Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1146467.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Severus_Snape/Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      snarry, teacher/student_relationship, Underage_in_some_areas_-_16+,
      Bonding, Emotional_Manipulation, non-canon_magic, canon_events_twisted,
      Voyeurism
  Collections:
      Snarry_Swap
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-01-21 Chapters: 12/12 Words: 30918
****** Let me Show you Heaven ******
by Eriador117
Summary
     During Harry's sixth year, Dumbledore wants him and Snape to work
     closely together in order to defeat Voldemort. They become friends of
     a sort with mutual respect on either side, but they hadn't been
     prepared for everything Dumbledore wanted them to do.
     Trying to make up for failing his best friend, Lily, Severus decides
     it's time that Harry Potter was given what he never had before: the
     truth.
Notes
     Written for the 2013 Secret Snarry Swap for Accioslash
     Dear recipient, you wanted a scenario where Harry and Snape didn't
     just fall into bed together, you wanted something plotty with some
     reasoning behind their attraction and I hope I've given you that :)
     I have taken some canon events and twisted them to better suit my
     story, so I hope it still makes sense. Mainly a rewrite of a lot of
     Half-Blood Prince. If I'd had longer, I may have been tempted to
     rewrite Deathly Hallows with a Snarry slant as well.
     Thanks to my beta WP and a big thank you to the mods for organising
     another wonderful Snarry fest, not that we need the excuse to write
     more Snarry ;)
***** Chapter 1 *****
Part 1
 
Severus didn't wait for the spiral staircase to deposit him outside
Dumbledore's office; he marched up them two at a time, his heart hammering
against his ribs. The headmaster hadn't been due back for another two weeks.
His early return meant that something had gone horribly wrong and, knowing
Voldemort as well as he did, Severus knew that was not a good thing. The office
door was ajar; that in itself was enough to give Severus pause, and he waited
outside when he heard two voices. One belonged to Albus Dumbledore and the
other belonged to the bane of Severus' existence: Harry Potter. What was Potter
doing here during the summer holidays?
Severus rapped his knuckles on the door frame and entered the room. Potter
glared at him, then turned a softer look on the headmaster and the blackened
stump that had once been his right hand. "Albus! What happened?" Severus
demanded, forgetting formality or the fact that a student was watching him.
"Harry, could you excuse us for a moment?" said Dumbledore, waving his hand at
another door, which swung open to reveal his private sitting room. "I need to
speak with Professor Snape in private."
"Yes, sir," said Potter, politeness and respect evident in the tone, and none
of the surliness he used when talking with Severus. So the brat could be
respectful, it seemed. Potter walked to the other room and soon thereafter,
Dumbledore had closed the door, adding warding and silencing charms for good
measure. It seemed that whatever the headmaster wanted to discuss was not for
Potter's ears. Interesting.
"What happened to your hand?" Severus asked again, mentally cataloguing his
healing potions, wondering if he had anything suitable.
"Riddle's ring was cursed, Severus. I should have expected it, I should have
taken precautions, but I was too careless. The Peverell ring, there in my hand.
I couldn't resist the temptation to try it on."
"How long ago?"
"Two days. At first, it was only my fingertips which suffered the
discoloration. As you can see, it has increased since." Albus pulled up the
sleeve of his robe. The dying flesh, black, with no veins visible, reached from
Albus' hand to halfway up his forearm. Soon it would reach his elbow, then his
shoulder, his chest and heart.
Severus removed his wand and cast all the scanning spells he knew, searching
out curses. After a few minutes he knew nothing was going to help. The ring had
held the Aconitum curse and there was nothing to be done. There was no cure, no
counter curse. Poison would slowly spread throughout the body, destroying,
skin, blood, marrow, bone, organs, right down to the cellular level until the
body just gave up.
"I'm sorry, Albus. It's the Aconitum curse."
"Ah. I suspected as much when the discoloration started to spread. So there is
nothing to be done, then?"
"I have some potions that can stop the spread of the curse for a time, but it
will not stall it forever."
"I understand, Severus. How long do you think you can give me?"
"Perhaps a year, maybe less. It's impossible to say. I'm sorry, I wish there
was more I could do."
"Hush, my boy. Don't fret. I am not afraid of death, Severus. I'm nearing one
hundred and fifty. I've had a good innings, as the Muggles say. A year though:
so little time to teach Harry all he will need to know."
Severus grunted in displeasure and Albus frowned at him over the rim of his
spectacles. "Come now, Severus. I really wish you would see Harry and not the
ghost of his father. Harry and James are nothing alike, surely you've realised
that by now."
"He's exactly like his father!" Severus retorted, his face flushing. "An
arrogant prick who delights in humiliating others, spoiled rotten and expecting
everything handed to him on a silver platter! We're doomed if Harry Potter is
our hope!"
"Severus, I am surprised at you. I didn't know your enmity with James Potter
would extend beyond the grave. You are a spy, Severus and yet you have not seen
what was in front of your face all this time."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Severus. "I know I everything I need to
know about Harry Potter!"
"Do you, do you really, Severus? Might I ask how you think Harry has ever
humiliated anyone?"
"I told you why I cancelled our Occlumency lessons, Albus! He violated my
privacy! Looked into the Pensieve, at memories he had no right to, and shared
them with half the school, no doubt! He humiliated me!"
"You really believe that he would do such a thing, don't you?" Albus shook his
head. "He came to me that night you threw him out, Severus. He was most
distressed at what had transpired."
Severus flushed again, remembering the jar shattering against the wall, close
to Potter's head. "So he came crying to you how nasty I was being to him?"
"No, Severus. He was appalled at his own behaviour, at violating your privacy
as you said. Harry would not even reveal to me what memories he had viewed; he
refused to divulge them to anyone, said it was your business, no one else's."
"That - that doesn't make sense," Severus said at last. "James would have used
memories like those to humiliate me at every turn."
"In that, I fear you are correct, but as I keep trying to tell you, Harry isn't
James and he would not inflict humiliation on another, not when he suffered the
same himself." Albus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"What do you mean?"
"Shall we just say that Harry's home life was not as ideal as I would have
wished and leave it at that? I, too, want to respect Harry's privacy in this
matter."
Severus' head was reeling. Not ideal? What the bloody hell did that mean? Was
Albus saying that Harry Potter was not the spoiled brat of Severus' imaginings
but something else entirely? An abused child? It didn't make sense. Severus had
known Petunia Dursley. As a child she'd been dour, but she was in awe of magic,
had even gone so far to write to Hogwarts to asked to be admitted herself.
Wouldn't she fawn over Harry Potter? Over her dead sister's child, a magical
child?
"Harry has so much he needs to know, Severus. So much he needs to learn and we
don't have much time to teach him."
"We?" Severus spluttered. "You expect me to just forget what he did and resume
our Occlumency lessons again? He wasn't even punished for what he did!"
"No? You don't think watching his godfather killed in front of him was
punishment enough? Leading his friends into danger without the first idea of
what he is facing? Yes, I am asking you to teach him Occlumency again, Severus.
Not only that. I want you to teach Harry defensive magic, offensive magic,
Muggle martial arts, anything that will keep him alive as long as he needs to
be. I only have a year at most left at Hogwarts, Severus, and so do you. This
year I want you to be the Defence teacher. Finally, you get to do what
Voldemort has been wanting you to do for all these years."
"But the curse..."
"Is still in effect," said Albus. "We can kill two birds with one stone. We
know Draco's objective, but when the time comes, you must kill me rather than
Draco. We can't let another innocent split his soul."
"So you have no qualms about me splitting my soul?" Severus asked, his voice
hollow. "You do not know what you've asked of me."
"I do, Severus. I know this will be one of the hardest things you'll ever have
to do, but you killing me wouldn't be an act of murder, it would be an act of
mercy. You and I both know how painful this curse will become. But we need to
hold on to the right moment. You have to kill me at the right time. Kill me
with Death Eaters as witnesses, and you will be the most trusted Death Eater in
Voldemort's camp. You need to be seen to be on his side so that he will confide
in you and, hopefully, give up the locations of the other Horcruxes."
"He won't just reveal that, Albus, not even to his most trusted coven. None of
the other Death Eaters even know he has created them. It's ancient magic, I'm
not sure they're even aware it exists. Lucius might suspect something, but he
would never be foolish enough to ask Voldemort outright." Severus glanced down
at the broken ring and the diary with the gaping hole throughout its pages.
"Two down. Five to go."
"Harry will need extra lessons, not just the usual Defence Curriculum. Shall we
try the use of Remedial lessons again?"
"No one will fall for that. Even I know that Harry Potter's Defence grades are
among the highest in the school."
"Hmm, well, we'll think of something, I'm sure."
"If I'm to teach Defence, then who will be teaching Potions? Or are you
expecting me to double my workload?"
"No need, Severus. Harry has been invaluable this evening in acquiring our new
Potions teacher for this year. Horace Slughorn has finally agreed to return."
"Slughorn? That man is a hopeless teacher! He was terrible even when I was a
student."
"I did not ask Slughorn to return for his teaching qualifications, I assure
you. We need Slughorn's memories of Tom Riddle. He's given me one, but it is
false. I need you or Harry to get him to reveal the real one. I think that it
was Slughorn who revealed to Tom Riddle what Horcruxes were and how to create
them. He's ashamed of that and has tried to cover it up even in his own head."
"And how is Potter supposed to achieve this miracle?"
"You remember Slughorn's little clubs, don't you?"
Severus nodded. He'd been invited to one, but since he had no famous relatives
and had few magical interests outside of Potions, Slughorn didn't invite him
back. Severus never felt he was missing out; Slughorn was an obnoxious bore.
"Well, then, you'll realise that Horace will want Harry for his collection. We
need that memory, Severus. Harry needs that memory or he will be in the dark
for his search. Severus, what I am about to reveal to you must never go further
than this room. You cannot reveal to anyone what I am about to tell you. I will
not ask you to undertake an Unbreakable Vow with me, but I want your word.”
“You have it, Albus,” Severus said, wondering why Dumbledore was not placing
him under another Fidelius Charm to keep it secret. Fidelius was a wise
precaution: even if he was discovered as a spy, captured and tortured, nothing
he knew under Fidelius could ever be revealed to his captors. He'd lost count
over the years how many Fidelius charms he was actually under, for Dumbledore
didn't like to take chances that his spy might be a double agent, or might
accidentally reveal things the Order of the Phoenix would prefer to keep
hidden.
"What do you know of Harry's scar, Severus?"
"That it appeared when the Killing Curse rebounded that night when the Dark
Lord killed the Potters." Severus closed his eyes, seeing behind his closed
lids the silent and staring face of his best friend. There wasn't a mark on
either of the Potters; it was the child who had suffered a lightning bolt scar.
That night, it had been red raw, blood dripping from it. Severus had stared at
the child then, wondering what was so bloody special about it that his best
friend had been murdered because of some garbled prophecy.
"A common misconception," said Albus, and Severus' eyes snapped open. "It was
best to let the public believe that. No one could ever know the true reason.
I'd suspected this for some time, but it became clearer during Harry's second
year when he suddenly started speaking Parseltongue and then last year, with
all the Dark Lord's forays into Harry's mind."
"What are you saying, Albus?"
"Lily's sacrifice did save her child, the Dark Arts were no proof against a
mother's sacrificial love. The curse did rebound on Voldemort; his body that
night was destroyed, but not his spirit, not his essence. Voldemort had already
created one Horcrux, maybe more by that time. Maybe his Horcruxes were too far
away to regenerate him that night, so Voldemort's essence latched onto the only
living thing in that bedroom. He latched onto Harry. Harry's scar is a Horcrux,
Severus. It needs to be the last one to be destroyed and Voldemort himself must
be the one to do it."
"Do what?" Severus asked, appalled. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't
really be sitting in the headmaster's office discussing the best time to murder
a sixteen-year-old boy. "You've been keeping him alive so that he'll be ready
to die at the right time? What is he to you? I thought you cared for him in
some way, but you've been raising him like like a pig for slaughter!"
"What's this now, Severus? Are you telling me that you care for the boy after
all your rants?"
"He's Lily's child!" said Severus. "You want me to sit back and watch you
sacrifice her child? For what? For the Wizarding world? For the greater good?
Are we no better than the Ancients? Resorting to blood magic when we can't get
our own way?"
"Fire must be fought with fire, Severus. You know Voldemort and all his
followers use blood magic; we must use it too. Harry is the Chosen One,
Severus. You know the legends as well as I. It must be he and he must go to his
death willingly. You must get Harry to trust you and then he must believe
utterly in your betrayal when you kill me."
"I don't want this burden, Albus. You should never have told me this. How can I
even look him in the face and teach him anything when I know I'll only be
sending him to his death anyway?"
"You may not want this burden, Severus, but it is yours to bear anyway. You
promised me you would do anything when you sought sanctuary from me that night.
I am calling in those debts and you will do what is required."
"Yes, of course, Headmaster."
***** Chapter 2 *****
Part 2
 
Harry didn't know how long he waited in Professor Dumbledore's sitting room
before he was called out into the study again. He guessed they'd been talking
about him, for Harry had felt the shiver of the silencing and warding charms as
they'd been placed. Why would Dumbledore need silencing charms if they hadn't
been talking about Harry?
As he stepped through to the study, he caught Snape's shadow out of the corner
of his eye and Harry's steps faltered. Harry didn't know how he could face him.
If Harry had only trusted him, had really believed that Snape was working for
the Order of the Phoenix, then maybe he wouldn't have gone haring off to London
and brought his friends into danger. Snape had alerted the Order and they'd
gone to the Ministry that night, Sirius among them. If Harry had only learned
Occlumency properly instead of concentrating so hard on how he hated Snape,
then maybe Sirius would never have died.
At the Dursleys, locked in his room for most of the holiday, Harry'd had a lot
of time to think and grieve. He'd thought about what Snape's spying meant. It
meant that he went to Voldemort when his Dark Mark flared and he was risking
his life every time he did it. What courage that must take, to spy on that
monster and yet pretend to be on his side all along. Harry didn't know if he
would have been able to do it. Snape was owed a thousand apologies, but Harry
wasn't sure if he would even accept one from Harry.
"Harry, my boy, take a seat." Dumbledore waved to the chair next to Snape's.
Harry sank into the floral armchair which was so soft that he was surprised he
wasn't drowning in the stuffing. "Tea?" Dumbledore conjured a tea tray laden
with teapot, three cups, sugar bowl, milk and slices of lemon on a side plate.
"Please," said Harry, even though he didn't like tea, but maybe if he was
holding something he wouldn't feel the need to wring his hands.
"Milk and sugar?"
"Just milk, please, sir," said Harry.
"And Severus, just lemon for you, isn't it?" Dumbledore smiled at Severus and
his blue eyes were twinkling over the rim of his glasses.
"You know very well how I take my tea, Headmaster," said Severus. "I've been in
your office often enough."
"Very true, my boy, very true."
Dumbledore sorted out Harry's and Snape's tea first before making his own with
plenty of milk and so much sugar that Harry could almost feel his teeth ache.
The three of them sipped their tea in silence for a moment before Dumbledore
set his cup down on the desk and steepled his hands under his chin.
"Harry, you know Voldemort has returned; you've heard the prophecy, so you know
that you are the one to face him. I wish it could be otherwise, Harry, I really
do. You've suffered so much already, this shouldn't be forced upon you too."
"I want to face him," said Harry. "He killed my parents. He was the reason I
was sent to the Dursleys. I'd go after him for that even if there hadn't been a
prophecy."
"Indeed. Harry, at the moment you are nowhere ready to face Voldemort. You
don't know enough, which is why I have brought in Professor Snape to help teach
you."
"You'll help teach me Occlumency again? After what I did?"
"And what exactly did you do, Potter? I'm sure the headmaster is all ears."
"I violated your privacy, sir. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I'll obey your
instructions to the letter."
"You will?" Snape sounded shocked, as well he might, for Harry had never shown
any inclination to that before.
"I will, sir. If I'd listened to you in the first place, if I hadn't let my
imagination run away with me, I'd know how to tell a false vision from a true
one. If I'd obeyed you, Sirius wouldn't be dead. It's my fault he's dead and
there's nothing I can do to change that. But I can stop anyone else from dying
by my mistakes." Harry's hand shook so much that some of the tea sloshed around
the sides and he stared blankly into his teacup.
"Potter," Snape said gently, in a tone that Harry had never heard him use
before. "We are at war with the Dark Lord. People will die, there will be
casualties, but I will teach you to the best of my abilities and you will be
strong. Strong enough to face him."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry, his voice breaking on the last word, tears
leaking beneath his glasses to fall into his tea. "I don't deserve you giving
me a second chance."
"Everyone deserves a second chance, Harry," said Dumbledore, looking pointedly
at Snape. "You will be having extra Defence lessons with Professor Snape once
term starts, but it won't just be Occlumency. Professor Snape has informed me
that no one would believe you would need Remedial Defence, so that ruse is out.
Any suggestions?"
"No one would bat an eyelid if he gave me detention," said Harry.
"Would detentions twice a week seem too excessive?" asked Dumbledore.
"Not where Potter is concerned," said Snape, his mouth quirking up at the
corners. Was that a smile? Did Harry just see Snape smile at discussing his
detentions?
"Very well. Detentions it is for now and we'll see how things go. Drink up,
Harry. Let's get you settled at the Burrow."
"He is not returning to his relatives' home?" asked Snape. "Why not? The wards
alone offer more protection than anywhere but Hogwarts."
"Some things the wards do not protect from. But that is a tale for another
time. Harry, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir." Harry stood, brushing down his jeans, even though they were not
dirty; he just needed something to do with his hands.
"Unless you want to tell Professor Snape what happened?"
"I'd rather not, sir," said Harry. Dumbledore had healed him already. There
were no bruises visible anymore, he was no longer in pain from his broken
bones. It was over; Harry didn't want to relive it.
"Very well then, we'll be on our way. I'll see you later, Severus, to discuss
Harry's lesson plans."
"Yes, Headmaster." Snape stood, nodded at both of them and left the office.
Harry didn't quite know what to make of a Snape who seemed to want to teach
him, who seemed determined that Harry would learn enough to be able to face
Voldemort. Harry was surprised, but pleased, that Snape seemed to hold no ill-
will towards him after Harry had viewed Snape's memories in the Pensieve that
day. Harry had regretted looking almost as soon as he viewed them, and not just
because he'd seen firsthand what the Marauders had done to Snape and anyone
else they felt didn't 'fit' with their little group. He'd regretted it too
because the memories in there had been so private and humiliating. Harry knew
what it was like to be the one humiliated, and that was the first day that he
felt he and Snape had anything in common.
"Harry? Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked and Harry almost laughed in his
face. Was the headmaster worried about him now, after leaving him with the
Dursleys for the best part of fifteen years? No one had ever checked up on him
there before. Even this year, Harry hadn't believed Dumbledore when he said he
would collect him in early August and Harry had left his packing until
Dumbledore had turned up.
"Fine, sir. Just thinking."
Dumbledore nodded and lifted down an ornate jar from his mantelpiece. "After
you, Harry." Dumbledore removed the lid and held out the jar so that Harry
could take a pinch of Floo powder.
Harry dropped the powder in the fire and called out his destination with a
lighter heart than he'd had for days. "The Burrow."
 
***
From his first visit to the Burrow when he was twelve, Harry had been made
welcome by the Weasleys and today was no exception. As soon as he stepped out
of the Floo he was hugged more times than he could count; he even had his
cheeks pinched by Molly Weasley and she smiled down at him, but Harry thought
it looked a bit sad.
"Will you stay for dinner, Albus?" Molly asked the headmaster, but he shook his
head.
"I need to get back; I just wanted to make sure Harry got here all right."
"He'll be fine here," said Molly. "Arthur got some of the Aurors to augment the
wards yesterday; they won't be able to find us."
"Good, good. Good evening everyone," said Dumbledore as he threw some Floo
powder into the fire.
Harry glanced around at his friends and grinned at Ron, who seemed to have shot
up over the summer. "Good grief, Ron. You're nearly as tall as Hagrid!"
"And you're still a short-arse," said Ron, punching him playfully on the
shoulder.
"Ron, don't be so rude!" said both Hermione and Molly together.
Ginny gave Harry the once-over, her eyes lingering over-long on Harry's chest.
"Harry may be short, but he's perfectly formed."
"That's enough! Ron, get the plates. Ginny go and see if the chicken is ready.
Fred, George, get the knives and forks," said Molly.
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Harry, looking at Hermione, who nodded.
"You're guests! Go and sit down in the parlour for a minute. I'll call you when
dinner's ready."
 
***
Feeling replete after their meal of roast chicken with all the trimmings and
apple pie and custard, Ron, Hermione and Harry all made their way to Ron's
bedroom after helping with the washing-up, despite some more protests from
Molly. Ron and Hermione made straight for Ron's bed, Harry sank down on the
camp bed opposite it.
"So is it true, Harry?" asked Hermione. "What the papers have been saying all
summer. That you're the Chosen One?"
"Well, I don't know that I would put it exactly like that, but Dumbledore told
me about the prophecy. I have to kill Voldemort or he'll kill me. That's what
the prophecy says, anyway."
"Blimey." Ron shuddered, but whether it was because Harry had used the name, or
at the thought of Harry being a killer, he didn't know.
"This is ridiculous!" said Hermione. "Harry, you're a sixteen-year-old student,
how do they expect you to go up against Voldemort? What about the Order? The
Aurors? Isn't this sort of thing up to them? They're qualified wizards, they've
been trained in this sort of situation. The DA lessons are hardly going to help
with this."
"I'll be doing extra training this year," said Harry. "Dumbledore's arranged it
all."
"Oh, Dumbledore's going to be training you? That's good, he's a very powerful
wizard in his own right. If you've got Professor Dumbledore training you, then
you have a very good chance."
"Um, Dumbledore's not doing the training. Snape is going to be training me."
"Snape?" Ron wrinkled his nose as if he'd just smelled something foul. "May as
well write your will now, Harry. He'll be handing you over to the Dark Lord the
first chance he gets."
"Ron, how can you be so dense?" asked Hermione.
"He was a Death Eater," said Ron, folding his arms over his chest. "You don't
just stop being one."
"He's spying for our side now, Ron," Harry said softly. "If it hadn't been for
him, more of us might have died that night at the Ministry. He was the one who
alerted the Order. We owe him a debt."
"I don't owe him anything. I hope I failed my Potions OWL, then I won't even
have to see him in class anyway. Talking of classes, has anyone heard who we
might be getting for Defence next term? There was nothing in the papers; they
normally put something in there, even if it is totally wrong."
"I can help you there. Dumbledore took me along to persuade him. Professor
Slughorn is going to be at Hogwarts next term."
"Slughorn? Horace Slughorn? But he's not a Defence teacher, he taught Potions
at Hogwarts when he was there."
"How do you know that?" asked Ron.
"Honestly, it was all in..."
"Hogwarts: A History," said Harry and Ron together, trying not to grin.
"Yes, so I expect he'll be taking Potions again, not Defence."
"Oh, no," Ron wailed as he realised what that meant. "Snape is taking us for
Defence? And I can't give up Defence Against the Dark Arts, not if I want to be
an Auror."
"If you want to be an Auror, you'll need Potions as well," said Hermione.
"You'll have to suffer both Potions and Defence."
"At least tell me Slughorn wasn't a Slytherin."
"Sorry, Ron. He was Head of Slytherin, in fact."
Ron groaned and hung his head in his hands. "Kill me now, Harry."
"Grow up, Ron!" said Hermione, giving him a light cuff 'round the ear. "He must
be a good teacher, otherwise Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him."
"I'm not sure that's true," said Harry. "Slughorn taught Voldemort and
Dumbledore thinks Slughorn knows something about why Voldemort didn't die the
night he attacked me. He wants me to find out what it is."
"Oh, Harry," said Hermione. "I'm sorry. It's always you, isn't it?"
"And now you've got those extra lessons with Snape as well. I wouldn't want to
be in your shoes, mate."
"Yeah, I don't find them fitting very well myself at the moment."
The three of them looked at each other, the silence seeming to stretch to
infinity. "I need the loo," said Harry and headed downstairs to the bathroom,
anything to get out of that room and the heavy thoughts he knew they were all
having. Despite going to have extra lessons from Snape, Harry knew what they
were thinking, for Harry had been thinking it, too; he wouldn't stand a chance
against Voldemort. But Harry didn't care. Harry was going to stop Voldemort or
die trying.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Part 3
 
Harry trudged up to the castle, a handkerchief pressed to his nose, but the
bleeding wasn't stopping. His nose felt crooked; he suspected Malfoy had broken
it, but he'd need to see Madam Pomfrey to make sure. He'd had a broken nose
before after Dudley and his gang had caught him during a bout of 'Harry
Hunting' at primary school, but it hadn't bled for this long then. He was
getting light-headed and wondered dimly if you could die from blood loss from a
broken nose.
Up ahead, a lantern light bobbed in the darkness and Harry made his way towards
it.
"Hagrid!" he said, relief at seeing his friend almost making him fall.
"What's happened to yeh, Harry? We'd better get you to the hospital wing."
"It's only a bloody nose," Snape interjected. Snape had been hidden by Hagrid's
bulk. "He doesn't need to go the hospital wing for that. Get back to the
castle, I'll take care of Mr. Potter."
Hagrid looked from one to the other, but in the end he left Harry alone to the
mercies of Professor Snape.
Snape removed his wand from the folds of his robes and for a split-second Harry
believed what everyone had been trying to tell him all along: that Snape was a
Death Eater and now that he'd got Harry alone (and outside the gates of
Hogwarts, where there weren't any wards) he was going to murder him.
"Really, Potter? You think I'm going to murder you now after everything I've
done to keep you alive? What did happen to your nose, anyway?"
"Malfoy happened," Harry said bitterly.
"What hex did he use?"
"He didn't hex me, he stamped on my face."
"You're late for the feast, Potter. I think we'll make it an even month of
detention, don't you?"
Harry glared at him. "Malfoy breaks my nose and I'm the one who gets punished?"
"Potter, don't tell me you are really as stupid as you look." Snape sighed and
waved his wand in Harry's general direction. "Episkey." Snape's wand flared
blue and Harry groaned in pain as the bone in his nose straightened as it set
back to normal. He could tell that his nose was no longer broken, but the blood
wasn't stopping.
"Oh, I see. The detentions are an excuse for my lessons with you."
"So, you do have a brain under that unruly mop," said Snape, and Harry wasn't
sure, but he thought he could see Snape smiling. Grey lights were dancing in
and out of his vision and his arms and legs felt rather heavy.
"Professor, I don't feel so good," said Harry as he slumped to the ground. As
he slowly lost consciousness, Harry was dimly aware of strong arms wrapped
around him and a soft voice murmuring in his ear.
"It'll be all right, Potter. I promise I won't let you die."
 
***
 
Harry knew he was in the infirmary long before he opened his eyes. It was the
smells that got to him first: a slight hint of sweat-soaked sheets, stale vomit
and, underlying it all, a tang of lemon disinfectant. He struggled to open his
eyes, squinting without his glasses. There was a blob in front of him wearing a
tall white hat.
"Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked, reaching over to the bedside table and fumbling
for his glasses. She was quicker and handed him the frames.
"Awake at last, Mr. Potter." She smiled down at him and patted the bedclothes
near his knee. "Not even at Hogwarts a day and you're in the infirmary
already."
"Ah, well," said Harry, giving her a smile of his own. "I missed you over the
summer. What happened?"
"Professor Snape filled me in about your broken nose. Between you and me,
Harry, I had to reset it again. Professor Snape's Episkey spell isn't that
great and your nose was slightly off-centre, if not broken any longer."
Harry wondered if that's why Snape's nose was crooked, that it had been broken
and he'd tried to fix it himself but it hadn't worked properly. Surely he would
have been able to see that himself in a mirror?
"But the problem wasn't your broken nose," continued Madam Pomfrey. "The
problem was that at the same time you were hit with a blood-thinning hex. If
Professor Snape hadn't got you here on time you could have died from massive
blood loss."
Harry didn't remember any hexes being cast at him by Malfoy. He did remember
Petrificus Totalus before he fell from the luggage rack, but after that Malfoy
hadn't said much at all, mostly insults to Harry and ranting on about how it
was Harry's fault that his father was in jail. Harry had seen Dumbledore cast
wandless and wordless spells, Harry had even done wandless magic himself
sometimes when he was under duress. Was Malfoy that powerful a wizard that he
could cast wandless and wordless even when he wasn't in danger?
"You're fine now, Harry. You've missed the feast, I'm afraid, but I can get
something from the kitchens for you if you're hungry."
"I'm not hungry, thanks," said Harry. "I'd just like to get to bed."
"You're already in bed, Harry."
"I meant in my own bed, in my dorm."
"I'd really prefer you to stay in the infirmary overnight, just to be on the
safe side."
"You said yourself I was fine now," Harry reminded her. He didn't really want
to spend his first night back at Hogwarts in the infirmary. Harry was already
in the hospital wing more often than any other student and it was getting to be
a standing joke that he had his own bed and pyjamas there. He was a little
disappointed that Professor Snape hadn't stayed until he woke up, which
surprised him. What did he care whether Snape was here or not? The truth was,
he remembered Snape's strong arms around him and in all his life he had never
felt as safe as he did in that moment, never mind fainting from blood loss.
"Very well, on one condition. If you feel any residual effects, if you feel
dizzy or sick or have any sort of headache, you come straight back here; can
you agree to that, Harry?"
"I promise. Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." Harry grinned at her like a lunatic as he
swung his legs over the edge of the bed and caught sight of his uniform shirt.
It looked reddish brown rather than white and the thought of all that blood had
him feeling a little green around the gills, but he quickly masked it. Harry
waved his wand at himself and cast Scourgify to get rid of the blood. There was
no point in worrying Ron and Hermione unduly and if they saw Harry's blood-
soaked clothes that's what they would do.
"Oh, before I forget, Professor Snape left this for you." Madam Pomfrey handed
Harry a yellowish envelope; Professor Snape's spidery scrawl etched out his
name on the front of it. Probably his 'detention' schedule.
"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," said Harry, leaning up and giving her a peck on the
cheek. She blushed and looked rather flustered at that.
"Away with you and I don't want to see you in here for the rest of the year."
"But Madam Pomfrey," said Harry, clasping his hands over his heart. "My heart
will break if I don't see you all year."
She smiled and waved him away, as if he was a rather persistent cat. Harry
laughed and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Portraits nodded or smiled
at him as he passed and Harry couldn't help grinning back. He was finally home.
The common room was empty except for Ron and Hermione, who were huddled close
to the fire and speaking in hushed tones. Hermione glanced up first and, once
she'd seen Harry, she was out of her chair and hugging him so tight it was
difficult to breathe.
"Harry! You're all right! We were so worried. We heard some of the Slytherins
talking at dinner; they said that Malfoy attacked you and Malfoy just smirked
and said he wouldn't be surprised if you never turned up for school at all. We
thought he'd killed you!"
"He might have done if Snape hadn't been there."
"Snape saved you?" asked Ron, not sounding too pleased at the prospect.
"Well, he has done it before," Harry said softly. "It's sort of like his job,
isn't it? Keep me alive until I'm ready to face Voldemort."
Ron winced. "I wish you wouldn't say his name."
"Sorry, Ron." Harry knew how much his friend hated that.
"What did happen?" asked Hermione.
"Malfoy attacked me on the train. He stamped on my face and broke my nose, but
he'd also cast a wandless blood loss hex at me at the same time. Wandless and
silent."
Hermione gaped at him. "Malfoy can do wandless and wordless magic? I thought
only Dumbledore could do that."
"So you're saying Malfoy's as powerful as Dumbledore?" asked Ron.
"No, I don't think that's true. Think about before you went to Hogwarts, did
either of you do magic even before you knew what magic was? If someone was
chasing you and you needed to get away, could you jump on the roof or
something?" Harry looked at each of his friends in turn, but they both looked
blank.
"What do you mean, Harry? Are you saying you did wandless magic before you even
came to Hogwarts? Wandless magic is possible, but it takes years of training.
You can't just do wandless magic at the drop of a hat." Hermione folded her
arms across her chest
"I did magic before I came to school, before I even knew I was a wizard. But I
didn't know what I was doing was magic, I just thought it was luck or
something."
"Wandless magic before you went to Hogwarts?" Ron grinned. "Blimey mate, no
wonder you're the Chosen One. You-Know-Who doesn't stand a chance!"
***** Chapter 4 *****
Part 4
 
Harry wiped his sweaty hands on the front of his robes, feeling as nervous as
if this was a real detention. The wood grain of the Potions office door was
well-known to him and he stared at it for a few moments before rapping his
knuckles against the wood. Snape still held detentions in his old Potions
office in the dungeons; Slughorn's office was on one of the upper floors.
"Come!" Snape barked from inside the room.
Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. It was only five minutes to
eight; he was a little early, but it was better to be early than late,
especially when it came to Snape. Snape hated tardiness almost as much as he
hated Harry, but Harry shook his head. He no longer thought Snape hated him;
after all, if Snape really hated Harry why had he helped him to the hospital
wing rather than leave him to die on the ground? No, Harry didn't think Snape
hated him any longer, but as to Harry's own feelings in regard to Professor
Snape, he was still unsure.
Harry's heart lurched when he saw Dumbledore's Pensieve sitting on Snape's
desk. Was this a pointed reminder at what Harry had done last term? Harry
didn't need the reminder. He'd thought of that violation of Snape's privacy
almost as much as he thought of his dead godfather.
"There is no need to look so stunned, Potter. The Pensieve is here for our
lessons. Professor Dumbledore has some memories that he would like you to see
but he doesn't think you should watch them alone."
"Um, sir, if they're Professor Dumbledore's memories, shouldn't he be the one
to show me?"
"Unfortunately the headmaster's health at this time makes that impossible.
There is also the connection you and the Dark Lord share through your scar. It
wouldn't be good if the Dark Lord tried to possess you while you were in one of
these memories. You and the headmaster might never escape it."
"Oh," Harry said, feeling chastened. "What memories are they?"
"Most of them are the headmaster's memories of the Dark Lord, some are from
Ministry employees and some are from Professor Slughorn."
"You - you want me to go willingly into Voldemort's memories?" Harry shuddered,
remembering that diary only too well.
"Do not speak his name!" Snape hissed, his face paling and his hand clamping
his forearm. "Yes, you need to see these memories. You need to see what Tom
Riddle was like. For only by knowing your enemy can you defeat him."
"Do you really think I can defeat him, Professor?" asked Harry.
"I don't think anyone can guarantee that. But with the extra training you will
receive from me, you will be in with a very good chance to do so. I can help
you be as prepared as you can, but as I said, there are no guarantees. There
never are when it comes to war."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry and he meant it. He would rather have the truth
than a pretty lie which might make him foolhardy or not realising what mistakes
he might make. Harry was determined that he would learn everything he could
from Snape during these lessons so he would have a fighting chance against the
Dark Lord.
Snape lifted up a small bottle, the white silvery mist of a memory swirling
inside it. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry, nodding, as if to convince himself he was. Harry wasn't
sure if he wanted to view any memories of Voldemort, from anyone, but he knew
that this was another way to get Harry to understand Voldemort's psyche and
from that, perhaps a way to defeat him after all.
Snape tipped the memory into the Pensieve. "Together," he said and waited until
Harry was next to him before lowering his head. Harry did the same and they
tumbled into Dumbledore's memories.
Rain lashed down from the heavens, soaking the street below and pattering off
Dumbledore's black umbrella. He was wearing a plum suit which looked out of
place with the other people around who were wearing black, grey or brown. Ahead
of them stood a large four-storey building with lots of chimneys and windows.
Around it was a wall and wrought-iron fencing, but Harry wasn't sure whether
that was to keep the inhabitants in or stop intruders. It reminded him of a
prison. They followed Dumbledore nearer to the gates and Harry saw the words
Wools' Orphanage in stark black lettering. What a grim place to grow up!
Harry and Snape followed Dumbledore inside as he conversed with the matron of
the orphanage and continued with them as they made their way upstairs. The
corridor was dark, the wooden floor was scuffed with the passing of many shoes
and the paint was peeling and cracked on the walls. Mrs. Cole paused by a
wooden door and pushed it open.
Harry peered around Dumbledore and saw Tom Riddle as a small child. It was hard
to imagine that the creature Voldemort had become had ever been anything so
normal as a child. Riddle was wearing a uniform of sorts: grey short trousers,
grey socks, a white shirt and a grey blazer. There was a desk, a wardrobe and
bed in the room. The only decoration was a small black and white photo of a
rocky cliff and the sea above Riddle's desk.
"Tom, you have a visitor," said Mrs. Cole.
Riddle looked around and smirked at Dumbledore and Mrs. Cole, but Harry felt
that smirk was meant for him. "Hello, Harry," said Riddle. "Isn't this a
surprise?"
"Harry, get out of the Pensieve, now!" commanded Snape. Harry had been so used
to obeying that voice in his classes that he did as he was bid, almost
forgetting in his worry that Snape had used his given name.
Harry pulled himself out of the memory, gasping for breath. How had a memory of
Tom Riddle even known he was there? A few moments later, Snape too emerged from
the Pensieve and stood staring at Harry for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"Professor? What happened?" asked Harry when the silence got too much for him.
"You have a connection to Tom Riddle through your scar. Your scar holds
memories of Tom Riddle and Voldemort. He can interact with you in these
memories; if he managed to kill you in them, then you would die in real life.
We can't risk you looking at these memories."
"What was I supposed to learn from these, anyway?"
"You have spent quite a bit of time in the Muggle world, Potter. Have you heard
of serial killers?"
Harry nodded.
"And that sometimes they take trophies from the people they kill?"
"Yes, like something that belonged to the victim, a necklace, things like
that."
"Indeed. Think of the Dark Lord as a serial killer. He too has taken trophies
from some of his victims and has used their deaths for a dark purpose. In
ancient times he would have been known as a blood mage, someone who sacrifices
others for his own ends. Blood magic is very powerful, it's also very dangerous
and has been forbidden by Wizarding law for centuries. But the Dark Lord has
never let that stand in his way. By using blood magic he hopes to gain
immortality. He's always been afraid of dying."
"So he's using blood magic to keep himself alive? Is he like a vampire and
drinks his victims' blood?"
"No, he has no creature inheritance as far as I'm aware. Do you know what a
Horcrux is, Potter?"
"No, I've never heard of that."
"Well, as you've probably gathered, the strongest form of blood magic is
killing someone. Murder, in fact: you have to intend to kill them; it wouldn't
work if it was an accident. The act of murder splits a person's soul. For a
blood mage wishing to live forever, there is a rite he can enact which will
place a part of his soul somewhere other than his living body."
"That makes a sick sort of sense, doesn't it? It's why he didn't die the first
time; his soul was already somewhere else. Do you know where he's hidden this
Horcrux?"
"Horcruxes, plural," said Snape. "The headmaster, and I concur with his
assessment, believes that the Dark Lord has split his soul at least six times,
if not more. Two Horcruxes have already been destroyed, but we don't know where
the other four are or what they might be."
"And if we don't destroy them first, it won't matter if I go up against him, he
still wouldn't die."
"Exactly. Even if we do discover where the Horcruxes are hidden, we don't know
how to destroy them." Snape ran his hand over his hair and Harry was surprised
to note that it didn't look as greasy as it often had during Potions lessons.
Maybe the greasy hair was caused by potion fumes? Now that Snape was teaching
Defence, he wasn't over cauldrons all day.
"Well, how were the other two destroyed?" asked Harry.
"You destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with a Basilisk fang and Professor Dumbledore
destroyed the ring, but I'm not sure how he did it. But Basilisk's fangs are
very rare, it would be difficult to get hold of one. Maybe on the black
market."
"Why don't we just get one from the Chamber of Secrets? Or do they disintegrate
after the Basilisk is killed?"
Snape gaped at him. "Potter, are you telling me that you killed the Basilisk in
the Chamber, in your second year of school?"
"Um, yeah?" Harry said, blushing. "I thought everyone knew that. I couldn't
very well have removed a fang while it was still alive, could I?"
"I thought it was just a rumour, you know how stories get out of hand around
here. I thought you'd just found a loose fang down there somehow and used that.
Professor Dumbledore never saw fit to enlighten me as to the truth. So you
killed the beast and it's still there, in the Chamber?"
"I suppose so," said Harry. "I've never been down there since. Someone might
have removed the body for all I know."
"I doubt it," said Snape. "The only way to gain access is to be a Parselmouth
and as far as I'm aware, you are the only one in the school."
They were both quiet for a while, both of them remembering the other person to
speak Parseltongue, and hopefully he was nowhere near Hogwarts.
"Anyway, it's getting late. I will discuss with Professor Dumbledore what we
will do about the memories you can't view and tomorrow evening we will start
your Occlumency lessons again."
"Oh, joy," said Harry in a droll tone and, to his amazement, Snape laughed. Not
a jeering laugh, but a real honest-to-goodness laugh. Harry had never heard
Snape laugh in all the time he'd known him. It made him seem years younger, all
the cares of his face worn away as he laughed. Snape coughed as if to disguise
the fact that he had been laughing and put on a stern face.
"Yes, well. Until tomorrow, Potter."
Harry nodded and left the dungeons. He wasn't aware of it, but he was smiling
all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Part 5
 
Harry slid onto the bench at the Gryffindor table, Hermione on one side of him
and Ron on the other. Ron had already started his breakfast and was tucking
into sausages, bacon and egg, most of it slathered in brown sauce. Hermione was
eating a bowl of muesli and there was a pot of yoghurt and a small orange
beside her place. Harry grabbed a couple of slices of toast from the rack that
was hovering overhead and covered them in strawberry jam, much to Hermione's
revulsion.
"Ugh, how can you eat jam for breakfast?" she asked. "It's so sweet!"
"I like sweet things," said Harry softly, almost too softly for anyone to hear.
Sweet things had never been on the menu for Harry while he'd been at the
Dursleys. He'd never had chocolate, never had sweets, never had dessert until
he'd come to Hogwarts and he was determined to make up for it now.
Hermione looked from Ron to Harry and shook her head. "I don't know where you
two put it all. If I ate as much as that I'd be the size of a house."
"It's all the exercise we get," said Ron, thankfully having swallowed his
sausage first. "That reminds me, Harry, when are the Quidditch tryouts? You're
the captain, aren't you?"
"Since when? I never heard that. I thought I was still banned?"
"Naw, Dumbledore's overruled that. Didn't you read the noticeboard? It says
you're captain and will be holding tryouts for the team."
"Well, it can't be any night this week, I've still got those detentions for
Snape. How about Saturday, then? Everyone should be free then."
"I don't have to do a trial again, do I?"
"If Harry is holding tryouts, then to be fair you should try out too," said
Hermione. "Otherwise it'll just look like Harry is showing favouritism to his
friends."
"Don't worry, Ron," said Harry. "You've been on the team before, you'll do well
in the tryouts. The main thing is not to let nerves get the better of you."
Harry lifted out his timetable and glanced at it. "Potions first? Ugh, they
shouldn't make us take Potions straight after breakfast, all those weird
ingredients turn your stomach."
"Well at least we don't have Snape any more," said Ron. "Thank Merlin for small
mercies."
After breakfast the three of them headed down to the dungeons. Snape was no
longer their Potions teacher, but the lessons still took place in the dungeons,
as far away from the rest of the castle as possible. Potions accidents could be
catastrophic. Hermione sat next to Susan Bones, leaving Ron and Harry to share
a table.
Slughorn was at the front of the room standing beside his desk, which had three
lidded cauldrons sitting on it. He was wearing a brown suit with a small red
pinstripe, a gold watch chain dangling from his waistcoat pocket. His teaching
robes were black, but were open at the front and looked a little small in the
shoulders for him. Harry guessed they wouldn't button at the front due to
Slughorn's ample midriff.
Slughorn smiled as the class settled down, students chattering away as they
unpacked their books, parchments and quills. Harry's heart dropped to his
stomach. He didn't have a Potions textbook; he hadn’t been sure he'd be taking
Potions, with the marks he'd got in his OWL.
"Welcome, everyone. Today, I have a little surprise for you all. Everyone come
to the front of the room and gather round my desk." Slughorn licked his lips,
reminding Harry of a very fat spider inviting flies into his web.
There was a scrape of wood against flagstones as everyone left their seats and
marched up to the desk. Slughorn waited until everyone was in a semicircle
around his desk, before moving behind it and lifting the lid of one of the
cauldrons. The potion inside was bright pink, with bubbles of pink hearts
popping on the surface of it. "Now, who can tell me what this is?" asked
Slughorn.
Hermione raised her hand.
"And what's your name, Miss?"
"Hermione Granger, sir."
Slughorn shared a glance with Harry, no doubt remembering their conversation
when Harry had defended Hermione as the best in her class.
"Very well, Miss Granger. Do you know what this potion is?"
"It's Amortentia, sir. A very powerful love potion, if not the most powerful."
"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. It is indeed Amortentia, but it is not
so much a love potion as an infatuation potion. You cannot create real love
with a potion of any sort. The Amortentia Potion will react differently to each
person. It has an aroma that will be different, depending on what the
individual will find attractive. How about you, Miss Granger, what do you
smell? Come a bit closer, my dear."
Hermione took a step closer to the cauldron and took a delicate sniff. "I smell
freshly mown grass, bread baking in the oven and toothpaste."
"And you, Mr. Malfoy? What scents can you discern?"
Malfoy smirked and pushed his way through the Gryffindors, elbowing Harry in
the ribs. "How's your nose, Potter? Did you run crying to Madam Pomfrey?" he
whispered harshly as he stepped up to the desk. Harry didn't bother rising to
the bait this time. There wasn't a lot Malfoy could do in the middle of Potions
class, after all. Not with so many witnesses.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Slughorn, sounding impatient.
"I don't smell anything. Are you sure this was made correctly?"
"Well, not everyone is affected by these types of potions. Maybe you are very
self-disciplined. How about you, Mr. Potter? Shall we see what you might find
attractive?"
Harry waited until Malfoy had left the desk before making his own way there. He
sniffed the vapours and waited for a few moments, unable to make sense of what
he was smelling. "Sandalwood and aniseed. Lots of herbs and spices. Dittany and
armadillo bile."
The rest of the class laughed. Slughorn peered into the cauldron and replaced
the lid. "Hmm, maybe Mr. Malfoy is right and the potion has lost its
effectiveness. I can't imagine anyone finding the smell of armadillo bile
attractive."
"Maybe Harry just loves Potions, sir," said Susan Bones.
Slughorn beamed at that. "I daresay, fascinating subject that it is. Now, for
this lesson, I want each of you to prepare the Draught of the Living Death. The
instructions are on page forty-four of Advanced Potions-Making. And for the
best effort, I will be awarding a prize."
A lot of the girls oohed and ahhed at that. "Whoever brews the best potion
today, will receive a small vial of Felix Felicitas Potion. Can anyone tell me
what it does?"
Hermione's was the only hand raised again and Harry tried not to smile. Was
Hermione the only one in the class to read ahead? "It's a lucky potion, sir.
It's also known as liquid luck."
"Quite right, my dear, quite right. Of course, its use has been banned in
sporting events and exams; for those you will have to rely on your own merits.
But if you have any other endeavour you need to succeed in, Felix here might
just give you an extra boost."
A lucky potion? Harry had never heard of it before, but that didn't mean he
didn't want it. With that potion, maybe he could defeat Voldemort once and for
all. He was determined to win that prize. Harry raised his hand. "Sir? Ron and
I didn't know were allowed to take Potions this year, so we didn't get any
books."
"I'm all right, Mum owled me my brother Percy's book," said Ron, holding up the
tattered copy.
"Very well, Harry. See what's in the store cupboard until you can get your new
book from Flourish and Blotts."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry. There were a few copies of Advanced Potion-
Making in the store cupboard, four were in quite good condition, almost looking
brand new, but the fifth one was almost as tattered as Percy's old one. Not
wanting to show up his friend who had to rely on hand-me-downs, Harry took the
tattered copy and hid the rest under a box of shrivelfigs at the bottom of the
cupboard. He didn't want Ron to see the newer copies and wonder why Harry
hadn't taken one of those. Ron could be very prickly when it came to money, or
the lack thereof.
Harry skimmed through the book once he was back at his desk, noticing lots of
black ink scrawled in the margins. Someone hadn't been worried about defacing
their textbook. On page 44, there were extra instructions added underneath the
printed ones, with reasons behind each one. Press with the blade of the knife.
Releases more juice than cutting. Harry grinned to himself as he started on his
potion. That Liquid Luck was as good as his.
 
***
 
Severus was a natural at Legilimency and Occlumency; he never really had to
learn them. He just knew instinctively what to do in order to keep his mind
blocked or how to attack another's mind. Trying to teach Potter in fifth year
had been an outright disaster and in his heart Severus knew it was his own
fault. He hadn't really taught it. Severus had expected Potter to know what to
do, just as Severus had, and he wasn't even sure it was a skill that could be
taught. It wasn't like there were instructions or recipes like with potions.
Even a half-way incompetent brewer could brew a potion with the correct recipe
and step by step instructions. There were no instructions for Occlumency, it
was such an obscure discipline. There weren't even any books on the subject.
Severus paced up and down his office, wondering how he could even attempt to
get Potter proficient enough to keep the Dark Lord out of his head. The first
thing needed was to be able to clear his mind. Maybe some mediation techniques
first, then?
At five to eight, there was a knock on the office door. Severus waved his wand
at the door so that it opened inward. "Come in, Potter," he said, just as
Potter had raised his hand and was about to knock again. Potter was dressed in
a pair of black jeans, a dark green shirt and a black cardigan buttoned to mid-
chest. The colour of the shirt brought out his eyes and Severus couldn't help
but be reminded of Lily in that regard. Oh, Harry Potter may have had the same
wild mop of hair like James, but over the years his features had matured a bit,
with a squarer jaw and Harry was looking less and less like James as the years
passed. It might have been because Harry showed no sign of achieving James'
height; he'd been as tall as Severus in school. Lily had not been short either,
so Severus wondered why Harry Potter had such small stature; it certainly
wasn't in his genes.
"You're early," said Severus when he realised he'd been staring at Potter for
quite some time. He shook his head and tried not to blush, realising too that
he'd been sizing Potter up, and not in a professorial manner. The clothes Harry
was wearing did nothing to disguise his figure, unlike the baggy clothes he
usually wore when out of uniform.
"I didn't want to be late," Potter said, biting his lower lip.
"Come through," said Severus, marching to the door that led to his living
quarters. The first step to teaching Potter Occlumency was getting him to relax
and Severus didn't think his office, reminiscent of previous detentions, was
the best place for that. Severus pushed the door open and waved Potter through.
"Oh," Potter said softly. "I didn't expect our lessons to be in your quarters,
sir."
Severus glanced around the room that had been his home for the past sixteen
years and wondered how it was as viewed through Potter's eyes. The walls were
crowded with bookshelves; Severus had so many books that the shelves were over-
full and bowing in the middle with the weight of them. On top of the
bookshelves, more books made a ladder to the ceiling. Severus blushed with
shame when Potter glanced towards the frayed and tattered sofa in front of the
fireplace. He'd never really had any visitors down here, not unless you counted
the headmaster, and he usually conjured his own armchair.
There was a small rag rug in front of the fire, parts of it scorched where
coals or logs had escaped the fire. Severus had never really thought to repair
it. He'd never been very good with household spells and things like that he
tended not to notice when he was here on his own. For some strange reason he
felt like he wanted Potter to like his rooms and he was afraid they weren't up
to muster. The wooden coffee table on the rug was scratched and worn and it was
covered in stacks of parchment, student essays and journals.
"I like it," Potter said with a smile. "You can tell someone lives here. It's
homely, it's not like a show house where you'd be afraid to touch anything."
"There are some books here that wouldn't take kindly to being touched," Severus
said.
"I guessed that. I wouldn't dream of disturbing your books, sir, but I can't
vouch for Hermione. She would just love to read all of those."
"You could be right. Have a seat, Harry. May I call you Harry?"
"Oh, what? Yes, sir." Harry sat down on the sofa and peered up at him through
his glasses.
"For you to learn Occlumency as best you can, we need to be relaxed and we need
to trust each other. In this room I can't be your nasty professor or it would
never work. You have to trust me in this and I have to trust you enough to know
that you would never reveal what our lessons contained."
"I understand, sir. It has to be secret, for the war effort and all that. I do
trust you, sir."
"Do you? You weren't so sure of me last year, were you?" Severus felt a tight
band squeeze his chest when he realized that, after all he'd done, all his
sacrifices for the Light, he still wasn't trusted.
"I used to get terrible nightmares and visions from him after our Occlumency
lessons. I thought you were actually trying to destroy my mind, make it easier
for Vol - the Dark Lord to get into it. So, no, I didn't trust you, then, but I
do now. I know now that it was you who alerted the Order and sent them to the
Ministry that night. If they hadn't turned up, more of us might have died and
not just my godfather. You saved us, sir. Thank you."
Severus, unusually for him, was at a loss for words. He turned towards the
fireplace and clasped his hands behind his back. Yes, it was obvious now that
Harry trusted him and it was Severus' turn to show that he trusted Harry.
Severus took a deep breath, dismissing Dumbledore's voice in his mind. The
Wizarding world expected the Chosen One to save them all, but hardly any of
them gave any thought to the flesh and blood person that Harry was. He wasn't
just their saviour, he was a scared sixteen-year-old who should have been
worrying about exams and girls (or boys, Severus' mind supplied) and not how to
bring down a Dark Lord. Severus was going to give Harry what no one had given
him before. Severus was going to give him the truth.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Part 6
 
Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower, his mind reeling. His arms clutched
several books that Snape had given him on meditation and relaxation techniques,
but Harry's mind wasn't on the books. No, it was on the other things Snape had
told him that night. Harry's scar was a Horcrux. That's why the connection
between them was so strong. That was why Harry could speak Parseltongue. It was
because Voldemort spoke it and Harry had part of Voldemort's soul inside him.
Harry shuddered as he ascended the grand staircase. It was after one in the
morning; he and Snape had talked for hours and it was well beyond curfew. But
even Filch and his dratted cat seemed to have turned in for the night, for
Harry saw no one on the stairs as he made his way back to the tower. The common
room was empty of students, but the fire and lanterns were still lit. Harry
sank into one of the sofas nearest the fire and set the books on the floor by
his feet. He knew he wouldn't get any sleep tonight, his mind was still reeling
from Snape's revelations.
Deep down, though, Harry had suspected something like this. Dumbledore's
answers after Harry's misadventures in the Chamber of Secrets had always seemed
a little trite, a little too convenient, as if they'd been rehearsed.
Dumbledore had known what Harry's scar was and yet had never bothered to tell
him. And of course Dumbledore had never told Harry that because Harry's scar
was a Horcrux, Harry, too, would have to die to defeat the Dark Lord. No, it
was Snape who'd told Harry the truth and Harry could sense too that Snape
didn't want Harry to be an unknowing sacrifice, so he'd hidden nothing and told
him everything: that he would have to be a willing sacrifice, and that the
other Horcruxes would have to be destroyed before he went to his death. His,
and Voldemort's, hopefully.
Harry didn't want to die. He didn't want to be the Chosen One and all that rot,
but because he housed part of Voldemort's soul, Harry knew that it had to be
this way. There was no other option, there was no chance of this passing over
him to someone else. It had to be Harry. No, he didn't want to die, but he
didn't want to let his friends and the rest of the Wizarding world suffer under
Voldemort for eternity, for if Voldemort could truly make himself immortal,
that's what it would be. An eternity of suffering for everyone else.
Dumbledore had lied to him for years, had allowed Harry leeway that he wouldn't
have given any other student. He'd ignored Harry's penchant for wandering the
halls at night, he'd even given him the method to do it. Suddenly receiving his
father's Invisibility Cloak didn't seem such a gift, but a ploy by Dumbledore
to keep Harry at Hogwarts, where Dumbledore could keep an eye on him as he
waited for his perfect weapon to mature. Dumbledore's kind grandfather act was
just that, an act. He seemed to have no qualms about sending Harry to his death
as long as it defeated Voldemort at the same time. Harry wasn't sure how his
death would also bring about Voldemort's, but he was too tired to try and
figure it out.
Snape had told Harry more than just his destiny to die. Harry learned that
Snape and his mother had grown up together, on the same street even, and he'd
shown Harry some Muggle photographs of the two of them together, seeming to be
best friends. How Petunia had been so enamoured of magic as a child that she'd
even written to Dumbledore to ask if she could come to Hogwarts with Lily.
Harry couldn't reconcile that child Petunia with the woman he knew who tried to
beat the magic out of him with every breath.
Other people had known about Snape and Lily's childhood friendship, but not one
of them had seen fit to mention it to Harry. Sirius knew, Professor Lupin knew
and Dumbledore knew, but none had ever told him. Didn't they know how much
Harry hungered for news of his mother? People hardly ever mentioned her; it was
all James this and James that. As Harry thumbed through the photos, he had to
wonder if there had been more than friendship between them. Is that why Snape
had been so awful to Harry those first few years of school? Had Harry been a
reminder of what Snape had lost? Lily's love and perhaps their child? Harry
didn't ask, though, he knew it was too impertinent, but the thought lingered
long after the photo album had been closed.
Harry stared into the fire, his thoughts in turmoil. He needed help to find the
Horcruxes and he'd tentatively asked Snape if he could confide in Ron and
Hermione. Snape had acquiesced, but only in regards to the other Horcruxes. Not
that Harry's scar was one or that he needed to die. Harry knew he couldn't tell
his friends that, no matter how much he wanted to confide in someone. There was
only one person at Hogwarts he could confide in now. The only person who told
him the truth no matter how awful those truths were.
Harry's only confidant was Severus Snape.
 
***
 
"Harry, you look awful!" said Hermione at breakfast. "You're so pale, are you
feeling all right? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"
"I didn't get much sleep last night," said Harry. Try none at all. "Could you
and Ron meet me in the Room of Requirement at lunchtime?"
"Of course," said Hermione and Ron nodded as he was still devouring his
sausages.
 
***
 
True to their word, Ron and Hermione met Harry outside the Room of Requirement
at lunchtime. When they entered the Room, Harry noticed that it had taken on a
facsimile of the Weasleys' kitchen, although without the table and some squashy
sofas and armchairs instead of the wooden dining ones. A fire was burning in
the grate and Harry stared into the flames for a few moments as he wondered
what to say to them.
In the end, everything tumbled out except for the facts about his scar.
"Horcruxes?" asked Hermione. "I've never heard of those. I'm sure I'd remember
that if I'd read it somewhere."
"Yes, Professor Snape said you were good at research, that's why he agreed I
needed both your help."
Hermione's cheeks pinked. "He said I was good at research?"
"Yes." Harry smiled at her; he too knew how disconcerting it was to be on the
receiving end of compliments from Professor Snape instead of put-downs. "But
the trouble is, we don't know what the remaining ones are. I can't look at
Dumbledore's memories because of my scar, I'm too connected to Voldemort and he
can sense me, even in a memory. It's too dangerous. Any ideas?"
"What was the ring like, the one Professor Dumbledore destroyed?" asked Ron.
"Maybe knowing more about it would give us some clues."
"It was a dark stone, darker than a ruby but it wasn't black. Maroon, I think.
It was cracked down the middle where Dumbledore had destroyed the Horcrux in
it." Harry closed his eyes to better visualise it. "It was an odd shape for a
gemstone, almost like a diamond you'd see on a pack of cards."
"A diamond shaped-stone set into a ring?" Ron glanced towards Hermione, who
nodded.
"Harry, I think that ring might have been one of the Deathly Hallows," said
Hermione.
"But that's just a story," said Ron. "It's a fairy tale for children. They're
not real, Hermione."
"But they might be," Hermione persisted. "But if that's true, and Voldemort
knows about them, that's very bad. If he can gather all three Hallows, he'll
become the Master of Death. Just because something was written in a tale
doesn't necessarily mean it isn't true. What better way to preserve arcane
knowledge than by hiding it in a children's tale that is passed down from
generation to generation?"
"So now we have to find these Hallows thingies as well as Horcruxes?" asked
Ron, voicing Harry's thoughts.
"There are supposedly three Hallows," said Hermione. "But the book gives a
description. There's the Resurrection Stone, which might have been on that
ring, the Cloak of Invisibility and the Elder Wand."
"Cloak of Invisibility? You don't think my Dad's cloak is one of these things,
do you?"
"Maybe," said Hermione. "It does seem rather strange that Professor Dumbledore
gave it to you. Why wasn't it still with your father? I think Dumbledore was
probably testing it, to see if it really was one of the Hallows. But if it is,
why wouldn't he have told you about it?"
Harry thought he might know the answer to that but it wasn't one he could share
with Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore hadn't told Harry about the Hallows because
he didn't want Harry to use them. Dumbledore was relying on Harry's death to
defeat Voldemort.
 
***
 
"Again!" said Snape. "You aren't trying!"
"I am! I'm trying to block you!" Harry protested.
"Not hard enough! Do you think this is some sort of game? The Dark Lord doesn't
play fair, he plays to win and you are just making it easy for him!
Legilimens!"
Harry hadn't expected the spell so soon after the last one and he felt his body
tense as he tried to block Snape's mind from his. There were lots of things in
there that Harry didn't want anyone to know, never mind Snape, but of course
just thinking about them brought them to the forefront of his mind. There,
Harry wanking in the shower; there, Harry in bed, thrusting against the
mattress and burying his cries of release against his pillow. Harry reading the
Half-Blood Prince's Potions book as his hand wandered below the blankets. God,
Snape would think he never did anything else but wank! Harry tried to place
other memories but all he could think of now was every time he'd masturbated,
and Snape saw a lot more of Harry than he was comfortable with.
"Enough." Snape cancelled the spell and Harry sank down on the sofa, clasping
his hands in front of his lap. He wished he'd worn robes tonight; his erection
was too visible in just trousers. Harry's whole body felt flushed. Snape was
facing the fireplace, perhaps giving Harry some time to calm down.
"Do not be embarrassed, Harry," Snape said softly. "Everyone does it, it's
nothing to be ashamed of. Although now I know why you've been getting so good
at Potions. Professor Slughorn was most impressed with you. Tell me, how are
you finding my notes?" Snape turned around and smirked at him.
"Your notes, sir? You're the Half-Blood Prince?"
"Indeed. My father was a Muggle, my mother was a witch and her maiden name was
Prince. It was my little joke. Not that I want to cast aspersions on any member
of staff, but Professor Slughorn's lessons left something to be desired and I
relied on my own skill."
"Would you like your book back, Professor?" asked Harry. "I'm still waiting for
a new one to arrive from Flourish & Blotts."
"No, you may keep it. But I would like something in return."
For some strange reason, Harry's mind went quickly to all those memories Snape
had seen and he flushed again, wondering if Snape was going to demand a kiss or
something even more than that.
"Sir?" Harry squawked.
"I'd like you to tell me why you were removed from your relatives' care so soon
this summer and why the headmaster has forbidden you to return there."
Oh. That wasn't what Harry was expecting at all and he wasn't sure how he could
talk about it. "Um, do you know all the gadgets in Professor Dumbledore's
office?"
"I've seen them, yes, but I don't know what they do."
"Well, I only know what some of them do because Dumbledore told me this summer.
There are three that are monitoring me, monitoring my heart rate, my lungs and
my brain function. This summer was the first one where all three alarms went
off at once."
"What? You mean you were dying?" Snape held onto the wood of the mantelpiece,
as if afraid he might fall without its support. "But why? What happened? I'm
sure I would have heard of a planned Death Eater attack."
"It wasn't Death Eaters," said Harry softly. "It was my uncle. He hated me, he
hated magic and anything to do with it. I was grieving for my godfather, I
wasn't thinking straight. I should have known by now not to talk back to him.
It was my fault, I provoked him."
Snape hunkered down in front of the sofa and clasped Harry's hands in his. "No,
Harry. You were not at fault. Your uncle was at fault for abusing someone in
his care. They were supposed to look after you, keep you safe."
Harry snorted. Safe? He'd never been safe in that house and this year
Dumbledore had finally realised that he never would be and Harry would never
have to go back. But that wasn't the real reason, was it? Dumbledore didn't
care when Harry was being beaten and being starved every summer, he only cared
when Harry's life was in danger; he needed Harry to die at the right time.
"But your aunt, Petunia, she cared for you, didn't she? She loved magic."
"Not anymore," said Harry. "I was always a freak to her. Unnatural. Soiled.
Corrupted. Even more when she found out I was..." Harry trailed off, unsure if
he could trust Snape with that news. If he could trust anyone with that news.
"You were what, Harry?" Snape looked deep into his eyes and Harry found it
strange that Snape seemed so concerned for him.
"That I was gay," Harry said, glancing at their clasped hands. "She found me
one morning - you know - touching myself. I'd taken one of her clothes
catalogues and was looking at the swimwear models. The male ones."
"That doesn't necessarily make you gay. Adolescents have a tendency to
experiment a bit. You might just be curious."
"It's more than curiosity," said Harry firmly. "I've had one date with a girl
and it was a disaster. Even when we kissed I felt nothing at all. But what does
it matter? I'm going to die soon anyway, I can't even ask some bloke out. It
would put them in too much danger if the Dark Lord ever found out. I'm not
scared of dying. I know it has to be done and that it has to be me. I'd do
anything to keep him from hurting my friends, from hurting anyone I care about
ever again. Maybe it's better this way. That I don't find someone to fall in
love with. I'm just upset about all those things I'll never do. Never get
married, never have children. Mind you, me liking blokes probably rules that
out anyway. I just - I'd just like to know what it would feel like, even if
it's just once. But I'm resigned to the fact that I'm going to die a virgin."
Harry blushed again and hung his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say all that.
It just sort of came out."
"There's no need to apologise, Harry. It sounds like you've been thinking about
things for some time. Legilimency always makes one a bit emotional afterwards;
it's all that rooting about in someone's mind. It can engender a closeness that
isn't really there. I know you can't really talk to your friends about this,
they don't know about your scar or what you have to do, do they?"
Harry shook his head. "They wouldn't understand. They'd plot and plan and try
to come up with some way of getting me out of it, but there isn't any other
way, is there? I have to die or the Dark Lord lives on and takes over
everything. It's not that I'm suicidal or that I want to die, but I've accepted
it, you know? That it has to be this way."
"Harry, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye in the past, but if you do
need to talk to someone, you may come to me. I'm not sure that I can help, but
I will do my best to listen."
"Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me. I'm sorry for dumping all this on you,
you've been very patient with me."
"I try to be. After all, we're working to the same goal now and we both know
it. But it's getting late, you should head back to your dorm now."
"Yes, sir. Thanks again," said Harry.
"Goodnight, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."
***** Chapter 7 *****
Part 7
 
Severus had been a spy for the best part of twenty years; he thought his
observational skills were as honed as he could make them and that nothing got
past him. He'd had a blind spot where Harry Potter was concerned. How could he
have missed this for so long? It was only now, after Harry's revelations this
evening and Severus' previous forays into Harry's mind, that he put two and two
together.
The locked cupboard under the stairs wasn't a punishment for a wayward child,
it had been where Harry lived. It was more like a nest than a bedroom, with a
dirty, thin blanket and a pillow that had lost most of its stuffing. Severus
closed his eyes, seeing again the few broken toys and crayons that had littered
the shelves. On the back wall, a younger Harry had drawn words on the wall of
his home: My name is Boy.
Not once, not once in all the different memories Severus had viewed, had they
ever called him by his name. It was "boy" or "freak" or, more often, just
"you." Harry Potter hadn't known his own name until he'd started primary school
and the teacher called the roll. Severus was surprised the Dursleys even let
him out to go to school; weren't they concerned their neglect and abuse would
be discovered?
But it seemed they'd worn Harry down and he never told anyone what had happened
to him in that house. How could Dumbledore send Harry back there year after
year, when it was obvious that he knew some abuse took place—otherwise, why
bother with monitoring Harry's health? Severus could understand Harry's
reticence to speak of such things, but he was glad that he'd made some progress
tonight. Maybe they would never be the best of friends, for Severus still
couldn't forget completely that Harry was James Potter's son, but he was also
Lily's. "Lily, how can you forgive me? I should have seen the truth sooner. I
should have done something."
Severus' Floo flared into life, startling him, and he whirled around to the
fireplace.
"Severus. It's Harry. You're urgently needed in the infirmary," said Dumbledore
as he left the fire, leaving room for Severus to use it.
Severus' heart shot into his throat as he spun through the flames. He stepped
out into Poppy Pomfrey's office and made his way to the main ward. Poppy and
Dumbledore were both behind a drawn curtain, tending to the figure on the bed.
Severus marched down the centre aisle between the beds but was brought up short
when he spied Draco Malfoy on one of them. His face was red and blotchy; tears
and snot were falling down his face.
"Professor! Tell them I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! I didn't know!"
"Draco, what have you done?"
"He - he - surprised me. I didn't think anyone else would be there! No one was
supposed to be there! I panicked and I said the first spell that popped into my
head, but I didn't know what it did. I swear I didn't know!"
"What spell did you use, Draco?" Severus asked, trying to remain calm, when his
heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest and he could almost feel Lily's
ghost hovering over his shoulder.
"I saw it in one of my father's books. Sectumsempra. I'm sorry, sir. I don't
know the counter curse."
No, he wouldn't, for there wasn't a counter curse, there never had been.
Severus rushed to the curtained bed and yanked the curtain wide. "Poppy, get as
many blood replenishing solutions as you can. Dittany as well, if we're quick
we can reduce the scarring somewhat."
Poppy nodded and rushed off to her stores. Severus laid his hands above Harry's
body and gently sang, "Vulnera Sanentur," a healing chant to stop the blood
loss, close off the cuts and knit the wounds back together. Potter's clothes
were slashed like a ripped canvas and so was his skin; the worst marks were on
his arms and legs, but his face had quite a few, as well. Potter had been
placed in a healing sleep or he would have been screaming in agony. Severus
sang the chant until Poppy returned, her apron pockets clinking with the potion
vials she had no doubt secreted there.
"The wounds have closed; he will not lose any more blood. He might still be at
risk of an infection or blood poisoning, but I think we got here in time."
"Thank goodness for that, Severus!" said Dumbledore and led Severus over to one
of the unoccupied beds. He cast a silencing bubble around both of them.
"Severus, this is very serious. One of your students almost killed Harry. I'm
afraid I have no choice, I am going to have to expel Draco."
"You can't!" Severus hissed. "If you expel him you are sending him straight
into the Dark Lord's hands. If he's lucky, he'll be made a Death Eater; if not,
you'll be sending him to his death."
"Severus, Harry is too important to the cause to lose."
"Don't you mean not yet? You just don't want him killed yet."
"I cannot allow this danger to Harry to remain unchecked. We both know Draco
was charged with killing me, but what if his master gave him other orders? What
if he is supposed to kill Harry as well? Maybe there are others in the school
who have the same orders. If Draco remains a student here, then we must take
steps to ensure Harry's safety within the castle."
Severus should have known he would regret asking, but the words popped out
before he was even aware of them.
"What do you suggest?"
"Both of you are connected to Voldemort." Severus winced at the name, but
Dumbledore didn't seem to notice and carried on regardless. "I should have
realised this sooner. If you bond with Harry, you will be able to track him and
can come to his aid when needed. You would be able to share your thoughts and
feelings so you'd know when he was in danger."
It didn't escape Severus' notice that tonight Harry had confessed his upset
over never getting married and here Dumbledore was proposing that very thing.
"Albus, are you insane? You want me, who can be Called at any moment, to bond
and marry the Boy Who Lived? How do you expect us to keep something like that
secret from the Dark Lord?"
"He's never suspected anything before, has he?" asked Dumbledore. "You're a
formidable Occlumens, Severus, otherwise I wouldn't even be asking this of you.
Don't you want to keep him safe? For Lily?"
"Don't you dare bring her into this!" snapped Severus. "Bonding would only keep
Harry safe if it was a full bonding, you know that as well as I."
"I know that, Severus. I know you both would have to consummate the marriage,
otherwise the protective magics wouldn't take."
"How can you calmly stand there and discuss the defilement of a sixteen-year-
old boy?"
"There's no need to be crude, Severus."
"Isn't there? I won't do this, Albus! This is going too far!"
"Severus, there are still debts outstanding on your account, my boy."
"Don't call me your boy! You would invoke a life debt to make me do this?"
"I would. Harry needs to be safe at school, Severus, and this bonding would
allow that."
Severus shook his head. "Isn't there someone else better suited to this task?
Someone from the Order? One of his friends?"
"Harry's friends are not magically strong enough, and while I agree it does
have to be someone from the Order, it has to be someone older, someone better
able to protect him. Remus is out due to his affliction and we need Kingsley at
the Ministry. It has to be you, Severus."
"If I do this, he has to agree on his own terms. I will not force this bonding
on him, is that clear?"
"Very well, Severus. Do you wish to discuss this with Harry or shall I?"
"This is your idea, Albus. I want that made very clear. You will be the one to
tell Harry, not me."
"Very well, Severus. I will let him know." Dumbledore cancelled the privacy
bubble and returned to Harry's bedside. He pulled the privacy curtain across
and Severus took the opportunity to return to Draco's bedside. Poppy was
already there and was just removing a glass full of cloudy liquid from his
hand. Calming Draught and a sleep aid. Severus had never seen Draco so upset
before; in fact, he couldn't even remember ever seeing him cry before, and he
wanted to get to the truth of the matter. He would get no sense out of Draco
tonight. Even if Draco had been fully coherent, Severus wondered if he'd get to
the bottom of what happened with Harry.
"Severus, sit down before you fall down!" ordered Poppy, pulling out a chair
from beside Draco's bed. "Chanting magic takes a lot out of you. I didn't even
know you were a Chanter. It's not a common skill nowadays; they no longer even
teach it here."
"My mother taught me," said Severus. "She and my grandmother were both
Chanters. It was highly prized in the Prince line." Severus sank into the
chair, realising that his whole body was trembling with the afteraffects of the
Chant. Healing Chants took on some of the Chanter's power and funnelled it into
the patient. He'd forgotten how tired it could make you feel. "I haven't used
it that often, I was just glad I remembered how."
"So am I, Severus. There was nothing I could do to aid Harry; all my healing
spells were useless in the face of that spell. If you hadn't known that Healing
Chant, we would have lost him. What kind of monster invents spells that harm
people but don't even bother with a counter-curse?"
Severus didn't answer; how could he? How could he tell Poppy Pomfrey, a woman
he admired and respected, that he was the one responsible for that curse?
Lucius Malfoy must have seen Severus' Potions book at school and taken note of
the curse that Severus had labelled "for enemies." Lucius wouldn't have been
interested in any of Severus' potions instructions, just the things that would
hurt people. Draco may have cast the curse, but it was Severus' fault that
Harry Potter had almost died tonight. No matter how much he tried to atone for
the sins of his past, Severus knew they would forever haunt him.
He looked up on hearing the click of boots across the tiled floor of the
infirmary. "Severus," said Dumbledore. "Harry would like to speak with you."
"Have you told him your plans?" Severus asked, rising from the chair, but he
had to hold onto the back of it to steady himself.
"I have, Severus, and he now wishes to speak with you."
"What plans?" asked Poppy, glancing from one to the other.
"Just something that will protect Harry from future assaults like this one. I
have asked Severus to become something of a bodyguard for Harry, if you will."
Severus' jaw clenched at the blatant lie. Poppy deserved better but he knew he
couldn't reveal the truth, either. "I will talk to him."
"Not too long, Severus," said Poppy. "Harry has been through an ordeal, he
needs to rest."
"I will try my best to be brief," Severus promised but he thought that how long
it took would depend on what Harry wanted to know. And of this Severus was
sure: Harry could talk as long as he wanted to.
Harry was sitting propped up against his pillows and the metal headboard of the
hospital bed. Instead of the slashed clothes, he was now wearing a pair of pale
blue pyjamas. His eyes were wide awake and alert, but his normal rosy-cheeked
complexion had given way to a face so pale it could have been carved from
marble. No scars on his face were visible, none except for that one. Poppy had
applied the dittany in time.
"How are you feeling?" Severus asked, hovering by the side of Harry's bed.
Harry smiled wanly and waved to the chair. "At least sit down, sir. I can't
talk to you while you hover about like that."
Severus sat and clasped his hands in his lap; they were still trembling and he
didn't want Harry to think he was nervous.
"I'm still a bit sore and a bit tired, but I'm on the mend. Thank you, Madam
Pomfrey told me you saved me again. How many times is it that you've saved my
life now?" Harry grinned and Severus was taken aback. Dumbledore had told him
about the bonding, hadn't he? Why then was Harry so chipper? Shouldn't he be
ranting and raving by now that he would never marry such a filthy pervert?
"Harry, the headmaster: he did tell you of his plans?"
"Oh, about the bonding. Yes, he told me. I was a bit woozy, to be honest, with
the blood replenishing potions, so I'm not sure I understood all of it. He
thinks that if we bond, then things like what had happened with Draco won't
happen again. How is Draco, by the way?"
"You're worried about Draco?" Severus asked in surprise.
"Yes, aren't you? If he gets expelled, you know what will happen, don't you?
He'll either get recruited straight into the Dark Lord's ranks or he'll be
killed for failing to kill me. Draco needs to stay at Hogwarts, sir, where
he'll be safe. Is he all right?"
"He was rather distraught," said Severus. "He had no idea what that spell did."
"No, he didn't. I startled him, he wasn't expecting anyone else to go to
Myrtle's bathroom."
"Myrtle's bathroom? Not the ghost who haunts the girls' toilets on the second
floor? What were both of you doing in a girls' bathroom?" Severus demanded
"Nothing untoward," said Harry. "The girls don't go in there anymore, it's
somewhere you can go when you want some privacy. That's what I was doing there;
I just needed some time to think on my own, but I didn't know Draco would be
there." Harry paused, taking a deep breath, and clutched his chest.
"Are you in pain? Shall I fetch Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, it's just a spasm. It's fine now. Anyway, Draco was there and he - he was
crying. He saw me in one of the mirrors and thought I'd come to spy on him. He
cast that spell on me and the next thing I'm lying on the floor in agony and
he's apologising over and over again, still crying and everything. Things are a
bit of a blank after that."
"You passed out from blood loss. You should be completely recovered in a day or
two. But we still need to discuss this bonding. How do you feel about it?"
"Maybe that saying's true, you know, be careful what you wish for There was me
moaning about never having the chance to get married and now Dumbledore wants
us to get married. It's a weird coincidence, isn't it?"
"But how do you feel about it, Harry? Do you wish to bond with me? I will not
agree unless you agree, too. Dumbledore did tell you that the bond would have
to be consummated?"
"Yeah, yeah, he told me that," said Harry, glancing down and playing with a
loose thread on the coverlet. "Forgive me, sir, but you're not exactly the
stuff romantic dreams are made of."
"That's true, so I will tell the headmaster it will not go ahead."
"I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Harry said quickly. "I know Dumbledore only
wants me protected so I can die at the right time for his plans, but I do need
more time to figure out the Horcruxes and how we can find them. I don't love
you, sir, but I do respect you and you've saved me countless times before. I
would be glad of your protection, Professor."
"Harry, you do know what consummation means?"
"Yes, sir. We would - we would have to have sex together."
"And how do you feel about that aspect of things?"
"A bit nervous. A bit embarrassed that I'll make a fool of myself."
"Why would you be embarrassed?" asked Severus, genuinely curious now.
"Because I'm - you know - I haven't done anything before."
"Oh." Severus hadn't expected that at all. "I thought perhaps you and Miss
Weasley or Miss Chang..."
"Ginny? God, no, she's like my little sister! And anyway, I already told you I
was gay. I thought I fancied Cho, but when we kissed there was no spark at all.
I think - I think I had a bit of a crush on Cedric, but I ended up getting him
killed." Harry's eyes glistened and he took off his glasses to rub at them.
"The Dark Lord killed Cedric, Harry, you are not to blame. Cedric was one of
the first casualties but I'm afraid he probably won't be the last. War is like
that."
Harry nodded. "We are at war, aren't we? I need to do everything I can to make
sure our side wins, Professor, and that means staying alive long enough to
destroy the Horcruxes. Sir, I would be grateful if you would bond with me."
It was hardly a declaration of undying love, but Severus knew this was not
meant to be a love match. It was a way to protect Harry. Severus failed in
protecting Lily but he wouldn't fail in protecting her son. "I'd be honoured,
Harry. Shall we tell the headmaster the good news?"
"No," said Harry with a wicked grin. "Let him stew a bit longer."
***** Chapter 8 *****
Part 8
"Everything packed, Harry?" asked Ron as he hunted under his bed for some
errant socks. He rolled them and tossed them into his trunk.
"Yeah, I think so," replied Harry, a nervous flutter in his stomach. This year,
Dumbledore had finally relented and allowed Harry to spend Christmas with the
Weasleys, for a few days at least. Harry knew it wasn't altruism on
Dumbledore's part; Dumbledore just felt obliged to allow Harry to have a treat
before he bonded with Snape on the day after Boxing Day. Harry didn't bother
enlightening the headmaster that he wouldn't find bonding to Snape the chore
Dumbledore thought it was. It upset Harry that Dumbledore thought no one would
ever marry Snape on his own merits.
Harry didn't think he was in love with Snape—not in a romantic sense, at
least—but he had to admit that he did like him, and being married to him was
not the most terrible thing in the world. Before this, Harry hadn't even known
that two wizards could bond just like a witch and wizard could. He'd never
really discussed his sexual orientation with anyone besides Snape, surprised
that Snape was the only person he felt comfortable enough with to discuss it.
The Dursleys certainly hadn't been any help with their rants on shirt-lifters
and nancy-boys.
"I'm so glad Dumbledore agreed to let you come this year," said Ron. "Maybe
it's because of those extra wards Mum and Dad put up over the summer. You'll
love it! There'll be turkey and ham and mince pies and Mum makes the best
Christmas cake and pudding ever."
"I'm sure I will, Ron. Your mum's a great cook."
"Harry, can I ask you something?" Ron closed the lid of his trunk and sat down
beside it on his bed. "You don't fancy Ginny, do you?"
"No, Ron. I like her, but not in that way. She's more like a sister, you know?"
"Ah, good. I just wondered. She's going out with Dean Thomas or was it Michael
Corner? I've lost track. Anyway, I just hoped you weren't upset that she was
going out with someone else."
"Nope. I'm happy for her." Harry was very glad Ginny had seemed to get over her
crush and he wouldn't have to worry about being so wary around her.
"No, you shouldn't be happy," said Ron with a broad grin. "As her honorary
older brother you should be upset and not like who she's going out with. It's
like a tradition, isn't it?"
Harry laughed and gathered up his trunk. "Come on, we don't want to keep them
waiting."
***
Harry had loved the Burrow from his very first visit there when he was twelve
and the twins and Ron had rescued him from his locked bedroom. Thinking of some
of the things he'd endured at Privet Drive drove the breath from him for a few
moments, but he shook his head. They couldn't hurt him any more. However,
nothing could have prepared Harry for the sight of the crooked house dusted
with a layer of snow and bedecked with hundreds of coloured lights and garlands
of ivy and holly. It was like stepping straight into a fairy tale, and Harry
rapidly blinked his watering eyes before Ginny or Ron saw.
Molly Weasley was waiting by the front door, an apron over her dress and her
face dusted with flour. She beamed at them all and wrapped them all in a hug,
embracing Harry last and pinching his cheeks. "You're so thin!" she wailed.
"Haven't you been eating? Well, we'll soon change that. Leave your trunks
upstairs. Dinner will be about half an hour, so you've time to freshen up
before dinner."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry. "And thank you for having me."
"Nonsense, it's no trouble dear. You're always welcome here, Harry. Remember
that."
Harry nodded, his throat so tight he couldn't speak. He followed Ron upstairs
to the room below the attic and set his trunk down on the camp bed which sat
opposite Ron's narrow bed. Harry fussed about, unpacking clothes and presents
until he'd calmed somewhat and didn't feel as if he was about to burst into
tears at any minute. Ron was quiet too, as if he sensed Harry needed some time
to compose himself.
Once they'd both used the bathroom and changed out of their uniform robes, both
of them made their way downstairs, each carrying a bundle of Harry's presents
to the Weasleys to place under the tree. The tree was over seven foot tall and
stood at one end of the kitchen, gaily wrapped parcels in a waterfall beneath
it. A real fairy stood at the top of the tree, dressed in a white lacy dress
and wings that shimmered with sliver and gold. Baubles of glass etched with
silver winter scenes, silver and purple ribbons, garlands of silver and purple
tinsel along with hundreds of miniature candles decorated the branches of pine.
Harry smiled as he settled his gifts beneath the tree; this tree was about as
far away from Aunt Petunia's plastic, tacky tree and ugly decorations as it was
possible to get. Aromas of roast beef and gravy were emanating from the old-
fashioned range as Molly bustled to and fro getting the food ready. Ron and
Harry got down the plates while Ginny set the table and the twins sorted out
glasses and jugs of pumpkin juice and lemonade for everyone.
Arthur wasn't yet home from work; the magical clock had his hand at
'travelling', as were Bill and Charlie's. Percy's hand read 'unavailable' and
Harry felt as if a stone had just dropped into his stomach. It was because of
him that there was such a rift in the Weasley family and he wondered how they
could still be so welcoming, even inviting him to spend Christmas with them.
Arthur, Bill and Charlie all arrived within minutes of each other and the
kitchen was awash with greetings, smiles, laughs and back-slaps as everyone
caught up. It was all so normal, so homely, and so unlike anything Harry had
ever experienced at Privet Drive. This was his first real family Christmas and
Harry damped down on the knowledge that it would probably be his last as well.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. They were all here now and he wasn't
going to spoil it by thinking of what was going to happen in the future. Bill
and Charlie ruffled Harry's hair and said how much he'd grown, but Harry
forgave them the lie. He hadn't grown an inch since he last saw them in fourth
year and he knew his earlier malnutrition was to blame. No chance of being
starved at the Weasleys'.
Once all the food and drink were placed on the table, everyone sat down and
began helping themselves from the full bowls and platters in the middle of the
table. "We don't stand on ceremony here, Harry. Eat as much as you like," said
Molly. Harry smiled at her and did just that.
***
It was the best Christmas Harry had ever had. Instead of doing all the cooking
and not getting to eat any of it, food was plentiful at the Burrow and he
received more gifts from the Weasleys than he ever had in all his time with the
Dursleys. Harry couldn't have been made more welcome than if he really had been
a part of the family.
Days were spent listening to the Wizarding Wireless, playing games, messing
about in the snow building snowmen and having snowball fights. After their
exertions in the cold, Mrs. Weasley made hot chocolate with marshmallows for
everyone. Harry wasn't that keen on hot drinks, but he downed his hot chocolate
without complaint, not wanting to be impolite. One day Harry accidentally
spilled some of his chocolate on the floor and Molly ranted and shouted at him
as if he was truly one of her children. She blushed and sputtered an apology,
but it wasn't needed. Harry felt then as if he did finally belong somewhere.
Much too soon his holiday with the Weasleys was drawing to a close and his
bonding to Professor Snape took up prominence in his mind. Once Harry had
realised he preferred boys to girls, he hadn't really given marriage much
thought, not knowing that two men could marry in the Wizarding world at the
time. What would it feel like to be with another man in a sexual way? Harry was
very hazy on the world of sex; the Dursleys were prudes and had never told him
anything or let him and Dudley take the sexual education class at primary
school. He knew the theory, that some men had anal sex with each other, and he
wondered if it would be very painful.
As the day after Boxing Day drew nearer, Harry thought about it more and more.
Snape had been more of a proper teacher now that each of them knew where they
stood in the grand scheme of things, so Harry hoped he wouldn't be too upset if
he had to teach Harry about sex as well. Harry grinned to himself in the dark
of Ron's bedroom; those lessons were bound to be more interesting than
schoolwork.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Part 9
 
The day after Boxing Day, Harry and Ron were woken by a knock on the bedroom
door and Molly's voice calling out through the wood. "Harry, dear, Professor
Snape is here to see you. Why don't you have your shower now and breakfast will
be ready by the time you're done?"
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, stifling a yawn. Ron was still groggy,
turning over on his bed and pulling his pillow over his head.
"Too early," he mumbled from beneath the pillow, then shot up from under it.
"Snape? Did Mum just say Snape was here?"
"Yep." Harry tried and failed to keep the grin off his face. Ron looked
horrified: his eyes wide and his face pale beneath his freckles. "What's Snape
doing here?"
"More lessons, I suppose," said Harry. "You knew I was only supposed to stay
for a few days." Harry tried to tell himself that it wasn't a lie, not really,
as he suspected he and Snape would be having lessons during the rest of the
Christmas hols. He just didn't tell Ron that they would be married while having
those lessons. "Do you want the bathroom first?"
"Naw, you go ahead," said Ron. "I'll just rest my eyes for a bit." Ron turned
over and to Harry's amazement, in a few moments he was fast asleep, and snoring
mildly. Harry could never go to sleep that quickly, too many thoughts churning
round his head. He took his soap bag and a change of clothes to the bathroom to
have his shower.
The hot water and a good scrubbing refreshed him somewhat, but he still had a
nervous flutter in his stomach as he wondered about their wedding night. Snape
was older, so Harry hoped he knew what he was doing, for Harry certainly
didn't. His only experience was his own right hand, and even that pleasure was
soured somewhat with the memories of Petunia catching him at it. He'd never
really felt comfortable in his own skin, even going so far as to shower on his
own at school after the other Quidditch players had left the changing rooms.
Dried and dressed, Harry returned to Ron's bedroom to find Ron shrinking all of
his presents and placing them in Harry's trunk with a levitation spell. "Ron!
What are you doing?" Harry demanded, seeing visions of Ron locked in that
horrible courtroom as the Ministry threatened to break his wand for using
underage magic.
"I was just shrinking all these so they'd fit in your trunk."
"But you're underage! We're not supposed to use magic outside of school."
"Technically, that's true," said Ron. "Tell him, Bill." Bill had appeared in
the doorway and lounged against the jamb in a very relaxed fashion. Harry
blushed a little and poked at his clothes on the camp bed. He always had felt a
bit flustered in Bill's company. He was so roguishly handsome; with the earring
and long hair and his penchant for dragon leather, he reminded Harry of a
Muggle rock star.
"The Ministry doesn't track every person's magic, Harry, just each household.
They know there are adult wizards at the Burrow, so they can't tell whether it
was one of them who cast the spell or any underage residents. But since you
were the only wizard registered at Privet Drive, they would know it was you who
performed any magic."
"What about house-elves? Dobby cast a hover charm there when I was twelve, but
it was me who was blamed."
"Ah, house-elves are a law unto themselves. Their grasp and understanding of
magic is way beyond the Ministry of Magic; they wouldn't have known a house-elf
did it. It just wouldn't register. Any magic performed at Privet Drive would
have been assumed to have come from you."
"Oh, I see," said Harry, still not looking at Bill.
"Mum sent me up to get you both for breakfast."
"I'll be right down," said Harry, who knew he couldn't avoid this meeting with
Snape forever.
"I'll shower first," said Ron, heading to the doorway. "I don't want to see
Snape for longer than I have to."
"Snape's all right," said Bill and Harry was glad that at least someone else
thought so, too.
Harry and Bill headed downstairs, where large platters of scrambled egg,
sausages, bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes, beans were sitting on the scrubbed wooden
table. Snape was hovering by the fireplace and Harry almost did a double take.
He'd never seen Snape in any colours but black and white before.
Today Snape was wearing a navy-blue velvet robe, trimmed with Celtic artwork on
the collar and cuffs in silver, a silver shirt peeking out from the high
collar. Snape's hair looked different, too; it hung in soft curls to his
shoulders and shimmered in the light. It seemed that Snape had made quite an
effort in his appearance and Harry felt his heart fall to somewhere near his
feet. He hadn't realised his dress needed to be so formal for the bonding.
Harry was wearing a pair of black trousers, a white shirt and over that his
Weasley jumper, which was dark green with patterns of golden snitches on it.
His clothes suddenly made him feel very childish.
"Would you like something to eat, Severus?" asked Molly as she placed plain
white plates on the table. "There's plenty here."
"Thank you, no. I've already breakfasted at Hogwarts."
"How about a cup of tea or coffee, then?"
"Thank you, tea would be welcome."
"Tea coming up. How about you, Harry? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?"
"Just juice for me, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"Harry doesn't like hot drinks," Snape said, surprising both Harry and Molly.
Snape had remembered that?
"But you drank hot chocolate yesterday," Molly pointed out.
"I think Harry was just being polite," said Snape and Harry nodded.
"Ach, Harry, there's no need to be polite here! I've raised seven children,
nothing you say would be a surprise, I assure you." She smiled and ruffled his
hair as she passed.
Harry tucked into his breakfast while Molly made the tea. She brought over
Severus' cup and handed it to him. "Black with lemon. Just how you like it,
Severus."
Snape gaped at her. "Thank you, but how did you know how I like my tea?"
"How many meetings have we shared, Severus? I just noticed."
Harry smiled into his scrambled eggs, pleased that Molly had noticed how Snape
took his tea. Snape had always seemed so aloof and friendless, but even if
Snape didn't know it, he had friends and Molly Weasley was one of them. Snape
sat down at the table opposite Harry and sipped his tea while Harry finished
his breakfast. Used to being starved while he was at the Dursleys, Harry never
liked to miss food when it was on offer and he was going to have breakfast,
bonding or no bonding.
He caught Snape staring at him over the rim of his teacup. When Snape noticed,
he blushed and looked away. Could it be that he was nervous, too, of their
impending bonding and consummation? Harry didn't feel quite so nervous now that
he knew both of them were in the same boat.
Once breakfast was finished, goodbyes were said and Harry's trunk had been
shrunk to fit in Snape's pocket, they made their way outside and to the side of
the house, away from the windows.
"I'm sorry, sir," said Harry, waving to Snape's attire. "I didn't realise I had
to dress formally for the bonding."
"It's a tradition, nothing more," said Snape. "It isn't a requirement."
"I like traditions," said Harry. "So what is the tradition for bonding wear
these days?"
"Usually the couple each buy a new outfit and the usual colours are silver and
blue. Black is strongly discouraged, as that is more for funerals than
weddings."
"Do we have time to do some shopping before the ceremony, then? I'd like to
stick with tradition too, Professor."
"We do. Harry, I think it's about time you called me Severus when we are in
private. I am to be your husband soon and it would feel weird for you to keep
calling me 'sir' in that instance. Just remember not to call me Severus in
class. Although I do admit I'd love to see the look on the other students'
faces if you did."
"I'll remember," said Harry, grinning. "First shopping, then wedding."
Severus held out his arm. "Have you Apparated before?"
"Not by myself. I've just gone with Dumbledore. It made me feel a bit ill; most
magical travel does, except flying."
"You're a natural on a broom, Harry. Even more so than your blasted father ever
was."
"Please, can we not mention anyone else today? This bonding is just us. I'm not
my father."
"I'm sorry. That was ill-done of me, I know you are not he, and you're right.
This bonding is between the two of us and no one else should get in the way
today."
"Shall we go?" Harry held out his hand and in short order was whisked away in a
blur of sounds and colours.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Part 10
 
Harry looked striking in robes of peacock blue embroidered with silver flowers,
and Severus found it difficult to tear his eyes away from the vision of male
beauty in front of him and concentrate on the celebrant's words. They were in a
small underground grotto beneath Dublin, and Severus was glad their bonding
wouldn't be taking place in a wood-panelled office as it would have been if
they'd got married in the British Ministry of Magic.
The governments of the magical communities of Britain and Ireland had a
reciprocal agreement whereby any bondings taking place on their soil would be
automatically recognised as legal in the other. It meant, though, that the
copies of their bonding certificates would be held in the Dublin Ministry,
rather than London, giving Voldemort and Fudge less chance of discovering that
Severus and Harry were bonded.
The celebrant was a young woman as tall as Severus, with auburn hair hanging in
loose curls down her back and on her head was a wreath of wild flowers. She was
wearing a flowing white dress, almost as if she was a bride rather than the
celebrant, her feet bare as she stood on the stone floor of the grotto. An
underground lake rippled softly to one side of them and the stalagmites and
stalactites glittered in an unseen light source. The woman had no wand, no
objects of office at all, and seeing her bare feet Severus guessed at once that
she was well versed in the old magics of the Earth and had no need of them.
"Severus, Harry. Welcome here to this sacred place to celebrate the occasion of
your bonding. Do both of you come of your own free will without coercion or
force to be bonded according to the magical laws of both our lands?"
"We do," Severus and Harry said together and Severus was pleased to note that
Harry showed no sign of hesitation at all.
"Harry James Potter, do you take Severus Tobias Snape to be your lawful wedded
husband? In sickness and in health for all the days of your lives? Do you
accept his heart, his soul, his magics? Do you promise to be faithful to him
from this point forward?"
"I do," Harry said, risking a glance at Severus and smiling shyly and
surprising him by his choice of vows. Severus had left the choosing of the vows
to Harry, not wanting him to feel any more cornered than they already were by
Dumbledore. Harry had chosen the full, romantic set of vows, including those of
fidelity. Severus was sure that Harry would only have wanted the legal set so
he wouldn't be oath-bound to be faithful to Severus, for Severus couldn't
really imagine that Harry was looking forward to having sex with him.
The celebrant turned to Severus.
"Severus Tobias Snape, do you take Harry James Potter to be your lawful wedded
husband? In sickness and in health for all the days of your lives? Do you
accept his heart, his soul, his magics? Do you promise to be faithful to him
from this point forward?"
"I do," said Severus, feeling his heart lighten as he said the words. This
bonding was never intended for a love match, it was a way to protect Harry, but
hearing those vows Severus wondered if they could grow to love each other. It
suddenly didn't seem such a strange thought.
"Have you each brought a ring?" the celebrant asked.
Both of them nodded, reaching into their robe pockets and removing the plain
silver bands.
"Let these rings stand as a reminder of the promises you have made here today.
The rings are round and eternal, just like your vows. They will each bind you
to the other as lovers and helpmeets. They have no end and no beginning and the
binding cannot be broken by man or magic. Do you wish to be bound by these
rings?"
"We do," Harry and Severus said together, each reaching for the other's left
hand and placing the rings on each other's finger. As Harry's ring settled onto
Severus' hand, he felt the weight of the magic binding it and he almost
staggered. Harry was a lot more powerful than any of them had ever thought. A
soft blue glow glimmered around both rings and then dissipated, the rings now
having runes of protection and fidelity around the edges of them. Severus had
expected a rune of protection to appear on Harry's ring, but not his own. Harry
wanted to protect him, too? It sent a tendril of something unfamiliar and
undefined through his chest and stomach.
Thinking of Harry's power gave Severus cause to wonder if Harry could in fact
defeat Voldemort without dying himself. If anyone could do it, Harry could, and
Severus made a silent vow in addition to their public wedding vows. He would do
everything he could to make sure Harry survived his confrontation with the Dark
Lord.
The celebrant smiled at both of them. "Congratulations, Severus and Harry. May
your union be blessed with joy all the days of your lives."
 
***
 
Harry was still feeling a bit dazed after their wedding as they exited the
Irish Ministry of Magic and stepped out into the winter sunshine of Dublin. "Do
we go back to Hogwarts now, Severus?"
"Not quite yet," said Severus. "I may have played on Dumbledore's sympathies a
bit and I have wangled us a honeymoon for a few days."
"Oh, I hadn't expected that," said Harry, feeling pleased that they were going
to have a honeymoon.
"I thought it best that we consummate our marriage somewhere neutral. Hogwarts
holds too many memories for both of us and I wanted somewhere where we could
make our own memories."
"Thank you, Severus. I agree and that was very thoughtful of you. Where are we
going for the honeymoon?"
"Nowhere too exotic. It's a hotel a short way outside of Dublin, I thought it
prudent since we got married here as well. There's also the fact that you've
still got the Trace on you and international travel would have the Ministry
investigating. Travel between Britain and Ireland isn't regulated."
"What's the Trace?" Harry asked, bemused.
"All underage witches and wizards have the Trace on them. Usually it's a low-
level trace so the Ministry knows where they are. Alarms would only be raised
with international travel if an underage wizard did that. It's mainly to stop
kidnapping of children during divorce cases and one partner tries to take the
children abroad. They wouldn't get very far."
"But we're okay? They won't know we're here?"
"No, they'll just know that a wizard known as Harry Potter is somewhere in the
British Isles and will not investigate that, as Hogwarts is also in the British
Isles and that's where they'd expect you to be."
"Good," said Harry. "I never even knew there was such a thing."
"Most students don't need to know about it, but then you're not most students."
"Some days I wish I was just like most students. It's not fun knowing some
madman is after your blood."
"No," said Severus softly. "It isn't."
"Oh, Severus. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I know you take your life
into your hands every time you go to him. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm not upset. But I'm even more determined than ever that I help you defeat
him. We can't let him win, Harry. We can't."
 
***
 
Harry was surprised and pleased to see that their hotel was in fact a castle,
but not as large as Hogwarts. They'd already glamoured their robes to look like
Muggle clothing before they made their way by taxi to Clontarf Castle Hotel.
Ivy grew in profusion up the walls and, even though it wasn't quite dark yet,
lights illuminated the front of the building. Severus paid the taxi and they
made their way to the reception area.
"Good afternoon, how may I help?" asked the pretty receptionist in an Irish
lilt.
"Snape, I believe we have a reservation."
The receptionist tapped away on her computer and smiled. "Very good, sir.
You're in one of our executive suites. If you'll just sign the register, here
and here." She pushed a computer print-out in front of Severus. "Do you have a
car in the car park?"
"No, we came by taxi."
"Oh, that's fine. It's just we needed to know the car's registration if you
were staying in our car park so you wouldn't get towed away."
Severus filled in the details and passed the print out back to her. She handed
him two plastic cards the size of a credit card. "You're on the fourth floor,
Room 406. We have twenty-four hour room service and the restaurant times are in
the guest pack in your room. I hope you have a pleasant stay."
"Thank you," said Severus, reaching down and lifting up a suitcase that Harry
was sure hadn't been there before. Had it been glamoured too? They made their
way to the lift and from there to the hotel suite.
The suite was larger than Harry was expecting, with a separate living area with
sofas, chairs and a dining table along with the largest television he had ever
seen. Decorated in warm tones of reds and browns, it was homelier than Harry
would have expected of a hotel. He wandered around, taking a peek into the
bedroom. A large four-poster bed, although without drapes, dominated the room,
with cream bedding and a red throw along the bottom of the bed. Two red velvet
armchairs sat by the window with a coffee table in between them. Harry stared
at the bed for a while, unsure whether his resulting shiver was from
nervousness or anticipation. They were bonded now and would soon make use of
that bed. Even though Harry knew in theory what they would do, it was still a
bit nerve-wracking taking that step in losing his virginity. Things would never
quite be the same after this, would they?
Harry jumped like a scalded cat when Severus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to see if you wanted to eat
in one of the restaurants or order something from room service?"
"Room service, I think," said Harry. He wasn't up to being around a lot of
strangers and they certainly had room to dine in their suite with its full size
table.
"Very well, shall we have a look at the menu?" Severus went back out to the
living area; Harry followed him and saw Severus lift the menu from the desk.
When Severus settled on one of the sofas, Harry had little choice but to join
him there. Harry sat down, holding his whole body stiffly, and tried his best
not to act so nervous.
"Harry, calm down," said Severus. "I'm not going to pounce on you as soon as we
get in the door. Let's have some food, talk a bit and get a bit more relaxed. I
know you haven't been with anyone before and it can all seem a bit daunting at
first. It gets easier as time goes on and everything isn't so new. Is there
anything you would like to ask me?"
"Um, yes," said Harry, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. "Can you kiss me
first? I don't want to go straight to doing - you know."
"Harry, I can assure you I will enjoy kissing you first, during and even
afterwards. Kissing is wonderful and kissing you will be delightful."
"Oh." Harry blushed even harder. "Thank you."
 
***
 
Harry wasn't entirely sure how they'd made it to the bed. After their meal
they'd started snogging on the sofa and Harry was reassured by both of them
moaning into each other's mouths the longer the kissing went on. Now they were
on top of the bed, still clothed in tunics and leggings, their robes having
long since been discarded, and Harry was letting himself surrender.
Before, he hadn't been aware of how good kisses could be. Cho had been crying
the whole time he'd kissed her and Harry had been disappointed how terrible his
first kiss had been. There were no bells ringing, no fireworks and no
excitement in his body at all. He'd had more excitement when he'd masturbated
and had fantasised about kissing her before he'd actually done it.
Lack of excitement wasn't the case with Severus kissing him. Harry felt as if
his whole body was on fire from his head to his toes. His cock throbbed with
every swipe of Severus' lips against his or as their tongues danced with each
other. They were both lying sideways on the bed, facing each other, their arms
and legs just a tangle of limbs as if they were one entity not two. Harry
gripped the back of Severus' tunic and arched his body, pressing his cock
against Severus. He moaned in relief at finally having some pressure there, and
before he was even aware of it, he was rutting against Severus' thigh like
there was no tomorrow.
Harry wanted to come, no, he needed to come, but Severus gentled him down with
softer kisses, moving his body away, and Harry whined at the loss.
"Ssh, Harry. You'll get to come, don't worry. It's just the penetration will be
easier the more aroused you are. You'll feel more pleasure than pain." Severus
smiled down at him. “But I think we're both a tad overdressed, aren't we?”
Severus knelt up on the bed and unlaced the front of his tunic. Harry nodded
and eagerly began unlacing his own. He didn't feel nervous any more, just
excited. They both tossed their tunics over the side of the bed and grinned at
each other, like two miscreant students about to do something very naughty.
With their socks and shoes already removed, it wasn't difficult to tug down
their leggings and after that their underwear, both of which were discarded in
much the same manner as their tunics. Harry blushed anew, realising that this
was the first time he was naked in front of anyone for as long as he could
remember. Severus raked his eyes all over Harry's body and Harry could almost
feel the weight of touch in that gaze. Getting bolder now, Harry returned
Severus' gaze and stared at him. Severus was broad in the chest, with large
biceps, and Harry wondered if it was all the potion making that moulded his
physique or if Hogwarts had a gym hidden somewhere.
It didn't take Harry long to let his gaze lower further down. Severus had large
brown nipples, each with a few hairs around it, but he didn't really get any
more hairy until Harry's eyes reached his abdomen. A trail of hair led from
Severus' navel down to a triangle of black hair which surrounded Severus' cock.
Severus' cock was larger than his own, slightly wider in girth, but quite
longer than Harry's, and it curled a little to the left. It was at an almost
ninety degree angle and pointing straight at Harry. As Harry watched, Severus'
cock jerked and dribbled precome onto the bedclothes, making Harry's own cock
twitch in response. The air between them was sexually charged and Harry could
almost imagine that he could come from this, just watching Severus and being
watched in turn.
Harry wasn't sure which one of them moved first, but soon they were wrapped up
in each other's arms again and kissing the breath from each other. “Please!”
Harry mumbled when they broke for air. “Oh, please!”
“Lie down on your back,” said Severus, gently pushing Harry down onto the
pillows again. Harry did so, his heart beating a frantic rhythm against his
chest. Severus left him for a few moments but soon returned, bearing a crystal
jar holding something the colour of honey. “I brewed it myself,” said Severus
by way of explanation. “It's a lubricant but also has a muscle relaxant added
to it. I don't want to deliberately cause you any pain tonight.”
“I know,” Harry said softly, reaching up and pushing a lock of hair away from
Severus' forehead. “I trust you.”
Severus kissed him lightly on the nose. “Lift your legs a bit.”
Harry obeyed, feeling awkward and ungainly in that position and hoped Severus
would prepare him soon. But it seemed that Severus was keen to drive Harry
mindless with pleasure first. Severus started with Harry's neck, licking and
sucking, especially in that hollow where neck met shoulder, and Harry was
almost bucking off the bed. Severus kissed and sucked each side before moving
his mouth further down and giving Harry's nipples the same undivided attention.
“Severus!” Harry moaned, his hands fisting the bedclothes, unable to articulate
anything more coherent than that. In his own forays into self-pleasure Harry
had never even touched his nipples; he had no idea it would feel so bloody good
Who knew that pinching or biting his nipples would make his cock jerk or his
lower belly clench as his arousal ratcheted up a notch? Harry thrashed his head
against the pillows as Severus did his best to drive Harry insane with bliss,
kissing and licking his way down Harry's chest and abdomen.
When Severus reached the nest of curls surrounding Harry's cock, he held his
breath in anticipation, wondering if Severus was really going to do that to
him. He'd heard of blow-jobs, what sixth-year boy hadn't? But he'd never had
one. He couldn't help the small arch of his hips, almost as if his body was
giving Severus the hint that Harry couldn't voice. Severus smirked at him and
trailed a finger along the length of Harry's cock. “Sorry, Harry. Maybe later.
You're too close and I want you to come when I'm inside you. The bonding
protective magics will work better that way, especially for the consummation.”
Harry nodded, feeling a little disappointed, but he filed away Severus' mention
of later and he knew Severus wanted them both to come, just not that way.
Severus unscrewed the jar and scooped out the honey-coloured lubricant. Harry
watched avidly as Severus covered his fingertips, knowing where those fingers
would soon be going. Severus prepared him slowly, much too slowly in Harry's
opinion. It didn't hurt at all, not one finger, not two, but three made him
feel delightfully full. He loved the pressure and he rocked backwards and
forwards, almost impaling himself on those same fingers. Severus crooked his
fingers inside, as if he was searching for something.
“Oh fuck!” Harry cried out when Severus found it. “There, oh God, there!” Harry
angled his hips to try and get some more of that ecstatic sensation. “What was
that?”
“Ah, the wonders of the prostate,” said Severus with a wicked smile. “Just
imagine how it would feel with a cock pressing against it. All that lovely
pressure.”
“Do it!” Harry whimpered. “Do it, please!”
Severus removed his fingers and reached towards the head of the bed, lifting
down a pillow and placing it between Harry's hips. Harry didn't even need to be
told what to do, he lifted his legs and let Severus place the pillow
underneath, raising his arse. Severus knelt on the bed, quite close to Harry's
open legs, and coated his cock liberally in the lubricant. He pushed Harry's
legs back towards his chest. “Ready?” he asked when his cock was flush with the
crease of Harry's arse.
“Yes! Do something! Anything!” Harry wailed. His body felt poised on a
precipice and any time now he was going to fall over it. He wanted that fall.
He needed that fall.
Severus pushed his cock against the ring of muscles, his grip never faltering
on Harry's thighs. The first few inches hurt a little bit as Harry was first
penetrated, but not as much as he had been expecting. He'd felt worse after a
rough Quidditch match, but this was much more fun than flying, something Harry
thought he'd never say. Severus eased all the way in, taking it slow, letting
Harry adjust to the length and girth of him. “Okay?” Severus asked once he was
fully sheathed.
Harry nodded. “You can move, Severus. I won't break.”
“Thank Merlin for that!” Severus said, chuckling softly as he began to piston
in and out of Harry's body. Harry didn't just lie still either; he bucked his
hips, meeting Severus thrust for thrust, wrapping his arms around Severus' back
and pulling him even closer, if that were possible. It felt like they were
sharing the same skin already. Severus' face was flushed and sweat-streaked,
his hair sticking to his forehead with perspiration. Both of them were covered
in a fine sheen of sweat and Harry hadn't known how physical it was going to
be. Much more fun than a gym session, though!
As well as their physical connection in the joining of their bodies, Harry was
surprised to feel connected to Severus in another way entirely. He didn't know
if it was magical or spiritual or something else entirely, he just knew he
never wanted this connection to fade. Severus' movements were becoming a bit
erratic, but he managed to stroke Harry's prostate on every downward thrust and
Harry moaned anew.
Severus' hands left the backs of Harry's thighs and instead he now lay half-
draped over Harry, his hands gripping Harry's hips hard enough to bruise, and
pounded Harry into the bed. The headboard rattled on the wall behind them and
they were both groaning and grunting now as they sought release together. Harry
dimly wondered if any of the other guests could hear them but he didn't really
care. He was enjoying himself too much to care what other people thought of
them. Severus' body draped over his meant that Harry's cock was getting some
much needed friction and he loved the duality of being filled and his cock
being stroked by Severus' abdomen at the same time.
It wasn't long before Harry felt the first telltale tingles at the base of his
belly and in his balls that preceded his orgasm. His nails scratched a trail
down Severus' back as he leaned up and stole Severus' breath in a heated kiss.
Harry yanked his mouth away. “Sev'rus! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I'm coming!” Harry
yowled as the first tremors of his climax tore through him and he pulsed in
white hot heat between their bodies. His arse and thighs clenched as he rode
out the aftershocks. Severus grunted, thrusting once, twice into Harry's body
before he stilled completely and grunted as his own climax overtook him.
“Wow, oh wow,” Harry murmured, his whole body still trembling with little
aftershocks. “I've never felt anything like it.”
Severus kissed him briefly. “You enjoyed it, then?”
“Enjoyed it? I don't think there's a word to describe how much I enjoyed that!”
“Ecstatic, maybe?” Severus smirked at him.
Harry chuckled. “Yeah, you could be right, there. How about we share a bath in
that large tub?”
“That sounds most agreeable.”
***** Chapter 11 *****
Part 11
 
Severus woke up to a vision of bright green eyes staring down at him, their
owner smiling with such awe that Severus felt his chest constrict. After the
consummation they'd indeed taken a bath together, where, rubbing against each
other, Harry had come twice more, Severus once. Severus wasn't sure what to
think. He didn't think Harry would want to touch him after the consummation;
they had only needed to make love once for the protective magics to take. They
didn't need to engage in any further intimacies, but it seemed that Harry had
wanted to and Severus was only too delighted to comply.
Severus wasn't blind or stupid. He knew he was an ugly man, both in looks and
personality, and he couldn't imagine what Harry saw in him. Maybe it was just a
normal young man's fascination with sex and not minding who supplied it. It
hurt when Severus thought of it, but then the truth often did. His mind
wandered back to their vows of fidelity; maybe Harry was just making the best
of a bad job, knowing he couldn't have sex elsewhere.
“Good morning, husband,” said Harry, squinting a bit, as he had yet to put on
his glasses. Harry's eyes tracked lower, at the tent Severus' cock had made of
the bedsheets. “Can I – can I touch you?”
Severus was in no doubt as to where Harry wanted to touch him, it just
surprised him that he did indeed want to. “You can if you wish. How are you,
Harry? Are you sore?”
“A little,” Harry admitted. “I don't think I'll be able to have anything inside
quite yet, but can we do that thing we did in the bath? What did you call it?
Frottage?”
Severus smiled up at him. “I, too, would enjoy that, Harry. And after that,
breakfast. Room service or the restaurant?”
“Room service,” Harry said, eagerly clambering over Severus so that he was
sitting on Severus' thighs and lining up their erect cocks together. “I don't
think I want to let you out of this bed. It is our honeymoon after all. Oh!”
Harry gasped as he thrust his hips. Severus didn't have to do much, Harry was
doing all of the work, almost bouncing up and down in his pleasure. It was a
joy to watch, his face so open and carefree as Harry did his best to bring them
both the ultimate pleasure.
Even from one night together, Severus could tell when Harry came close to
orgasm; his face and neck bore a red flush and his eyes were wide, just a
sliver of green visible around the blown pupils. Every little mewl, every
little grunt of Harry's had Severus' own arousal spiking higher and higher.
Harry held onto the headboard as if to give himself some leverage, and then
lowered his body so they were chest to chest and thrust erratically against
Severus. Severus felt his own climax building from his head to his toes and
then spurt out from his cock. Harry shrieked and suddenly he was coming too,
their semen intermingled and covering their bellies.
Harry kissed his neck, mumbling in his ear. “Sev'rus. Sev'rus. I'm floating.”
Severus stroked Harry's hair and back, feeling the afterglow of satiation and
contentment. “It's all right, Harry. I've got you. I've got you,” he whispered.
He'd never felt the need before to stroke a partner's hair, or whisper sweet
nothings to them, either.
Harry sat up and put on his glasses before cleaning them both with a wordless
and wandless spell. Severus' eyes widened. “Harry? You can do wandless magic?”
“Oh. I thought you knew that. I could do it before I came to Hogwarts, but I
didn't know what I was doing was magic. Ron and Hermione said most people can't
do it, at least not without lots of training.”
“That's true, but then you aren't most people.”
“I wish I was sometimes. That I was just Harry and not all this Boy Who Lived
rubbish. So,” Harry said with a broad grin. “How are we going to get together
after we're back at school? Are you going to give me lots more detentions,
Professor? I can be very naughty, you know.”
Severus did know and his cock gave an interested twitch. He debated a lie, to
tell Harry that they would need to keep being intimate in order for the bond to
keep working, but he knew he couldn't do it. Harry deserved better, especially
from him.
“Harry, I didn't think you'd want to keep having sex with me. The bond only
needed us to consummate it once, we don't need to keep doing it.”
“Oh,” Harry said, climbing off Severus' lap and turning his back. “I get it.
You don't want to be with me, you only did this because of the bond and
Dumbledore made us do that. I – I'll go and have a shower then.”
“Harry no, that's not what I meant.” Severus pressed a hand on Harry's
shoulder. “What do you want, Harry? Please, talk to me.”
Harry turned around, his eyes glistening. “I want to be with you. You made me
feel so special, Severus. You made me feel normal. I didn't feel like I was a
freak when we made love. It felt right. I don't want to lose that, I don't.
I've been thinking about it ever since Dumbledore told us about being bonded.
It's a bit like an arranged marriage, isn't it? But sometimes those people
don't even know each other. We at least knew each other a bit beforehand and I
want us to get to know each other even better. Maybe arranged marriages don't
start out as love matches, but love can grow, can't it Severus? We know we're
compatible in bed at least. That has to stand for something, doesn't it?”
“It does, Harry, it does. So you are saying you still want to pursue a physical
relationship with me once we're back at Hogwarts?”
“I do, Severus. I don't want to lose you.”
“Then you won't. We'll have to keep it a secret, Harry. Dumbledore only wanted
the bond to be able to protect you, he wouldn't condone an ongoing relationship
between us.”
Harry snorted. “Yeah? Well I don't particularly care what he thinks at the
moment. I'm good at keeping secrets.”
Severus nodded sadly. What Harry said was all too true.
 
***
 
Harry found it rather strange to be sitting in his husband's Defence class and
remembering the past three weeks since they'd been back at Hogwarts. There were
a lot more detentions, earning him worried looks from Professor McGonagall, but
at least Gryffindor hadn't lost too many points. There was no point in Severus
giving Harry detentions without loss of points; the other students would wonder
what was going on, and that was something they couldn't afford to allow.
The detentions were an excuse for Harry to get some more lessons from Severus
in defensive and offensive spell casting as well as working on his wandless and
silent magic along with Occlumency. Maybe it was an effect of their bond, but
Harry found himself much better at Occlumency than he used to be and he was
able to steer Severus only to those memories that he wanted him to see. Harry
made a game out of it, forcing Severus to see memories and fantasies of the two
of them making love in all sorts of places, in all sorts of positions, some
that they'd never even done in real life. Harry wanted to see how long Severus
could hold out once he'd seen those. Not long, and soon Occlumency lessons were
the last ones to be done before they made love.
Unlike their honeymoon though, after they'd made love Harry had to make his way
back to his dorm and his lonely bed. He missed cuddling up in Severus' strong
arms and falling asleep. He went back to his own bed, sated but still unable to
sleep for a long time. It was hard keeping his relationship with Severus
secret. He didn't want it to be secret. He wanted to be able to hold hands like
Ron and Hermione did; he wanted to shout it to the rooftops that he was happy.
But he knew they couldn't. Not until Harry left school and certainly not until
Voldemort was defeated.
“Mr. Potter, am I boring you?” Severus asked as he stood in front of Harry's
desk.
“No, sir,” Harry said, not looking into his face. Don't smile! Don't smile! “I
was just distracted.”
“Which means you weren't paying attention, were you?”
Is something wrong, Harry? Severus asked through the bond.
No. I was just thinking. The usual. Dark Lords and impending doom, that sort of
thing.
We'll talk later. After your Quidditch match.
Thanks.
“If you had been paying attention, Mr. Potter, you'd realise that I was
discussing silent and wandless spells. This is a rare discipline, so rare in
fact that not many wizards are able to do it. Can you do it, Mr. Potter?”
Harry shook his head, earning him a strange look from Ron and Hermione, who
knew that Harry could indeed cast wandless spells. But he and Severus had
already discussed this: in class, considering they shared it with the
Slytherins, Harry was not to give away how powerful he really was.
“I can do it, sir,” said Malfoy, raising a hand and smirking in Harry's
direction. Harry may have stopped Malfoy from being expelled and/or killed by
the Dark Lord, but it didn't mean he liked the git any better. Severus looked
fondly at Malfoy, making Harry's hackles rise. Severus should only look at him
like that, but he knew Severus would never smile fondly at any Gryffindors in
class.
“Excellent, Mr. Malfoy. Why don't you come to the front of the class and give
us a demonstration. The rest of you watch carefully, you might actually learn
something for a change.”
Malfoy left his seat and sauntered to the front of the classroom as if he owned
it. Considering the amount of money the Malfoy family gave the school board,
that might well be the case.
“Something simple to start, Mr. Malfoy. Leave your wand on my desk first; we
don't want any cheating, do we?”
The Slytherins laughed, the Gryffindors groaned as Draco laid his wand on
Severus' desk and walked back to him. Severus removed his own wand. “I will
attempt to hex you, Draco, you will attempt to shield. You may use any shield
spell you know, but you must not voice the spell and you must not shape the
spell with your hands. Are you ready?”
Malfoy nodded and fisted his hands tight by his sides, as if afraid he was
going to move them otherwise. Severus cast a jelly-legs jinx and a stinging hex
in quick succession, but they bounced harmlessly off the shield Draco had
created. “Excellent, Mr. Malfoy. Well done. Ten points to Slytherin. For
homework I want twelve inches on why wandless or silent spells are a bonus to
defence strategy.” The bell rang just as Severus finished speaking, almost as
if he had timed giving them their homework assignment down to the last second.
Harry had already earned himself a detention tonight for untidy homework, so
there was no excuse to linger behind, but he desperately wanted to. Even just a
kiss to tide him over until tonight, but Ron and Hermione had half-dragged him
out of the classroom before the bell even stopped ringing.
“Harry, we've been thinking about your project and we have some ideas. Can you
come with us to the Room of Requirement?” asked Hermione. It was lunchtime, but
Harry wasn't feeling particularly hungry anyway. It was their first match
against Slytherin this afternoon and Harry didn't want to be at the mercy of
Malfoy while high on a broom.
“Sure,” said Harry, knowing the project they were talking about was Voldemort's
Horcruxes, and followed his friends to the seventh floor. The three of them
walked in front of the blank wall a few times before the doors appeared. Inside
the room had taken on the facsimile of a library with tall bookshelves filled
with books, tables and chairs and a ladder to reach the higher bookshelves.
Hermione sat down on one of the chairs and waited for Harry and Ron to seat
themselves before she started. “From what we know of Voldemort so far, I don't
think he would hide any of these Horcuxes at the orphanage. He hated it there,
didn't he?”
Harry nodded. He'd told Ron and Hermione what Severus had told him, for Severus
had viewed all of those memories that it was too difficult for Harry to view.
They knew as much as he and Severus did now and Harry knew Hermione's brain
would have been working overtime to try and figure things out.
“I think he might try and hide things at Hogwarts,” said Hermione. “We think he
might have made Slytherin's locket one and maybe Helga Hufflepuff's cup. I'm
not sure he'd want anything of Gryffindor's, but maybe he used something from
Rowena Ravenclaw as well. Do you think he might have hidden the locket in the
Chamber of Secrets? It would be a safe place for it since only a Parselmouth
can get into it. And even if we do find them, any idea how we might destroy
them?”
“Professor Snape thinks we might be able to use a Basilisk fang if they're
still there. That's what I used to destroy the diary, but I didn't know it was
a Horcrux at the time. Do you think that will matter?”
“I don't think that should matter. If the fangs have disintegrated, I'm not
sure what we'll do. Pity we don't have some tame Dementors,” said Ron. “We
could just sic them on the Horcruxes and they'd soon suck out You-Know-Who's
soul.”
Hermione glanced at Ron, for once looking strangely impressed. “That's not a
bad idea, Ron, the only problem is they wouldn't stop sucking at just his soul.
If there's anyone else in the vicinity the Dementors would go for them as
well.”
“It's just a thought,” said Ron, shrugging his shoulders.
“It was a good one,” said Harry, his mind whirling in twenty different
directions at once. Was it even possible? Could they even attempt it? One thing
for sure, he knew he was going to have a lot to discuss with Severus tonight.
 
***
 
Harry stood under the shower in the Quidditch changing rooms, letting out a
long sigh as the hot water pummelled his sore muscles. He was smiling though,
remembering the look of utter outrage on Malfoy's face as Harry grabbed the
Snitch right from under his nose. Draco had looked livid and for one tense
moment Harry thought that Draco might indeed have murdered Harry there in the
air, but he just swore and flew down to the ground.
Harry didn't know if Draco had really intended to kill him, either on the train
that day or in Myrtle's bathroom. What Harry did know was that he didn't want
Voldemort's ranks swelled by even one more wizard, not when he could do
something to prevent it. Draco probably wasn't even grateful, but Harry was
glad he'd convinced Dumbledore not to expel him.
Through the loud rush of the water, Harry hadn't heard any footsteps, but the
hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he sensed something, some disturbance
in the air, and realised he was no longer alone in the shower room. He smiled
as he turned around, recognising the magical signature of his husband
instinctively. “Severus!” Harry laughed as he saw Severus stepping into the
shower, clothes and all. “You'll get soaked!”
“I don't care,” said Severus, casting a spell that had him as naked as Harry.
“I had to see you. Watching you fly, do you know what you do to me?”
Harry glanced down at Severus' groin, seeing the straining cock. “I have some
idea.”
“I want to suck you,” Severus said, prowling towards Harry like a big cat who'd
spotted a delicious prey. Harry groaned and leaned back against the shower
wall. Severus had never given him a blow-job before, but Harry had been
thinking about it. A lot. He wasn't sure he'd have picked the Quidditch
changing rooms to experience it for the first time, but his cock didn't care,
standing to attention almost as soon as Severus had uttered the words. It was
exciting, doing it where they weren't supposed to. Since Severus was still his
teacher and they couldn't tell anyone they were bonded, they weren't supposed
to be doing anything sexual at all. The thought sent another spike of arousal
through his belly and cock and Harry felt as though he'd fallen down one of the
trick steps.
“Oh, fuck! Yes! Please,” Harry said as Severus slid to his knees. “Wait,” said
Harry, turning round so he could fiddle with the controls. “Let me turn off the
water. I don't want you to drown.”
 
***
 
Cormac had forgotten his schoolbag; he'd left it in the changing rooms after
the match and he needed to get his Charms homework finished tonight. He always
left things to the last minute and if he didn't hand it in tomorrow there would
be no Hogsmeade visit for him at the weekend. Professor Flitwick had already
told him what his punishment would be if he didn't hand his next assignment in
on time.
Cormac paused by the lockers. Potter's uniform was still draped over one of the
benches, Seeker embroidered on the back of the sports robe. Potter was still
here? Cormac grinned mischievously. Potter was a bit of a prude, always waiting
until everyone else had left before taking his shower rather then with the rest
of the team. Cormac had no qualms about his body and sometimes after a match he
and the other boys masturbated together in the shower. He couldn't imagine
Potter doing something like that but now Cormac had a chance to prank their
uptight captain. He could hide his clothes, but with their both being wizards,
Cormac knew that wouldn't really work. Potter could just Summon some new
clothes to him.
What he could do was catch him in the shower, naked. The look on Potter's face
would be priceless as he was caught. Pity that boy Colin wasn't here with his
camera, but Cormac would know what he'd done and remember it, that was all that
mattered.
Cormac took off his shoes and made his way on tip-toes to the shower room,
being as quiet as possible. He didn't want Potter to see him. It was only as he
neared the room that he realised the water was no longer running. Why was
Potter still in the showers but with the water turned off? Cormac's grin got
wider. Oh, this was too good! He was about to catch Prudish Potter wanking in
the shower! He really, really wished he had a camera now. The Daily Prophet
would have paid good money for a photo like that!
When he entered the shower area, Cormac realised that he needn't have worried
about making noise. Potter was so loud that he wouldn't have heard a herd of
erumpents stampeding in the room. Who would have thought shy Potter would be a
screamer in bed? Well, shower in this case. At first he thought Potter was just
enjoying a very vocal wank, the low wall hiding Potter's lower body from view
from this angle. As Cormac moved, he saw over the low wall and saw that Potter
was not alone.
Someone was kneeling on the floor in front of Potter and giving Potter the
blow-job of his life, if Potter's groans were anything to go by. Dear Merlin,
Potter was so loud! It was as if he couldn't keep silent as the other person
pleasured him. Potter's hands were tangled in shoulder-length dark hair. Had
Chang and Potter got back together, then? No, Cho's hair was longer than that.
As Cormac peered closer at the naked body in its knees, he realised something
else as well. Those broad shoulders, those muscled arms, the straight hips, not
curvy. Potter's partner was male.
Cormac's grin got wider. He wished he'd discovered this about Potter sooner.
Cormac had had his fair share of conquests at school, both male and female, but
he'd never even attempted to seduce Potter, for he thought Potter was
undeniably straight. That assessment was obviously wrong now. A pity, Potter
was quite good-looking and it would have been such a coup to get him to bed. He
could even have sold his story to the Daily Prophet. He doubted Potter would go
for him now, though, his partner was too good.
Cormac had never heard any of his lovers moan like that. Maybe he wasn't as
good a lover as he thought he was. Potter's lover had one arm reached around
the front of himself, as if he was touching himself at the same time he was
sucking Potter off. Watching them, listening to them, had a marked effect on
Cormac. His cock was pressing uncomfortably against the zip of his trousers. He
needed to touch himself, too. This live show was much better than the Muggle
magazines that were doing the rounds in the boys' dorms.
He moved around the corner, out of sight but not out of hearing. It was
Potter's noises that were affecting him the most, as if he just couldn't
contain his excitement. Cormac wasn't sure whether he wanted to be on his knees
sucking Potter's cock or the one who was getting his cock sucked. Potter's
partner seemed to be very proficient at it and Cormac closed his eyes, seeing
their tableau clearly in his mind's eye.
Potter was groaning and shrieking like a banshee. Cormac had never heard
anything like it. Who was the mystery man giving Potter such a good time? He
unzipped his trousers and teased his cock through his underwear for a few
minutes but soon he couldn't stand the tension any longer. Cormac pulled out
his cock and curled his fingers tight around it, stroking up and down in time
with Potter's ecstatic moans.
Soon Potter's moans were irregular, his breathing a bit erratic, and Cormac
guessed Potter was close to coming. He speeded up his own strokes, trying to
time his orgasm to Potter's. His thighs trembled and he had to lean back
against the wall as he fisted himself to climax while listening to Potter try
and achieve his.
“Oh! Oh!” Potter moaned and panted as his climax neared. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!
Severus!” Potter wailed and Cormac came all over his hand, ropes of come
dripping to the floor. Cormac took a few shaky breaths as the aftershocks still
had him feeling a little wobbly.
Severus? Dear Merlin, was that Professor Snape on the shower floor? Maybe
Cormac had misheard the name. He wiped his cock clean with a discarded towel,
not wanting to do any magic in case it alerted the two other occupants of the
changing rooms that there was someone else here. Once he was clean and his cock
back in his trousers, Cormac chanced a look around the corner.
From this angle it was obvious he hadn't been mistaken. It was Snape and both
of them were wrapped up in each other's arms and kissing as if the other was
air. But Snape was a professor and Cormac didn't care how good he was at giving
blow-jobs, teachers shouldn't have been messing about with students like that.
How many times had he joked with his friends, wishing that Snape got fired? And
now here was the proof that would ensure he would be. Not only was Potter his
student, Cormac knew Harry was one of the youngest sixth-years. Potter wasn't
seventeen yet. So not only had Snape molested a student, it was an underage
one. Fired? Snape would be lucky to escape Azkaban! Cormac should go straight
to the headmaster this instant.
No, not Dumbledore. He seemed to have a blind spot where Snape was concerned.
No, not Dumbledore. McGonagall. She was their Head of House and Cormac knew she
was formidable when she was riled. McGonagall wouldn't stand for Snape
molesting one of her Gryffindors, Cormac knew that much. Snape was as good as
gone.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Part 12
 
“Ah, Potter, come in,” said McGonagall from behind her desk.
“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Harry paused by the open doorway wondering
what he'd done this time to incur the wrath of his Head of House.
“I did indeed, Harry. Take a seat.”
Harry's eyes widened. She hardly ever called him Harry. He sat down on the
chair in front of her desk and clasped his hands in his lap. Something was
definitely up.
“How are you doing this year, Harry? Any problems?”
“No, ma'am.”
“And yet you've had all these detentions with Professor Snape. They seem rather
excessive.”
Harry inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Professor McGonagall was part of the
Order. “They’re not really detentions,” said Harry.
“Oh? Do enlighten me.” McGonagall pushed her glasses further up on her nose.
“Professor Snape is giving me extra lessons in Defence and Occlumency. Because
of You-Know-Who.”
“I see. And is anything else going on during these detentions, Harry? You can
tell me, you won't be in any trouble.”
“I'm not sure I understand the question, Professor.”
McGonagall coughed delicately. “I see I will have to be more specific. I have
received certain allegations concerning you and Professor Snape. Has Professor
Snape ever touched you inappropriately?”
“What? No,” Harry said steadily. It wasn't inappropriate for his husband to
touch him, surely?
“Still, allegations like this must be investigated. Professor Snape has been
suspended while the enquiry takes place. The Aurors will be meeting with you
and the headmaster in his office in half an hour.”
“But he hasn't done anything wrong!” protested Harry. He had to get to the
headmaster before the Aurors got here and make him tell McGonagall about their
bonding. Severus wouldn't be in trouble if people knew they were actually
bonded. The bond took precedence over any other relationship, even that of
teacher and student. “I must speak to the headmaster before the Aurors get
here.”
“Very well, the password is 'Malteasers' today.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
“Harry, you do know if anything is troubling you that you can speak to me?”
Harry nodded and scrambled out the door and down the tower stairs to the ground
floor. “Malteasers,” he growled to the gargoyle, who gave Harry a stony-eyed
glance but let him pass. Harry swept up the stairs two at a time, not even
waiting for it to move. He was out of breath by the time he reached the top and
knocked heavily on the office door.
“Harry, you're early,” said Dumbledore as he opened it and waved Harry in. “The
Aurors won't be here for a while yet.”
“Professor, you've got to stop the investigation! Severus hasn't done anything
wrong! We're bonded, you'll have to tell Professor McGonagall and the Aurors
and then they won't need to investigate anything.”
“Harry, I'm sorry but you know that is not possible. No one can know of your
bonding, Severus' life depends on it. What do you think Voldemort will do to
him if he finds out that Severus is bonded to Harry Potter? No one can know,
Harry. I'm sorry, I truly am.”
Harry's stomach roiled. “What's going to happen to him? Where is he?”
“He's staying at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for the moment while he's
suspended. Harry, you have to appreciate my position. I am headmaster of a
school and I can't be seen to condone a teacher/student affair, especially when
that student is you.”
“Condone it?” Harry almost screeched. “You were the one who wanted us to bond
in the first place! And now you're just going to let the whole world think that
he abused me! This allegation will destroy him, you know that, don't you? But
you don't even care!”
“Harry, of course I care.”
“You don't!” Harry snarled. “He told me what I am, what I need to do. You just
care about me dying at the right time!”
“Severus should never have told you that, Harry. You didn't need to know.”
“Severus Snape has got more honour in his little finger than you have in your
whole body. I'm not going to be a party to this. I am not going to co-operate
with the Aurors to make Severus' life hell. I won't do it.”
“You must, Harry,” said Dumbledore raising his wand. “Imperio.” The spell
bounced off Harry's silent and wandless shield charm and he gaped at the
headmaster, hardly able to believe that he'd tried to cast an Unforgivable at
him. It was too much. Harry turned and marched towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you!” Harry retorted and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He'd
had it with Dumbledore's manipulations. Now Dumbledore wanted Harry to be party
to destroying Severus' life. Harry wouldn't do it, no way. Yes, Voldemort
needed to be defeated, but Harry would do it on his own terms, not
Dumbledore's. He was fed up of being someone's pawn, someone's tool.
The common room was full of chattering Gryffindors but they all stopped
speaking as Harry entered the room. “Is it true?” asked Katie Bell in a
whisper.
“It is,” said Cormac McLaggen, smirking. Harry wanted to punch it from his
face. “I saw them together.”
Harry turned on his heel and headed to his dorm, not even bothering to answer
them. What would be the point? It was just as he was about to push open the
door that the pain in his head struck so forcefully that he was forced to his
knees. Blood dripped from his scar to land with small 'plops' on the wooden
floor. The connection had been too sudden; he didn't have time to shield as he
was thrust into a scene containing Voldemort, Severus and Nagini.
Severus was lying on his back on a wooden floor, the edges of a bed visible
behind him. Was this his room in the Three Broomsticks?
“I knew you were a spy all along, Severus. Did you think you could outwit me?
It amused me to see how far you would go, but even I never expected this. In
love with Harry Potter? In love with my enemy? Potter is mine, Severus. Mine to
toy with, mine to kill.”
“You will never have him!” Severus retorted, his face etched in a rictus of
pain, although he didn't seem to be able to move anything else. Voldemort must
have put him in a full body-bind. “He will defeat you!”
“Such lies, Severus. I can see into your heart, I know how much you doubt his
abilities. Potter will die and I will rule the Wizarding world as I was meant
to do. It's such a pity, I had high hopes for you, I wanted to see if you would
return to the fold but I see now it is not to be. You have betrayed me for the
last time, Severus. Nagini!”
Harry screamed and threw up as the connection severed, but not before he'd seen
Nagini attack Severus. Shit! He crawled on his knees to his dorm, unable to get
to his feet. Ron and Hermione had been sitting on Ron's bed and they were quick
to help him up and onto his bed.
“Harry! What's happened?”
“Voldemort,” said Harry, wiping at the blood on his face. “We need to get to
the Three Broomsticks. Now!” Harry stood up, wobbling a bit as he grabbed his
broom. Ron and Hermione just gaped at him.
“What's going on? What's all this about you and Snape?” demanded Ron.
“I don't have time to explain! Voldemort set Nagini on Snape and he's dying
right now!”
Hermione paled. “What? You must be mistaken.”
Harry prodded his scar and winced. “Is this my imagination, Hermione? I saw
them! We need to save him, now!”
“We'll tell Dumbledore, alert the Order,” said Hermione.
“No! I'll go on my own if you're not coming with me!” Harry opened one of the
windows and mounted his broom.
“Don't be daft! Of course we're coming with you,” said Ron.
“I don't know how to fly a broomstick!” Hermione wailed.
“Here, get on behind me,” said Ron as he helped Hermione onto his own broom and
soon the three of them headed away from the school and down to the village.
People were bustling to and fro in the high street as if they didn't know
Voldemort was in their midst. Maybe they didn't. Harry almost jumped off his
broom before it hit the ground as he ran into the pub, Ron and Hermione
following close behind him.
“Madam Rosmerta, we need to see Professor Snape,” Harry said all in a rush.
“I'm sorry, Harry. The professor said he wasn't to be disturbed.”
“It's a matter of life and death! Please!” Harry begged, putting on his best
lost-puppy look, widening his eyes and making his lower lip tremble. Severus
could never resist that and neither it seemed could Madam Rosmerta.
“Room three, but if he chucks you out on your ear, don't blame me.”
Harry would have been so glad if Severus was well enough to do that, but he
didn't hold out much hope. He'd tried to contact Severus through their bond,
but no answer was forthcoming from his mate. This wasn't how it was supposed to
end! Severus wasn't supposed to die!
Harry flung the door of room three open and his heart almost stopped in his
chest. So much blood. Severus was covered in it and it pooled on the floor
around him from a gaping hole in his neck. Severus was pale too, much paler
than normal and his lips had a bluish tinge. “Severus!” Harry shrieked and ran
to him, feeling the pulse at his wrist. It was faint, but it was there. “Oh,
God, what do we do, what do we do?” Harry moaned to the air.
“Put some pressure on his neck, Harry. We need to slow the bleeding.”
Harry nodded and pressed his hands against his husband's neck. “Ron, you get
back to school and bring Madam Pomfrey, quick as you can. We'll try and
stabilise him in the meantime.”
“Right, Hermione. I'll be quick.” Ron ran out and Hermione cast some general
first-aid spells before placing her hands beside Harry's as they did their best
to staunch the bleeding. Harry had never seen so much blood before. How much
could a person lose before they died?
“Don't die, Severus! Don't die!” Harry sobbed. “Oh, God, Hermione. I love him,
I love him and I never got to tell him.”
Harry didn't know how long he and Hermione sat on that bloody floor, their
hands crimson, before Madam Pomfrey arrived and took charge in short order.
Soon, the blood was removed, Severus' wounds were cleaned, stitched and
bandaged and Madam Pomfrey proclaimed him stable enough to move to the
infirmary.
“You both did well,” said Madam Pomfrey to Harry and Hermione. “You slowed the
bleeding down enough that he didn't bleed out altogether. You've saved his
life.”
“I don't want him at Hogwarts,” said Harry. “Can you take him to St. Mungo's?”
Harry asked.
“I was considering that, Harry. St. Mungo's is better equipped to deal with
this sort of trauma. But might I ask why you don't want him at Hogwarts?”
“He won't be safe there and neither will I,” said Harry.
“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.
“I'm not going back, I can't go back there.” And in between hiccups and sobs,
Harry told them everything. Dumbledore's manipulations, their bonding and all
the rest, even the fact that Dumbledore thought he had to die.
“So Dumbledore told Snape to fuck you, did he?” grumbled Ron.
“In a manner of speaking. He wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for the
bond and Dumbledore insisted we needed the bonding to keep me safe from people
like Draco Malfoy.”
“So in essence, Dumbledore forced both of you to bond?” demanded Hermione,
hands on her hips. “Then that's even worse. He made you both victims. And he
tried to use an Unforgivable on you? That's despicable! I can hardly believe
it!”
“Believe it,” said Harry. “He's not the kind grandfatherly figure he makes
himself out to be. I can't stay at school, I can't stay under Dumbledore's
control any longer. I need to defeat the Dark Lord and I can't do that from
Hogwarts.”
“Then we'll leave too,” said Ron. “Right, Hermione?”
You should all take some time to think about this,” said Madam Pomfrey.
“I don't need to think about it,” said Harry. “I know I can't stay there and
neither can Severus. He needs to be in St. Mungo's. Please, Madam Pomfrey, can
you take him there? For me?”
“I will, Harry, and I won't tell anyone what you've decided. You all seem to
have made up your minds on this.”
“We have, Madam Pomfrey,” said Hermione. “Voldemort almost killed Professor
Snape in Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade. Nowhere is safe from him. Some things are more
important than exams and getting rid of him is one of them. Exams can wait, we
can always repeat them when Voldemort is gone.”
“Hermione, I don't know what to say.” Harry felt tears prickle at the corners
of his eyes. “And will you be all right with Severus coming with us? He can't
stay at Hogwarts any longer now.”
“Harry, as you said, he's your husband. His place is with you.”
“Well, at least if we're not at school, he can't take points,” said Ron,
shrugging. “How long until he gets better, do you think?”
“I'm sorry, Ron, I just don't know,” replied Madam Pomfrey. “But he will get
the best care at St. Mungo's and I will pop in to keep an eye on him. Where are
you all going to go? Have you a plan?”
“Not as yet,” said Harry. “I thought Grimmauld Place first and then we can
decide.”
“Is that wise, Harry? Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper, he'll be able to find us
there,” said Hermione.
“Not anymore. Sirius left me the house in his will and it made the Fidelius
Charm lapse. No one can get to number twelve any more, not unless I let them in
myself. So, are we agreed on this? We do this together, along with Severus?”
“Agreed,” Ron and Hermione said at the same time and held out their hands.
Harry stared at his two best friends who'd stuck by him through everything and
a handshake just wasn't going to cut it. Not today. He wrapped both of them in
an arm each, hugging them at the same time, and just squeezed tight.
“Good luck,” Madam Pomfrey said as she Disapparated away with Severus on a
stretcher.
 
***
 
Epilogue
Daily Prophet
Battle at Hogwarts, Dark Lord Defeated
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, is still struggling for his life at St.
Mungo's, where he is in a coma after he battled You-Know-Who on the grounds of
Hogwarts School. There were heavy casualties on either side, but those Death
Eaters who still survive are being hunted by Aurors and will soon be brought to
justice. Almost a year ago, Draco Malfoy, a student at the time, but also a
Death Eater, murdered Albus Dumbledore in cold blood and allowed Death Eaters
into the school.
For the past year, Hogwarts has been under the control of the Death Eaters,
with the Carrows acting as joint heads of the school.
The Daily Prophet wishes Mr. Potter a full recovery and sends its best wishes
to him and his husband, Severus Snape, who was also instrumental in the Dark
Lord's downfall.
A special Heroes' Edition of the Daily Prophet will be on sale next week.
 
***
 
Harry awoke, naked, a white mist swirling around him. He stood up and saw some
robes underneath a chair and pulled them on, feeling less vulnerable now that
he was dressed. There was an ugly, misshapen lump underneath another chair and
he shuddered in revulsion as it wheezed for breath.
The mist was dissipating somewhat and Harry saw a room that reminded him of
King's Cross Station. A hooded and robed figure was walking towards him, or
rather glided towards him, as its feet didn't seem to be touching the ground.
“Hello, Harry,” said that wonderful gravelly voice that Harry had come to love.
He'd always admired Severus' voice, but after the snake bite, it had never been
quite the same: rougher, and as always, it went straight to Harry's cock.
“What are you doing here? Am I dead? Are you?” For Harry had distinctly
remembered leaving Severus in the tent when he went to confront Voldemort. Had
Severus rushed to Harry's aid once again and suffered the ultimate penalty for
it?
“No, neither of us is dead. Not yet. This is the in-between place. A place for
souls to decide whether to return or whether to go on.”
“Go on? You mean the after-life? What happens there?”
“I don't know. As I've said, neither of us is dead yet. We have yet to decide
our fate.”
“We can decide?” Harry asked, curious now. He'd always thought once your time
was up, that was it. “Is Voldemort gone?”
Severus nodded. “You saved us again, Harry. You sacrificed yourself for us.
Love saved us,” said Severus, pushing back his hood, and Harry gaped in awe.
Severus' hair was shining, spotless and full, no longer lank and oily. His nose
was fixed, as were his teeth, not crooked and yellow, but white and straight.
And his skin! Gone was the sallow, almost jaundiced complexion; instead
Severus' face was pale, with rosy cheeks. His skin almost glowed with
luminescence. “Severus, you look different here.”
He nodded. “It's not my body that's here, Harry. It's my soul, and yours. This
is how you see me in your soul, in your heart. I won't look like this back on
earth. I'll be how I've always looked.”
“You were always beautiful to me, Severus,” Harry said softly.
Severus laughed, loud and deep, and Harry felt his whole body tingle, or should
that be his soul? It wasn't often he had heard Severus laugh like that, so
carefree, so full of joy. “What? Even as a first year and I was the greasy git
of the dungeons?”
Harry laughed too. “You know what I mean. I love you, Severus.”
“And I you, Harry. So, what have you decided?”
Harry wrapped his arms around the man he loved and kissed him. “Let's go back,
Severus. Let's grow old together. Let me spend the rest of my life waking up
next to you.”
“Is that all you want to do?” Severus pulled away from their kiss and skimmed
his hands down Harry's sides, making Harry squirm with arousal. “Severus! We
can't do that, here, can we? It would be like making love in Heaven or
something.” A mound of feather-soft pillows appeared on the floor by their
feet.
“Indeed,” said Severus, taking Harry's hand and leading him to the pillows.
“Let me show you Heaven, Harry.”
 
THE END
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