dursleys still existed, had some
surprises in store for Harry. He learned, that he was able to speak Parsel, the
language of snakes, but that was nothing compared to the wet dreams of a boy in
a twelf year old body. Harry was really just nine but he had to put up with
this puberty crap. If he only could talk to someone. He had tortured his brain
over scenarios how to approach the Snape in his world. Now the professor
observed him even closer after the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again.
Harry was still terrified of the professor. One afternoon he sat in his
detention class. It had just been a cylinder with an explosive potion. Yes, and
it broke and yes, there was a lot of smoke but nothing Snape could not handle
instantly by waving his wand. What were emergency protocol spells for?
Still, he got some extra work on a perfect autumn afternoon right in Snape's
study. Harry felt Snape's gaze. He tried to seem resentful but Harry felt
something almost protective and tender about Snape's manner.
"Concentrate on your work, Potter." Snape hissed "unless you wish for more."
Harry looked at his paper again. While writing words and numbers, his hand
seemed transparent all of a sudden. He threw his pen away and gasped.
Snape looked up. "What is..." he broke mid sentence and froze.
"Professor, what is happening?" Harry asked and his eyes gleamed of terror.
Snape fetched his wand but it was torn right out of his hand. He shut his eyes,
expanding his hand. "Expecto patronum" he shouted and white lines of little
stars formed an animal. It was a doe.
Harry felt weakening. His body flickered like a dying lamp in and out of this
world. The doe approached and spread a kind of forcefield around him. His body
slowly solidified again.
Snape ran from the room without a word, but Harry was safe in the doe's
presence. The deer seemed oddly familiar. Not so much the shape, but the energy
it emanated. His body was fully visible again, he felt stronger.
Minutes later Snape arrived with Dumbledore. The doe still stood there,
protecting the boy. Hopefully, it was not his fault.
"Who are you?" Dumbledore asked and Harry sighed.
The time had come to tell his story.
 
 
 
two
 
"I do what?" Snape's face had frozen to a mask.
Harry was amused but did not laugh. He knew this face, and usually Severus wore
it when he was taken by surprise. Laughing about it had brought Harry into
serious trouble back in his world.
"You are my guardian. I lived with you since I was a toddler. " Harry repeated.
Dumbledore walked past the Professor and his hand padded Snape's arm.
"And why is that?" the old man asked.
Harry lowered his gaze, remembering the embarrasing conversation about his
mother. He was not even sure whether it was a good idea to tell them
everything. So he decided for a middle way.
"Because you are the only wizard in my world who can truly protect me, mostly."
he said.
"Mostly?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, sometimes we had to live at Craven's End" Harry added.
Snape came out of his shock when he heard the name of the town. He approached
Dumbledore, whispering in his ear.
"Yes, Severus, but when he knows about Craven's End, we might as well listen to
the whole story." Dumbledore said.
Snape retreated.
 
Harry told them about his time with Snape, school and how he had woken up one
day, hitting his head under the stairs of the Dursleys. "They are dead in my
world. No family left where I could be protected. So I lived with you."
"And how exactly am I able to protect you so well?" Snape asked.
Harry inhaled deeply. Was he allowed to tell? Was it right? Snape's question
left no room to swerve "With your love for my mother."
Snape tumbled backwards. Dumbledore caught him. Harry did not seem to be
surprised. "Professor, what is happening to me?" He asked, still standing there
under the patronus shield.
Dumbledore turned to Snape. "We have to get him where my counterpart has
brought him. You will go with him, Severus!"
"I can't, headmaster."
"Oh, you can. I will investigate the matter. I fear, Voldemort plays a vital
part in this. As long as we don't know why the boy is switching worlds, we have
to protect him."
Snape growled. In this world Craven's End was a prison for the intellectuals,
whose magic had become so dangerous it had to be shielded from others. It was
only known to a few people and to the inmates, who never left this place again.
When Voldemort had become too dangerous, it was already too late to imprison
him, so he never learnt of its existence.
"I will call the headwitch as an escort. Her patronus is strong enough to move
Harry there." Snape said. He had to give in to Albus. The boy did not know of
the contract between the two man. He was not supposed to.
 
 
Three
 
Arriving in Craven's End was like coming home for Harry. It was strange. On one
hand he felt safe again, on the other hand everything that terrified him came
back, too. This Craven's End was an odd place and Snape worked hard to shield
Harry from the town's communication net. It might damage him, he had said. The
headwitch denied that, but Snape did not believe her. In fact, he was afraid of
the witches, because their powers were unimaginably strong. Nevertheless, he
eventually gave in to them, because his head was about to explode. Maybe Harry
was safe here for awhile.
Harry walked beside Snape, silently. His own Snape did not talk much either,
but at least, he was fond of Harry. This one hated him for some reason. Harry
felt cold.
They were invited into the mainhouse. Guestquarters got prepared, and they
moved into a two room apartment. Snape had protested, but Dumbledore's orders
were clear. Stay together at all time.
"Go to sleep, Potter." Snape said when supper had been finished.
"Why do you hate me, Professor?" Harry asked.
Snape looked at him and said nothing. How could he ever begin? "Go."
 
The night was cool. Harry could not sleep. The hours flew by, while he was
brooding over Voldemorts intentions. Suddenly, he heard a sound, like a voice.
Did it come from the town's net? It seemed close and not at all in his head. He
got up slowly and walked towards the curtain that separated their rooms. A
light flickered from a table. It was Snape. Did he cry?
"Go back to bed, Potter." he hissed.
"I can't." the boy said. "I'm afraid."
Snape remained silent, though he wanted to yell at Harry Potter so much,
telling him about his father who never cared about how much he hurt him. But
Snape could not. As much as he tried to overpower his love for Lily with the
hate for James, it did not work. He got up, took his lamp and walked over to
the boy.
He stopped right in front of him, looking down, lifting the lamp and lighting
Harry's face. It was the first time they stood that close, and Snape cursed the
moment forever. Harry had her eyes.
Calm outwardly, he murmured a sleeping spell and sent the boy back to sleep.
Inside he was screaming.
 
The next day Dumbledore visited them. He sat down in the big chair of the
living room. Soon after the headwitch arrived.
Snape shot her a contemptuous look.
"Sit, both of you. Mrs Hain will explain what happens." Dumbledore said.
"Is it necessary to involve her?" Snape asked, fixating the witch with his
gaze.
They shared a silent look.
"Severus, they are on our side."
Snape nodded briefly and sat down next to Harry.
Mrs Hain opened a screen with moving pictures and explained what happened.
"The worlds have opened, and the boy is sent through them." A moving draft
illustrated the outcome of the procedure, and Snape got colder each moment.
There was only one wizard who would temper with the fabric of life in this way.
When Snape had agreed to protect Harry Potter he could not have conceived of
the length Voldemort was ready to go to destroy him.
"He won't be safe here for long." Mrs. Hain said. "Voldemort has opened a rift
that will suck the pattern of the boy through all shields, all protection."
"Is there anything we can do?" Dumbledore asked.
"If he doesn't return to his world soon, he will destabilize totally." she
said. "but that is the problem. Voldemort has found a way to send him because
he is the master of the boy's energy pattern. If we could change it..."
Snape sprang from his seat. "Then the rift collapses."
"Yes, but there is another problem. When we change Harry's pattern, while he
resides in the wrong world, he will be stuck here forever and the worlds will
collapse."
Dumbledore walked up and down, thinking. "We would have to synchronize the
process but how?" He stopped. "Mrs Hain, isn't the tower of Craven's End a
beacon who connects the worlds?"
"Well, yes. It allows Craven's End to exist that way by channelling the power
of the worlds into this fixed point of reality." she said.
"So, the tower could help us?" Dumbledore asked, but she averted her gaze to
the window. It dawned on her what the old wizard had in mind.
 
They brought them to the tower. The hum was killing Snape.
"It contains all knowledge, but nobody is strong enough to know everything. So,
it is dangerous to use it. We can do nothing but trust its judgement, whether
we like the outcome or not." Mrs Hain explained.
"We have no other choice." Dumbledore said, releasing the boy from his hands
and handing him over to the witch with a reassuring smile. Harry nodded
bravely.
"The tower will inform the worlds of our plan, from the moment Harry enters the
inner force field." the witch said.
"How will the other Snapes and Harrys know how to alter the boy's pattern?"
Dumbledore asked.
The witch turned to Snape. "They already do."
Snape said nothing. Of course they knew. The witches of all worlds knew and so
did he, since the thoughts of altering Harry's energy patterns had entered the
communication of Craven's End. Snape woould melt with Harry on the point of all
worlds, on the platform in the force field, so his pattern could change.
The field cracked, Dumbledore receded. The witch cast a last spell around
Severus and the boy, and together they entered the force field.
 
 
                                 Chapter five
 
The Tower knew.
The worlds had led Harry Potter and Severus Snape to its infinite wisdom. When
the boy and the man entered the forcefield, the Tower closed the rift.
Both wizards together in the magic circle of the tower was enough to collapse
Voldemort's scheme for the time being.
The Tower shut down, but a promise was made, because Voldemort was not dead.
***** Chapter 12 *****
                                   Part_III
                              All_roads_lead_here
 
                                  Chapter one
 
one
 
"This is so wrong!"
Harry swept the blanket off his body in an instant. Panting and sweating he sat
straight up in his bed.
"What's wrong?" A mumble rose from the bed near by and strings of red hair
shimmered in the faint morning light. With it came Ron Weasley, who blinked
half asleep and slightly annoyed.
"Just a bad dream." Harry murmured. "Sorry for waking you up, Ron." his
breathing evening out. "It's alright."
Ron made himself comfortable again and mumbled: "I love you man, but stop
yelling at this time of day." Then he was off to sleep again.
Harry smiled. "Love you, too." he whispered and lay down carefully, trying to
ban the images from his recent dream, but he still felt haunted by them.
Flashes of dark light mocking his eyes, clouding his view through the heavy
curtains in the Gryffindor dormitory windows. Pictures leaping over from his
halfsleep.
Harry shuddered. What did they mean? He didn't even dare to think about it. His
breath sounded almost normal now. But sleep avoided him until the waking call
an hour later...
 
The potions master dressed in one of his countless black robes, carefully
buttoning the dark clothes, watching the fragile body and soul vanish under the
delicate masquerade. His hair hang losely around his aged face, presenting a
rather wild and puzzled frame. He trimmed it until he felt comfortable with it,
though “comfortable“ was no word Severus Snape used to adress himself.
He looked into the mirror and noticed the paleness of his skin. It pleased him.
He had told himself for years that when he only could perish all feelings of
happiness inside he would be save. Safe from love's sting, inside a dark cave
where his soul had fled since he had been a boy.
Every morning he tried to smile. It felt like a touch of the Crutiatus spell to
his body when he saw his lips still twitching into an upright position. He
longed for the day when his mouth would remain unmoved or even pointing
downwards.
Today was not the day. He mourned.
But not for long. He only needed to think about James Potter and a feeling of
rage and hatred froze his lips. His eyes sparkled like black, hot coals. He
felt home, home in the darkness of his lifelong misery. That was all what's
left and he cherished, he nurtured it.
He left for breakfest.
 
Harry sat at the breakfest table and did not really know what he ate. Hermione
and Ron were immersed in private chatter. Harry did not care. He stared into
nothing when Hermione's voice dragged him back into reality.
"Harry, where are you?" she asked, watching him closely all of a sudden.
"Well..." Harry returned with an awkward feeling of being caught. "just
thinking... about the day." he managed to come up with.
Hermione shook her head and focused on Ron again. Harry decided to concentrate
on his breakfest, listening with half an ear what Ron was chatting about, when
a familiar black robed figure entered the hall.
Harrys heart leapt, as always, but ususally he felt a ring of ice encircling
his heart when Professor Snape entered his sight. Today disturbing images were
mixed with his fear that had strangely changed a bit to excitement.
 
Nobody seemed to notice Snape except for Ginny, who watched him with a
frightened expression in her eyes. Harry felt sorry for her. Snape teased the
girl at every possible occasion, like he teased all the Weasley kids. Ron hated
Snape as did his twin brothers. Fred and George had spent more time in Snape's
detention than anyone else. They actually prided themselves for this. The twins
just liked being recognised even if connected to such obscure fame.
Harry observed his thoughts wandering to why Snape hated the Weasleys so much.
He loved to think of them as his own family. Molly Weasley emanated an aura of
care and love that always tugged him into a sweet, soft feeling of maternal
affection. Harry could feel the warmth soothing him just by thinking about her.
That was it. Love... Snape radiated many things but love was not among them.
Harry got lost again watching the potions master from afar. A fragile string of
sorrow stirred his heart. He could not say why.
 
 
two
 
"Severus!"
Snape turned his head in surprise...and met... the face of Harry Potter!
For an instant their eyes beheld each other and Snape fell into a remote
picture of his past and gasped.
*Lily*.
Snape braced himself. Thank Merlin he was already standing close to a pillar,
so nobody noticed the tremble of his legs. Severus Snape had never been
prepared for the unexpected look into the boy's face.
All this happened in just a split second. Harry had quickly lowered his gaze
while walking past him.
Then Snape realised who had called his name.
"Headmaster!" he replied, steadying his posture.
Dumbledore approached him from a far corner of the gallery.
"Do come into my office after your last lesson, will you?" Dumbledore asked.
Snape nodded obediently, and when he turned to the spot, where he had seen
these eyes, it was empty. He straightened himself, but inside he witnessed a
deep sigh. Why after all these years could he not hate Harry Potter the way he
had hated his father? This question of course was just rhetorical. He had known
the answer since the day he had first met the boy.
He headed for class.
But the day seeemed cursed, as if a dark wizard had hexed it. Snape appreciated
a sad day but he was not sad right now, nor could he muster the comfortable
amount of anger to torture his students today. They all did quite well, no
injuries from badly mixed potions, not even a little explosion. Indeed, the
wizarding world must have conspired against him. His lips were twitching that
it hurt his face.
 
Last lesson of the day.
Snape feared to enter the classroom. There he sat. The boy. Who was not a boy
anymore. When did he notice it first? Severus could not remember. He had
avoided the eyes of Harry Potter quite effectively, as long as the brat was too
small to enter the level of Snape's sight. But this year he could not deny him
anymore. Potter was 16 years old now and had grown right into his face.
His head ached when he closed the door.
Harry concentrated on his potion while drinking in the tension building
constantly in the room. He could always feel it. There was no lesson where he
felt as uncomfortable as in Potions. Snape wandered around approaching the
Slytherin table. Harry looked up, watching Draco Malfoy sucking up to Snape,
eyes full of slimy affection. The dark figure smirked awkwardly. Harry's gaze
lingered on him. ... as if Snape was in pain.
Pain.
Images shooting all of a sudden through his memory. Harry gasped, overwhelmed
by the unsettling emotions. He looked around. No one had noticed, he realised
assuaged. No one but the man in black.
Snape had abandoned the Slytherin table, looking at Harry openly. Then, as if
he had realised that he was staring at one of his students, his face shifted
into a mask of the usual anger. Among it Harry spotted...concern?
In a second the expression vanished from Snapes face, while he was stalking the
room towards the boy.
"Are we finished, yet, Potter?" he asked cooly, not able to ban the hint of
concern in his face entirely.
"No, Sir." Harry replied, turning to his cauldron, pretending to being busy.
Snape dismissed the opportunity to insult him further. Instead, he simply went
away, just leaving an intense glare between them. People around him noticed and
murmured.
Harry could not stop himself from smiling a bit. What in Merlins name had
happened?
 
At lunch the Gryffindor boys teased him.
"Hey, what did you do to Snape? He almost kissed your ass down there." Harry
lowered his head, unexpectedly embarrased. Usually he was always in for a good
joke about Snape but the picture in his mind that had tortured him since
morning hurt him instead.
Ron noticed Harry's uneasiness and jumped to his rescue immediately.
"Leave him alone, Seamus, will ya. Worry about your own ass kissing." That was
rather harsh, Harry thought, but he was grateful. Seamus looked stunned.
Harry was happy about Ron being his best friend. He padded his back and the red
haired boy smiled at him triumphantly.
 
"Come in." the old man shouted from inside.
Snape entered the studyroom. His thoughts lingered on the picture of an alarmed
Harry Potter, looking up from his cauldron while a shot of pain had run through
Snape's body. As if he had felt it.
Snape looked at Dumbledore.
"We have been summoned, Severus."
                                   Chapter 2
 
 
one
 
He had never been to Craven's End.
Witches ran the place, who seemed oddly content to Snape's taste. It seemed, as
if they shared a mental bond that made them smile sheepishly. Snape did not
hear nor feel anything. In the middle of the town there stood an old, blackened
tower.The Great Event had robbed it off its power, they said. What was he
supposed to do here?
The witches guided the two men to the town house. The fashion of the interior
was sickening to Snape, but he kept silent, unsure what was expected of him.
Dumbledore seemed familiar with this place and their inhabitants. One of the
many secrets of the headmaster, Snape supposed. They sat down.
The witches spoke of old times and a promise. It was time to fulfill it. Snape
sighed internally. He hated secrets as long as they were not his own. So his
mouth twitched just a bit, while Dumbledore nodded ceaselessly.
"Professor Snape?" the witch now spoke to him directly. "Has the mourning
increased?" she asked bluntly.
Severus' head swam suddenly. Mourning? How could she? What did they? To his
surprise another witch said. "It has."
Snape sprang from his seat. Dumbledore seized his arm, urging him to sit down.
"What are they saying, headmaster?"
"You have been here before, Severus." Dumbledore replied gently, "but we had to
supress your memory."
Snape sunk into his chair. So the confusion of the last days may made sense
after all. "What memory?" he asked.
The witches formed a ring and invited him inside. "We will answer your
questions but you must swear not to break the circle, no matter what."
Snape looked at Dumbledore, who suddenly seemed very old and tired. He nodded
in encouragement and Severus turned toward the witches.
"You need not fear this. Go to sleep and we will bring you home."
 
 
two
 
Snape suddenly woke up in his bed in Hogwarts. The fire was dimmed. The last
flames danced on a dying log.
He looked at the picture of Shana Vain, the first halfblood witch teaching in
Hogwarts, who sat there on a small chair, watching the scene of Buckington
Hollow. Lily had given it to him when he aspired to be a teacher himself. It
hurt every single time he looked at it, because this painting said so much
about how well Lily had known him. The woman was moving. She always did.
Turning towards him, waving her hand, as if she wanted to encourage him every
day to face this life he had chosen. Now something had changed.
"Severus."
"Who is there?"
"It's me, Shania."
"Shania? You never speak."
"The witches speak through me."
Snape sat up. He remembered instantly. The room, the circle, Craven's End.
"You have been brave, Severus."
" I'm a coward." He looked away.
"Not anymore."
"What do you want?"
"I desire nothing, but the world needs your help."
"I despise the world!"
"There is one you cannot hate."
Snape was stunned.
"Go to him."
Silence.
"Fulfill the promise that was made three years past. A life with the boy for a
world safe from Voldemort."
The name hit Severus hard. Energy rippled through his body that brought new
memories with each wave. A cruel wizard, a desperate life and a promise.
*Lily* and the boy she had died for, who died now if he was not there.
"Allow him to share your pain," she said tenderly. "He is burning from hurt and
loneliness, like you. You both have lost the love of the same woman. You both
can connect through it and become the strongest beacon of this world against
Voldemort."
"But he was defeated." Snape said after all.
"No. It was a borrowed freedom because you did not alter Harry's energy pattern
permanently. He will return and try to kill him again, unless you fulfill the
promise."
Snape did not look up. He dared not showing his face so deranged even to that
portrait of Shana Vain, who now just sat in the chair again, silent, watching
the scene of Buckington Hollow. Snape remembered the contract they had made
ages ago with the tower and he feared to leave the bed.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Notes
     Well, this will be the chapter with the Explicit Material. You have
     been warned. If you are not comfortable with a slightly underage
     Harry having sex with Snape, don't read it!
                                 Chapter three
 
 
one
 
Harry sat in Potions detention class, again. It was the third time this week.
He wrote an essay on wolfsbane potion, history, ingredients and precautions,
five pages. There had not even been a transgression, but Snape would not let
him off the hook this week. First the missing Potion's book, then a minor
accident with Ron and his potion (which resulted in Harry scrubbing 28
cauldrons without any cleaning spell but good old curd soap), at last, he had
just uttered two words towards Hermione and that was why he wrote these five
pages now.
Still, Harry wondered. Snape usually ignored him while Harry went on with his
imposition, but this week he seemed to observe him - not with his eyes but with
his mind. The Occlumency lessons were still raw in Harry's memory. Right now
was no invasion, just tendrils of energy, clearly coming from the man across
the room.
"Are we finished, Potter?" the harsh voice interrupted his musings. "Or are you
dreaming?"
Harry felt caught, though he was not aware of any wrong doing. Snape turned in
the opposite direction and Harry could clearly feel how his mental presence
shifted.
He thought of his dream from the morning, vividly. Snape turned around
abruptly.
Harry put his pen away and handed Snape the essay. "I hope you approve." he
said to clear the air of confusing thoughts.
It worked. Snape got distracted and looked at it. "Fine." he hissed through his
teeth. "Go!"
How could he talk to the boy? The next night changed everything.
 
 
 
two
 
At two am the school was in uproar. A chrashing noise had awakened half of
Hogwarts and soon the staff got busy with evacuating the pupils to the
dungeons. All school Personel and pupils had to retreat underground, when
Hogwarts got exposed to the Muggle world.
Hogwarts looked quite different to the Muggle eye without the spells, even at
night, and with all the modern surveillance technology they had to perform the
evacuation at the same time as during the day.
Though this time it was not muggles who disturbed them.
 
"Harry!"
The boy rushed to the window. He knew this voice - it was in his head. He tried
occlumency spells, but they did not work. His feet felt thin, literally.
 
"To the dungeons!" the prefects called, watching over the procedure, counting
their intrusted host of children.
Harry fetched his wand. It was not allowed in this kind of situation but he
felt safer with it, nobody would notice. His feet returned to a strength where
he could keep up with his classmates while descending to the underground of his
school.
 
"Where is the boy?"
Dumbledore had stopped Snape in the lower corridors. Severus wore this cold
mask of action in the face of danger, real danger.
"Do you hear me, Severus?"
That was the moment Snape realised, that the headmaster spoke to him. He had
been totally consumed by occlumenting the invader who called the boy.
Distressfully, he could not block the unwelcomed presence in its entirety. And
how could he? Voldemort had found Harry and opened the worlds again. Their time
had run out.
"Severus, you need to take him away, fulfill your task." Dumbledore said, while
a relentless stream of children hurried past them. He stood close to the
Potions Master and Snape nodded.
He flew away, forgetting about Dumbledore, only searching for Harry. He knew
where to find him.
 
The corridors emptied. The evacuation was almost complete.
Snape went for Dumbledore's office. The walls had lost coherence here. It was
the weakest point to Voldemorts terror. He could easily feel the presence of
his own memories, caught and stored away around Dumbledore's pensieve. The
worlds had opened here with a crashing sound. At the door leaned Harry Potter,
incoherent himself, drifting away, again. Close to the reopened rift Snape
rememebred the worlds he had wandered with the boy, experienced their flight
again, the agony and the confusion.
Harry did not recognise him. He had been too weak already. Voldemort could
almost hear the sweet melody of triumph and so did Snape. He could give in, he
might even get another chance in a world with Voldemort as a leader. A dark
world, a place he always desired, free from pain, from all emotions.
Harry sighed, and Snape was waking up because that tiny spark of love in his
soul, that could not be purged, had caught fire.
Snape enclosed his wand. There was a powerful spell he had only used once in
all worlds. He stepped closer to the young man and performed it.
 
The noise had stopped. Harry raised his head. The wall he had leaned against
was gone, but there stood a familiar figure. It was just a shadow of the man he
used to know but at the same time he felt completely surrounded by his
presence. Harry was inside Snape's mind, more so, he had taken him in, totally,
hiding him from the world, all worlds. Harry was scared but at the same time he
marvelled at the power Snape possesed. What enabled him to perform this kind of
magic?
The figure moved and Harry felt warm fingers encircle his own and then he heard
his voice.
"It was the only way. Otherwise we might all be dead."
"And you chose me?"
Here, inside Snape, there were no secrets, all boundaries useless. "Yes."
Harry felt like coming home.
T
hey would not remember this conversation, because the spell only worked for the
time being, but it comforted Harry that this realm existed, even if he forgot
about it in the outside world. They would only remember the outcome of their
sharing but never know how it came about.
The power of the spell subsided and the wall reappeared. It had solidified, so
did Harry's presence. Snape took his hand and they both could apparate.
 
                                 Chapter four
 
one
 
"I have been here." Harry said. He walked along the tower wall.
"In many worlds." Snape concluded.
The black stones felt blunt beneath his fingertips, while he moved them over
the surface, lost in memories. There was a mental echo in his mind, voices of
women, witches. They had once talked to him. He remembered the sound of their
chatter or rather a well organised symphony of thoughts.
"Have you been here, too?" he asked Snape.
The man nodded and lowered his gaze.
"Why are we here?" Harry asked.
"To save the world." Snape murmured and fell silent again.
Harry stopped and felt he was done wondering.
All the strange events in the past, the shared moments of silence, the lessons
and the tenderness he sensed, though no one was around. The whole time he felt
like Snape was hiding something under this rage and hatred. His eyes were as
dark as the deepest night, though Harry did not feel intimidated anymore but
strangely drawn and protected by them. Something had happened and he could not
remember what it was, but Snape obviously did. Which part was he supposed to
play to "save the world"?
"Won't you talk to me?" he asked.
"I hate you." Snape whispered and turned away.
"I know." Harry answered. "But I also know that there is no hate without love."
Snape looked up, trying to muster this cold mask one more time. "You think you
are clever, Potter. But youth is foolish and arrogant, reciting phrases one
accidentally picked up not comprehending their depth."
Harry remained calm and said: "You are not here to threaten me."
Snape snarled in his best manner, but it was useless. He closed his eyes. Damn
the stupid boy! Harry had no clue in this world about the truth of Severus
Snape and Lily Evans and Snape was not at all willing to talk about her. What
was it to Harry Potter how he felt?
Everything, of course!
The world could be saved, if he could come clean. That he had loved her, that
he still did by loving her son. That this was the only way to stop Voldemort
this time. Severus carried all the love neccessary to destroy him, but only, if
he would be brave enough to admit his feelings and join with Harry into an
unbreakable bond.
Harry might be shocked, disgusted or worse, run away, hiding from the molester
who earlier had lusted after his mom. He wasn't anything like that, but maybe
Harry saw it this way in his confusion. All he had to do was to say it out loud
in this world too, but he could not.
"Your mother...I have..." Severus started, but the words would not come out.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Snape flinched because he could not
remember the last time someone had touched him.
"I miss her, too." Harry began. "Every day." He withdrew his hand and
retreated. "It drives me crazy that I cannot remember her. I was too small."
Snape froze. What on earth did the boy know about them? "What do you mean,
Potter?" he hissed.
"I had a dream." Harry said. "Ever since we came here, I knew it wasn't merely
a dream. It was the truth."
Snape looked at him. "What truth?"
Harry knew it would not be easy to open up to him, but the time had come for
getting stripped to the bones in front of the only human beeing who had loved
his mother and still lived.
"It's okay." Harry simply stated.
Snape swallowed. “It's cold. Maybe in one of the houses we can lit a fire.”
They both left the tower and walked towards a grey house. It did not matter,
where they would share their stories and approach the truth, but both felt
comfortable, almost safe, here in Craven's End.
 
 
two
 
The house was empty, but the rooms contained the strangest interior. Harry felt
warm. Snape disrobed and sat in the armchair. Harry examined every piece lying
around. There was a tea set resting on the table, shelves with books quite like
a small library. And there were toys, neatly placed in a cupboard.
It all looked so familiar though they still felt out of place, but all they
needed was already here. A room and an atmosphere to open up.
"You already know." Snape began.
Harry remained silent.
"But not all of it." Snape got up.
"Not all?" Harry asked reluctantly
"...that will be demanded to fuflfill the promise..."
"What promise?"
Snape walked towards the door. "To protect you, meant to protect the world, but
it was not enough."
Harry had dreamt about Snape as a guardian many times. He had dreamt about
being very close to him against all odds. He was afraid to think about this,
let alone talk about it to his friends. In the waking hours his mind demanded
to hate Snape, but at night a voice told another story, and it had soothed him,
though he had never admitted this. Now it surfaced unexpectantly in this room
on the brink of the world's end.
Snape felt the boy's turmoil. The air seemed to thicken as if something
shifted.
"His voice is so quiet now." Harry said.
Snape inhaled deeply. The promise. There was no turning back. "Do you remember
anything from another life, Harry?" he asked.
Harry looked at him. "There was a boy, who lived here, protected by a man who
loved him but would not concede it."
Snape gasped at this bluntness, but Harry held his gaze.
"I can read it in your eyes. I can hear it in my mind louder each minute,
because his voice is dying. We have to fulfill what you could not have done
three years ago, because you were afraid to hurt me. Just stepping on the
platform together was not enough." Harry answered and walked towards him.
Snape wanted to run. He craved Harry's touch but was afraid of it all the same.
If the boy touched him, Snape could no longer be Snape. He had to lay down his
mask, standing naked before the world. He would cease to exist. And then what?
A very clear picture of Voldemort passed his inner eye and fell away.
When he opened his eyes, Harry Potter stood right in front of him. He swept his
finger across the man's cheek, removing a strand of black, long hair from the
pale face. Severus shivered. The boy was pure tenderness to him, had always
been from the first moment he had looked into his green eyes. His private
purgatory had meant to be with him but always at a distance.
Severus had resisted to imagining his touch all the time in all worlds. It was
not right. And would Harry not find a girl one day whom he made love to, become
a father and settle into the ordinary life he so much deserved, that Snape was
never meant to have? Was he allowed to desire him? He was his teacher. So he
had told himself all these years like a mantra.
"Severus." Harry whispered.
"Yes." the man's voice failed.
"You are not my father."
Their eyes met. Snapes fingers trembled. His heart ached from all the cold
words that had built the walls around him. His lifelong safety was a heap of
ruins now.
Severus lifted his hand and Harry lay his face into it. He sighed. Touching him
like that seemed already too much. Harry covered Snapes hand and kissed the
palm. Then they fell into a very long embrace. Harry took deep breaths of
Snape's odour, a mixture of carefully cleaned clothes, old books and the earth
between the dungeon walls. Harry opened his eyes. Suddeny he remembered being a
young boy. And the boy knew Snape's scent. Harry looked up into Severus's eyes.
"We have been here." Harry whispered.
"Yes." Severus said.
"I remember everything." Harry released himself from Snape's arms. "You raised
me here in this house."
Snape inhaled deeply. "It was not enough."
He took the man's hand."I know. His voice is still in my head."
Snape saw the little boy, screaming because of the pain Voldemort inflicted in
him. It was time to end all this, to end fear and the numbing feeling of
stagnancy.
 
Severus pulled Harry close. Their breaths mingeled. Then he carefully touched
Harry's upper lip with his own, tasting the sweet perfume of the boy he had
been so familiar with all these years.
Finally...
Their lips entwined in a symphony of caress and longing, exploring a world that
always seemed so close but farther apart than all the worlds they had lived in.
They kissed like new born lovers, fueling the fire of the ancient promise:
"That love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies." Snape felt
Harry's magic easily interfusing with his own on a level they both had never
experienced. The men moved in a strange harmony.
Their lips parted and their eyes met again, dark and alive.
"What are we doing?" Snape asked in a deep, heavy voice, pulsing through
Harry's body.
"Saving the world, Severus." the boy answered with a smirk on his face. He
waved his wand and a fire went on in the fireplace of the room. Then he slowly
started unbuttoning Snapes undercoat.
Through the waves of guilt and arousal, Snape stopped the boys hand. "Don't!"
he managed to say, desperately trying to breathe regularly.
"Are you afraid?" Harry asked.
Snape almost smiled. "No. But you may be." he said softly.
Harry hesitated. He had never dared to imagine that he could be so close to
Snape. Of course he feared all kinds of things, but there was no turning back.
The voice of Voldemort was almost silent now.
"Take out your wand." Severus said, getting his own. "This will make it easier
for you."
Harry's look was unsteady.
"Trust me." Severus added.
The young man complied. Snapes wand released a string of frail gold searching
for the tip of Harry's wand.
"Close your eyes now." the man demanded softly.
Harry did.
Like a net, building up from one point, the magic spread around them and
eventually through them. It was the spell from Dumbledore's office. Their magic
had melted completely and he could not tell why he had feared this moment at
all.
"Are you ready for this, Harry?" Snape asked and his words seemed to waft
through a haze of time and space, reaching the boys heart directly.
"Yes."
Slender but strong hands pulled the boy close, his head resting against Severus
cheek. He kissed the boy's ears, carefully inch by inch - Harry's eyes shut
tight. He did not want to return to his life again. A moan escaped his mouth as
a matter of course.
Snape did not know how long he could hold back. He just wanted to devour him
wholly and never let go of him again.
Their heads touched and black hair mingled, that nobody could tell where tone
of them began and the other one ended. Snape inhaled Harry's scent like an
intoxicating perfum. He could die just doing this. He tried not to think of
Harry's eyes, Lily's eyes.
"I am not my mother, either." Harry pressed forward, his eyes still closed.
Of course, the link. Severus looked at him.
"There is no secret you can hide anymore." Harry said calmly and he was right.
"Pardon me." Severus answered with a touch of sarcasm but a smile fiddled at
the corners of his mouth.
Harry shook his head. "I cannot forgive you as long as you can't forgive
yourself," he said with a grave expression.
Snape watched him for a moment. "Are you trying to save me, Potter?"
Harry laughed at the familiar remark. "I guess." he replied with slight
tension.
Severus approached him again. This time he kissed the young man passionately.
He would soon know about Severus Snape making love.
Harry resumed unbuttoning Severus' coat. The buttons resisted the unknown hands
bravely, so Severus helped a bit. Harry managed and slid a shaking hand under
the black vest past the white shirt and met bare skin. They both gasped at the
sudden sensation.
Raw desire surfaced in both men. Snape's hands wandered down Harry's spine. His
fingers traced some scar tissue near the bottom. He learned where they came
from and he felt the heat of anger arise.
"I kill them." he whispered.
Harry sent through the link: "There are more dangerous enemies."
"I kill them all!" Severus sent back.
"We will!" and with that the white shirt fell from the Professor.
They learned about the shame they carried inside and it was fascinatingly
similar. "You stop me from hurting you, please!"
Harry assured him to press on. "The days you've hurt me are over."
Snape nodded slightly and caressed Harry's arm and shoulder. All of a sudden he
lifted him up like a prince in a fairy tale. Harry slung his arms around him,
and Severus walked towards a couch in the middle of the room. He gently put him
down. They knew what would happen, what had to happen, now. The link left no
room for doubt.
Snape stood in front of the boy who came forward, encircling Severus's
midsection, his chest against a hardness in Snape's trousers. Harry released
the heated body and slid them down.
He kissed him and Snape's breathing quickened.
Then something happened to the link.
The spell got weaker.
"Severus" he said silently.
"I'm here."
"What is happening?"
The lights of the tower went on. They illuminated the whole village and even
filled the room with a bright light.
Then the spell was gone.
"Severus?"
"Yes."
"I can still feel you."
"It's the tower."
Harry got up. He suddenly understood the full meaning of the promise. They were
the only ones to seal the worlds forever.
"We need to go to the tower"
Harry collected all the clothes and drew a baffled Snape out of the house into
the light. Thank Merlin, nobody could see them running naked through the
streets, because the town was empty. Snape understood. The powersource of the
tower was the location of the breach where Voldemorts magic was pouring
through. They had activated the old rift with their link. The clock was
ticking. There was no turning back anymore.
Both men entered the room with the platform. It was surrounded by a circle of
magic lightning. The energy of the tower humming through their bodies was
enormous, but they were shielded by the towns magic from the full impact.
The strength of the mental bond subsided even more, but they did not despair.
Harry stripped his remaining clothes while Snape spread out his robe over the
platform. Harry slowly stepped on the platform, into the circle of white fire
where Snape was waiting for him. Harry lay down on Severus' robe.
Snape came to him, slowly feeling Harry's skin under his hands. It was soft and
strong. Lily was gone from his mind. Snape kissed him again, wandering down his
throat, caressing his chest, trailing down the thin line of hair. Harry bent
with pleasure.
The magic fire burnt around them and every touch intensified from its energy.
Severus forgot about his life. He was here now, touching and loving the young
man who had saved him from eternal isolation. He would have buried his desire
to touch him this way, if it was not for surviving, but Harry trusted him. So
Severus started as gently as possible. He stroked Harrys cock and marvelled at
the way it hardened under his touch. Desire welled up in Severus' body, a
desire to be inside of Harry, to feel him completely. He needed Harry to loosen
up, to want him, to let him in.
Harry closed his eyes and his breathing quickened. Every touch erased a moment
of abuse from his memory and he could feel his body opening to Snape's demands.
Severus fetched a little bottle. He opened it without letting Harry go.
"Turn around." he whispered. Harry complied.
Severus touched his bottomcheeks. They were almost relaxed, if he would not
caress Harry's cock. He put the gel on two fingers and started massaging the
tight hole in the middle. Harry escaped a deep moan. Severus concentrated on
Harry's entrance.
I have never done this before, Harry thought. "What shall I do?"
Severus released his cock and put his hand on Harrys back. It got warmer there
and the tight muscles of his pelvis relaxed further.
"Just be at ease as much as you can. I'll be very, very careful."
One slick finger pushed gently inside him. Harry inhaled deeply. With each
breath the tension abated, and then he felt him inside. He did not know, that
this could be desireable but it was. In fact, he wanted more.
"Are you okay?" Severus asked.
"I'm fine. Don't stop." Harry pressed forward. His knees got weaker. His whole
body started shaking.
Severus felt it. He withdrew his finger and just before Harry could protest,
Severus let his other arm glide under him, forcing him softly to descend to his
left side. Then he searched for Harry's opening again. Harry sighed. This was
much more comfortable. Severus lay down behind him and Harry felt his hard
penis pressing against his back while two fingers moved inside him. After some
time they were withdrawn again.
Snape hesitated, Harry could feel it. He turned around, looking into Severus'
eyes. He ordered the bottle into his hand and put some of its content into his
right hand. Severus watched him closely. Then Harry began to rub it onto the
man's cock until it was completely covered with it.
"Do it, come to me." he said and turned around again.
And so he did. The two fingers were merely a herald to the pleasures that
expanded from his pelvis to the rest of his body. Severus slowly pushed
forward, waiting for Harry to let go and after a few moments he did, the gel
smoothing the ride.
Severus began to move inside him and his breath deepened. Cracks of lightening
shot around the platform. It was almost done, but the rift was resisting. It
sounded almost angry, as if Voldemort himself wanted to reach through,
preventing things from happening.
Severus got hold of Harry's cock again and his thrusts synchronised with his
hand. The sensations were about to shut his brain down. It were two bodies
moving as one. When Severus finally came inside Harry Potter, he shouted his
name. This brought the boy down, and he spilled his fluid over Snapes hand. The
energy around them exploded, and everything went white.
***** Chapter 14 *****
                                   Epilogue
 
 
One
 
He blew out the candles.
"She loved this." Snape said and helped himself to a piece of cranberrie cake.
Harry looked at him. Severus only ate cake once a year. At the birthday of
Harry's mother. He smiled. "How is it?" he asked, taking a piece himself.
"Hm." was the only sound coming out of Snape. That was a high praise.
Harry laughed. "You're welcome." and took a bite. He closed his eyes. He could
taste the food his mother had liked the most and felt close to her.
There had only ever been this hole in his chest, no "I miss her" but emptiness.
Severus suffered from her loss, but Harry just lived in darkness. He could not
know which was worse, but he knew their pain united them. And even more, their
love that had grown out of it.
"Tomorrow is the day." Severus said.
Harry nodded. "The great Auror hearing."
"You'll do good."
"You think so?"
Severus put the plate down. He leaned over the small table, and turned Harrys
left jaw with two fingers towards him. "There is nobody worthier to be an
Auror."
As soon as he had said that, Harry felt calm. When Severus Snape deemed him
worthy, it must have been true. The corners of his mouth formed a little smile
and he looked away, down the fields, spreading across the valley before him.
 
 
Two
 
They walked side by side into the Auror Headquaters. People made way for the
unlikely pair. The former deatheater and the Boy-who-lived.
The room of the hearing was crowded, to say the least. Harry took his place at
the stand, where he seated himself on a small chair. Snape nodded to him and
vanished in the crowd.
The hearing began. The minister of magic himself spoke. He recounted the events
of Voldemorts death. Harry pained the details. His last year he had spent
finding Horcruxes only to realise he was one himself. Though the final battle
had been won and people had died, all these things were merely sidenotes to the
minister now.
"We have evidence that someone has tempered with the fabric of time and space."
he exclaimed.
Harry sat straight in his chair. All the time he had feared they had found out
about their little adventure one year earlier. Now the truth maybe the end of
his carreer.
"Explain yourself, Mr. Potter?" he said.
Harry got up and looked over to Severus, whose black hair he could not miss
even among so many wizards and witches. He was seventeen years now, an adult in
the wizarding world with full rights and responsibilities. Whatever came of
this inquiry, he had to face it.
"I have been fighting Voldemort before." he announced.
The crowd murmured.
"Silence!" the minister shouted.
"He always searched for me and wanted to destroy me, even when I was a child.
But I found help. Help from someone, Voldemort did not expect to help me."
Harry began.
"From whom?"
"My husband." he said and turned towards the man in the crowd.
Snape rose. People murmured again.
"Professor?" the minister asked.
"When Voldemort created a rift, Severus Snape saved my life in every world
Voldemort created. So, yes, there has been tampering with time and space."
Harry said, looking around, letting his eyes rest on the minister. "but it was
Voldemort himself, desiring to destroy me." Harry turned back to Severus. "We
solely closed the worlds again."
There was stunned silence.
Then the minister slowly found his voice again. "How?"
Harry smiled. "Let's say, by rewriting history."
The minister was not in a mood for riddlles. "You apply for training as Chief
Auror today. We cannot have someone in this position, who keeps secrets."
"It was only a secret until Voldemort was dead." he said, watching Severus. The
man nodded. It was time to tell their story.
 
 
 
Three
 
When the white light had receded, Harry and Snape lay in a field, naked. Harry
blinked and a blue sky was the first thing he saw. The colour was marvelous, no
cloud diminished the experience. He could feel his breath leaving and
reentering his lungs. The air was cool but soft. He turned his head. There lay
the man who had saved him through this entire time. A man, who everybody else
deemed a bully, a monster and a traitor.
What did people know? They only assumed things on the basis of their own
prejudices. What did they really know? Nothing. Harry raised his arm and
touched the bare skin of Severus' shoulder. The man stirred. He blinked through
strands of black hair and turned towards the warm touch.
They looked at each other. There was no shame, no guilt over past time
mistakes, only pure clarity that love could save the world at any time. Love
existed prior to all existence. That's why you could alter history with it.
They had beeen brought through. Craven's End was gone, and the field was only a
short distance to the next muggle village. But the one wizarding world still
existed. All other worlds had been closed again.
They apparated directly to Snape's home. "Put these clothes on." he said.
"until you reach the dorm."
Harry frowned. The black trousers were the least of his concern, but the white
shirt and black slippers. He looked like a Snape-Clone with his dark, messy
hair, but he complied.
"Which world is this?" Harry asked.
Severus looked at him. "It doesn't matter. We will deal with any of them."
Harry smiled. Of course they would. "But we have to be careful. We cannot
assume that anybody has knowledge about what happened to us."
Snape came closer. "You are right. Not even Dumbledore might know." He removed
a strand of hair from Harry's forehead with the softest touch. Harry felt magic
tickling along his spine. "You are still sixteen. If Hogwarts is out there, we
have to be strictly teacher and pupil. What I have done..."
"What we have done." Harry interrupted.
Snapes mouth twitched. "You are nothing like your father." he said and smiled.
Harry smiled back, and a tear fell down his face.
"Still, the rules apply in this world, as they do anywhere else. I am meant to
protect those I teach, not take advantage of them, and that is the only way the
rest of the world will see it." he said and let go of him.
"What are we supposed to do?" Harry asked.
"We will find out." Severus said and they apparated, each going their own way.
 
 
Four
 
"We came back to the one world we were meant to be." Harry told the committee.
"Only one thing had changed. Instead of hating the man who had protected me
through all these years, I was closer to him than to anyone else."
"And did you continue your... illicit relationship?" the minister asked.
Harry looked away, towards Snape. "Of course not. I could not let any harm come
to him."
"Profeesor Snape, please take the stand. I have a few questions." the minister
said.
Snape walked down the aisle onto the stage.
"Is it true, what the boy said?"
Snape nodded. "Every word. We did not need an illicit relationship, as you call
it. We shared a link ever since the world had collapsed. I always knew where
Mr. Potter was and could warn him."
"So could Mr. Potter."
"Yes."
"And Voldemort wasn't able to penetrate this link?"
"In the end, it was of his own making, therefore of his own power. No, he never
could." Snape said.
"So, when he was trying to kill you at the boat house...?"
Harry got up. "I was already there. The power of our link fired Voldemorts
assault back and Nagini killed him instead."
The minister gaped at their revelation. When he found his voice again he said:
"You have violated crucial laws of the wizarding world and I could throw you
into Azkaban for any of them, let alone entertaing a sexual relationship to a
minor."
Snape's face remained unreadable. He was not afraid. He would go to jail, if it
meant to save Harry Potter. "I take responsibility for my actions." Snape said.
"The committee will decide. This hearing is adjourned." the minister said.
They both left the Auror headquarter.
 
 
Five
 
"I hope it hasn't all been in vain" Harry said back in Snape's home.
"No, Harry. Nobody can take away what we have."
"But what if they do?" Harry asked. He felt on edge now. "We have saved them."
Snape looked at him. "Yes we did, but at a cost. Are you willing to take it?"
"I don't know. I thought I was strong enough, but now, at the prospect of
loosing you, again... I feel so weak."
Severus got hold of him. "Look at me!"
Harry's eyes had reddened. He did not want the man to see him.
"Look at me." Severus said softly.
Harry raised his head.
"Voldemort would have killed me, if you had not been there... You are the
bravest man I have ever known. If we are not meant to be together, at least we
have loved. That is more than I could have ever hoped for." Snape said.
Harry was not sure if this could be enough for him.
 
 
Six
 
The hearing continued.
"Harry Potter, Severus Snape, please stand."
The room was crowded once more.
"After weighing the facts and consequences of your actions we hereby announce
the following verdict:
For saving the world from Voldemort, all charges of temporal transgression will
be dropped. Since you have agreed to question you under truth serum, we learned
you spoke the truth about your sexual relationship."
Then he turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter. As an adult wizard you are free to resume
any relationship to another adult wizard of your choice." then he smiled a bit.
Harry got up. People in the room started to cheer.
"I am not finished." the minister said. Harry sat down again, taking Severus
hand. The cheers faded.
"The Aurors have decided that you are allowed into their trainig program for
the position of Chief. Congratulation, Mr. Potter."
Now the room went crazy. People sprang from their seats, and magic fired from
wands in celebration.
The men got up and turned towards the audience. Harry smiled and nodded,
thinking about the woman who had promised, that one day he would be happy.
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