Harry awoke the following morning to another cloudy day in Islington, except the clouds this time were a pale gray. Trying to dissuade himself from thinking the most ominous thoughts, he pulled himself from Sirius's old bed, whispering, "Tempus", and his wand revealed that it was just past six. Sighing, he walked into the adjoining bathroom for a shower; the steam filled the tiled room quickly, and he felt as if the hot water was taking the knots out of his back.
It was in the shower that Harry considered Severus, for the first time since the older wizard had invaded his dreams the night before. In the dreams, they were outside Slughorn's Christmas party, except this time, Harry had knotted his fingers into his former Potion Master's hair. He was surprised at the silky sensation, and wondered why the rumor had began that his hair was greasy in the first place. The raven locks tangled in his fingers, and he knew that it was tolerated as the Slytherin had moaned into his mouth, pressing his mouth fervently to his, as Harry and Severus's tongues engaged in an intimate dance.
Harry lowered his eyes then, a flush forming on his cheeks as he considered his dream fully, and was suddenly aware of the erection which poked forth between his legs. He gritted his teeth, and knew full well that it couldn't go on like this; sooner or later, he would have to inform Ron and Hermione of his preferences, as well as claim Severus for himself. Someone as amazing as he was wouldn't be available for long; Harry knew full well that whatever was between them would not cease to go away until or unless something was done about it. Perhaps that was why Severus had casted Obliviate onto him in the first place. Could it be that he wasn't interested in some form or other of a relationship with him at all, and that was solely the reason why he refused to tell him anything?
Harry bit down, hard, on his lower lip, at the notion that, perhaps, Severus merely wanted to distract or possibly weaken him from his upcoming journey. The very thought, that after all the long-lasting looks, or the words passed between them, that hate was the only emotion that the Potions Master could feel for him. He thought that they were past this; however, the doubts that suddenly filled his mind made him sick, and as he reached for his engorged cock, stroking it ever so slightly—unknowing where the shower water ended and his tears began—he thought of all the pain he'd gone through in his lifetime, and the rejection he felt he could be feeling from Severus Snape was nearly enough to push him over the edge.
Harry shut his eyes then, allowing his hand to wrap fully around his erection, thinking of Severus's smoldering black eyes, his wisps of raven hair, and that voice...oh, that voice. How many times had he considered that voice, and his mouth had automatically gone dry, the wetness threatening to creep out of his cock? With his free hand, Harry gripped onto the wall beside him and mulled over the various words that Severus had spoken to him over the years. Of course, he found himself going back to his rather sinfully delightful performance on the night of Slughorn's Christmas party...
"Where is Professor Dumbledore traveling?" Harry asked.
"That is also none of your business or concern," Snape replied.
Harry narrowed his green eyes. "Is that so?" he asked, stepping forward. "What then, pray tell, is my business, sir? Don't tell me that every whispered conversation I hear cannot be explained by a few words. It seems to me, professor, that there is a choice for you to make. Either tell me where Professor Dumbledore is traveling, or tell me what an Unbreakable Vow is."
"I shall do neither, for neither concern you," Snape said, growing annoyed. "Now, you are getting on my last nerve, Potter, and so help me, I'll..."
"You'll what?" Harry demanded. "Take House points? What's a few points to me? We don't know where I'll be at the end of the year, nor do you. I may not even come back. One the blood wards are broken, I'll be free."
The notion of Harry not returning to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year jarred something within Severus Snape in that moment that he never expected to feel in his entire life. The notion that he had to continue at this play-acting, at literally pretending to hate him, was growing old, and, since the boy, young man, was sixteen, he would likely see through it soon. No, no, he mustn't allow himself to lose control, but...
"Potter, you don't mean that," Snape said.
He shrugged. "Why not? I've no parents holding me here, demanding me to stay on more than necessary. Hermione may be upset about it, but she's a friend to me, like a sister. Sure, Ron's parents might care, but they've no claim on my education. Nobody would care if I simply disappeared and went looking for the Dark Lord alone..."
"No!" Snape shouted then, pushing himself forward.
"Professor, what are you—?" Harry demanded, his voice cut off then.
Snape made a grab for the dress robes that Harry wore, yanking the young man towards him and molding his mouth to his. He noted the hesitation from his captor then, which quickly seemed to melt away, as quickly as the snow was falling behind him. Snape stiffened slightly as Potter—Harry—wrapped his arms around him, opening his mouth beneath his, a small moan escaping from his lips as he tasted his professor. Snape stepped forwards then, pushing Harry up against the stone wall, and Harry braced himself up against Snape's shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist and molding himself against him...
"Sir," he whispered, his tone breaking slightly as Snape's senses finally returned to him, and he stared into the younger man's eyes, dark green with desire. "Sir, please..." His voice came out as a desperate whisper; he wanted him, he could see that, but this wasn't right, he knew that—none of this was right.
While he hadn't had the courage to do so then—due to being so scarred from Uncle Vernon's past abuse of him—Harry knew full well what he would have done then. He would've taken the initiative, somehow, and slammed Severus against the wall behind him. He would've claimed his mouth, capturing it, never permitting himself to let go, even for air. The notion that he was literally standing in the shower, the hot water pumping upon his naked back, pleasuring himself to the notion of the Hogwarts Headmaster ultimately taking him, fully, completely, a man who, other that Lord Voldemort, was supposed to be his greatest enemy, he found that he no longer cared about such a thing. He wanted him, desperately, and he didn't know how he would stop himself from taking no for an answer, if that was what Severus's answer was.
Harry doubled over then at the thought of Severus entering him, pinning him up against a wall, caressing his cock as he did so, while all the while planting gentle kisses on his neck. Harry dragged his tongue over his lower lip, waiting for the moment when he could, finally, taste Severus and himself there, co-mingled, sweet... He wanted this; he wanted this more than anything, and as his come seeped through his splayed fingers, he found it would be all he thought of for a very long time.
. . .
"I've told you before, Severus, the boy must know everything, but you must wait until the Dark Lord is at his most vulnerable," the portrait of Albus Dumbledore said softly to Severus, bowing his white head. "I told you as much when your potions kept the curse of Marvolo Gaunt's ring to my hand, in the months before you killed me."
"He is a man now, Albus," Severus said quietly. He had cast a Silencing Charm upon the door to the headmaster's office, as well as around the other portraits. He didn't want to risk the Carrows or other Hogwarts staff hearing, and he certainly didn't want the other older headmasters to weigh in on their conversation. "You cannot refuse to tell a man if he wants to know certain things; a boy, yes. A man, no."
Albus sighed. "You informed me that you cared for the boy because of Lily..."
"Not because of Lily," Severus whispered. "It was never about Lily."
"You loved Lily," Albus said simply, spreading his hands. "A select few know this about you, Severus, and although you wished to keep it under wraps..."
"I loved her as a friend, or perhaps a sister. Much like the friendship of Potter and Granger, it seems," Severus said, his tone a slight snap. "You don't seem to understand."
Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled from above his half-moon shaped glasses. "I believe I understand your meaning, Severus."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, old man?"
"I was young once, too."
"What are you talking about?" he demanded; one thing he did not miss about the former headmaster was the fact that he spoke in riddles.
"I met someone when I was very young, just before my sister was killed," Albus said softly then, and there was something about the tone of his voice that made Severus listen. "I was young and I was foolish, and my brother Aberforth wished to bring me back down to earth. But I had great ideas, or so I thought, and this person was wonderful, because he shared my ideals. We spoke often and at length about them, while all the while, I found myself falling in love."
"Albus..."
"And it wasn't enough; we longed to be by each other's side every moment of every day. While all the while I had my younger siblings to take care of, and all I thought was about him," Albus continued softly, and Severus's ears pricked up at that. "All I thought of was re-shaping the world into our image, where wizards would be more powerful over Muggles, and how he and I would rule together. But all I wanted, all I truly hungered for, was him, and finally, one night, we succumbed to our desires, and I became blind to all that was happening around me. The planning very nearly stopped, for we could not get enough of one another, until one day, my brother had enough. We engaged in a duel, and the casualty was the greatest I could ever imagine—the death of my little sister."
Severus felt his insides twist in pain at Albus's loss. "I am truly sorry," he whispered, never having known the love of a true sibling, although Lily certainly came close, he was quite positive about that.
"Many people assumed that Grindelwald and I were merely friends," he went on, and Severus raised his eyebrows at the notion that Albus finally named his lover. "But that was not the case, and it is a secret I carried with me. Aberforth... He believed he was doing what was right. He wanted to leave Hogwarts and bring up Ariana on his own, but I told him he would need to finish his education, and only then could he decide for himself. My brother wanted none of it, and so he took out his rage on myself and my lover. When looking into his mind later on, I discovered that he wished to kill him, and then Obliviate me somehow, so that we could just be the three Dumbledore children once again. However, the catastrophe of that day remains with me, as does the notion that I took such a dark wizard into my bed. My dear Ariana, who favored Aberforth over me—due to his poisoning her against me, because I happened to fancy the same gender instead of the opposite one—was caught in the crossfire, and the family was fractured. I left soon after her death, but not before Aberforth broke my nose, believing the entire thing to be my fault, although I never used a curse that could kill that day."
"What spells were used?" Severus asked.
"Expelliarmus, if anything, from me," Albus said quietly. "All I wanted was happiness for me, and for my siblings. That was all I wanted; I wanted them both to be happy. And now I am dead and my brother, embittered, runs the Hogs Head Inn," he said.
"Did you two reconcile?"
Albus sighed. "We've spoken, over the years," he said with a small shrug. "He allowed me to conduct sensitive matters at the inn, when the opportunities arose. But he never solicited personal information from me, and I did the same in that regard towards him. There was no great love between us, Severus."
"I am sorry," Severus said softly.
"But you," Albus said, smiling again, "I know you have a great love. Or, at least, you want to have one. You've had people in your bed throughout your life, Severus, but you never opened your heart to any of them."
He shook his head. "I've been a double-agent for years, Albus. It would not have been fair to anyone I slept with. And besides, I never met anyone I liked until..."
"Harry," Albus interrupted, and watched as Severus's cheeks turned pink. "Don't be ashamed of wanting love, Severus."
"It is not love..."
"Severus, if there was never anything you could do with me, it was tell me falsehoods. I always saw right through you when you swore to me that you were no Death Eater. But, now that I am dead, I feel I should tell you, your lying skills, towards me, at least, haven't improved sufficiently enough to be fully opaque."
Severus chewed his bottom lip. "What if Potter does not want...?"
"That is not something you must ask me, Severus," Albus replied. "This is something you must ask Harry directly. Speaking in riddles is not something you inherited from me, my boy. Now you must go forth with the information carefully. If it will not distract Harry from his journey to kill You-Know-Who, then, by all means, inform him of it. If you do not, the boy will think you are rejecting him, and you will lose him." Albus hesitated for a minute, a fleeting moment of pain streaking through his eyes. "Do not live in fear as I did, Severus. Seize any moments you can with him and permit yourself to love, and love fully."
Severus smirked. "And here I thought you were a Gryffindor."
Albus blinked. "I was."
"But you just said you had no courage..."
"No courage to do what wasn't conventionally accepted in my youth, Severus. The Wizarding and Muggle Worlds are much different than they were in the late-1890's. All I can tell you, my boy, is do not lost hope."
"Hope," Severus muttered.
"Yes, my boy. Hope. Something that you must hang onto, for now, until you and Harry come to the conclusion that there is love between you."
Severus lowered his eyes. "How can you be sure that he even...?"
"You can't," Albus said simply. "Which is why you must ask him yourself."
Severus opened his mouth to speak again, but shut it immediately when Albus's eyes grew heavy and he sank back into the chair inside his portrait. He leaned against the headmaster's desk and considered Harry for a moment, knowing that he would have to come clean, eventually, about the lingering feelings within him. For so many years, the boy—the young man—had believed that Severus had hated him. How long did he have to prove him wrong?
. . .
Harry sat with Ron and Hermione at the long table in the dining room; he perched on the edge of the chair at the head of the table, for Kreacher had informed him that, as the new Master of Grimmauld Place, it was his right to sit there. Ron sat to his right, and Hermione to his left; while Harry's thoughts drifted to Severus once again that morning, Ron kept on making loving eyes at Hermione, while she, meanwhile, kept her bushy brown head bent over one of the many books she'd stolen from the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library, which she'd retrieved just after Dumbledore's funeral. Harry lifted his head slightly, his fingers twisting over the other in his denim-covered lap, as Kreacher stepped in just moments later, carrying a tray with a soup tureen filled with steaming porridge, a bowl of brown sugar, a dish of honey, and a pint of cream surrounding the massive silver dish.
"Master and his friends must keep their strength up," Kreacher informed him, setting the tray upon the table, before snapping his fingers, bowls and spoons appearing just before each person, and Hermione let out a squeak when it covered the page she was reading. "Perhaps Miss Granger can leave the reading for a few moments, and eat?" Kreacher asked, his voice far gentler towards her than it had been in days past.
"Yes, of course," Hermione said quickly, shooting Kreacher a small smile as she levitated the bowl for a moment, and set her books aside.
Kreacher snapped his fingers again, and, in a moment, each bowl was filled with the white, steamy stuff, and the spoons for the honey and sugar came up as well. "Just tell the spoons what you want, and tell the cream to come, if you wish it," the house-elf said softly. "Kreacher must see to the living room." He snapped his fingers one last time, and two steaming pots arrived, one filled with tea, the second with coffee, and each of the trio had a mug, plus a bowl full of white sugar lumps, and a bowl of milk. "Kreacher will be cleaning if you have need of him, Master Harry," he said, before snapping his fingers and disappearing.
"Go ahead," Harry said quietly, nodding at Ron, who looked ready to take a bite from the table, he looked so hungry.
"Thanks, mate!" Ron said, and summoned the bowl towards him, pouring his helping of porridge into it, before nodding for it to go to Hermione. "Still no word from Bill yet," he went on, nodding for the sugar and cream, and putting in more and more, until Hermione hissed at him, and, turning red to his ears, turned it over to her. "Either he's asked Fleur already, or he's waiting it out until she's in a good mood."
Hermione swore under her breath, before she turned to face Harry, relieved that he was actually making an effort to eat. "Honestly, Ronald, we women aren't the complex creatures you believe us to be," she said, fighting to keep her tone civil as she stirred sugar and a bit of cream into her breakfast bowl. "Usually, if you ask nicely enough, we'll weigh the pros and cons out before we'll give you an honest answer. If you don't happen to like the answer we give, that's your issue, not ours."
"Blimey, Hermione, you make it seem as if Fleur wouldn't be willing to help us at all," Harry said quietly, speaking for the first time, amid forcing himself to eat. "I know she's French, but I thought that she and I were friends..."
"A life for a life, maybe," Ron muttered over his steaming bowl. "You saved Gabriella during the Triwizard Tournament."
Hermione's teeth appeared to clench from within her jaw then, and her hand very nearly bent the spoon she was holding in half. "Unless you want to find yourself another girlfriend, Ronald, perhaps you could attempt to not consider Fleur snogging you in front of me. It was almost as bad as when you snogged Lavender in front of me..."
"Hermione, I've given you something I've never given other girls," Ron protested then, and Harry got to his feet at that, his breakfast halfway finished.
"I'm done eating," he said, and moved to leave the kitchen.
"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted, getting to her feet, her own breakfast nearly done, as she went after Harry, gripping a book in her hand. "Harry," she said desperately, running after him, and Harry turned around, seeing that she was also carrying the documentation and itemization of the Black family and their relatives' vaults from the Gringotts Bank. "I seem to have come across something in one of the books."
"Yeah?" Harry asked. "What did you find?"
"Well, the Horcruxes must've pertained to Hogwarts somehow—there must be a connection, anyway," Hermione said breathlessly. "Dumbledore said so, didn't he?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. He mentioned that."
"Well, I was thinking that they could pertain to the founders of Hogwarts," she said, her eyes shining in a moment of joy. "So, I cross-referenced my copy of Hogwarts: A History to see if, perhaps, anything that the founders particularly loved was mentioned..."
"Did you find anything?" Harry asked.
She nodded. "I did. The Sword of Gryffindor, of course. Then there's Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, which could be one, but I didn't find out much about it. Then the locket belonged to Salazar Slytherin, which we already knew..."
"Which leaves something to do with Hufflepuff," Ron said, stepping into the hallway outside the kitchen, an apologetic expression on his face.
Hermione sighed. "Good process of elimination, Ronald," she muttered, although Harry could see the smile in her voice as she flipped through the book, opening it to a page of a moving portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who smiled kindly upon whoever looked at her, and Harry took it to mean that there was one section dedicated to each founder of Hogwarts within the book. "Helga Hufflepuff had a cup," Hermione continued, before handing the book to Ron, who gazed at the portrait himself, as Hermione flipped through the documentation Kreacher had provided for them the day before, and opened it upon one of the itemization pages. "Helga Hufflepuff's Cup is mentioned in the things that Bellatrix Lestrange has in her vault!" she cried out then, her eyes rising to Harry's. "Which means that it could very well be a Horcrux!"
"You're brilliant, Hermione!" Harry shouted then, feeling a bit of happiness then as he threw his arms around her. "Of course it would be in her vault!"
"She's in love with You-Know-Who, no question," Ron said, as Harry let Hermione go. "He'd likely take that as a form of loyalty..."
"Meaning that he'd trust her to keep something that precious in her vault," Hermione said, and nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "Now that we've got the information about the locket and the cup, all we need is Bill and Fleur's help to get it."
"And a way to get into the second vault," Harry said quietly.
Ron sighed. "Harry's right. They'll let us into Sirius's vault without a problem, as he stipulated in his will—which should've been forwarded to the Ministry and the Bank—that Harry would receive all the Black family holdings. Since Harry's not related to the Lestrange bunch, it'll be difficult, if not damn near impossible, for him to get in. Unless Bill and Fleur distract everyone, and we use the Imperious Curse on our goblin guide..."
"No," Hermione said, her dark eyes turning on Ron, her voice firm.
"...which we would never do," Ron said quickly, "because it is an Unforgivable Curse, and goblin's deserve the same rights as Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike."
"We'll figure out a way," Harry said, a plan forming in his mind, but, like so many other things, he wasn't sure it was the right time to unveil it. Just as he was about to say something else, he sensed someone outside, wandering through the wards. "Accio invisibility cloak!" he shouted then, and it came flying out of Hermione's beaded back. "Get under!" he hissed, and, although Ron and Hermione were reluctant to do so, due to their sizes, it was better than no protection from the outside world at all.
"That was my foot, Ronald!" Hermione hissed through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione," Ron replied, annoyed.
"Quiet, both of you!" Harry said softly to them both, maneuvering them so as they faced the front door of the house. His heart entered his throat then as the door came open then, and a man stood in the shadows of the morning, before stepping inside, and shut the door behind him, the front hall light illuminating his face. "Remus!" Harry shouted, and he threw off the cloak, and dashed over to him, launching himself into his adoptive godfather's arms. "You're safe! You and Tonks got out!" he cried.
Remus grew stiff in Harry's arms then, something the trio noticed, and Harry immediately got down and looked up at him. "Yes. We made it out."
Hermione stepped forward, drawing Harry back and staring at him, drawing her wand just in case, and Remus did the same. "What did Remus Lupin and Sirius Black call me during my, Harry's, and Ron's third-year at Hogwarts?" she asked.
Remus smiled slightly. "We both called you the brightest witch of your age," he said without hesitation, and Hermione smiled at that. "What creature did Harry Potter and Hermione Granger steal to aid Sirius Black?"
Hermione nodded; with Sirius and Albus Dumbledore dead and Harry already accounted for, nobody else would know for sure about this other than them. "Buckbeak the Hippogriff," she said softly to him.
Remus lowered his wand then, as Hermione did herself, and sighed, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair. "Mind if I sit?"
"Of course!" Harry said, putting one of Remus's arms around his shoulders and guiding him into the living room, where he noticed Kreacher was no longer cleaning. "Do you want anything? A cup of tea, perhaps?"
"No, no. Not yet, anyway," Remus replied, allowing Harry to put him down upon one of the living room couches. He turned to him then as he sat beside him, his eyes filled with sadness and remorse.
"Remus, what's going on?" Hermione asked, her tone tentative as she and Ron stepped into the living room, moving to share the love seat opposite the couch. "The three of us can tell that there's something the matter..."
"Don't pressure him, 'Mione," Ron said gently.
"You're not, don't worry," Remus replied, raising his eyes towards them, his sad smile returning to his lips. "Don't worry," he said again.
"So, we shouldn't worry," Harry said, watching as Remus's eyes drifted back towards him, "but there's still something wrong?"
Remus hesitated before replying, "In a nutshell, yes."
"Did someone not make it out of the Burrow in time?" Ron asked, his mind immediately going to his family, for Bill had only been forthcoming about himself and Fleur. "Did we lose someone else?"
Remus shook his head. "As far as I know, everyone managed to get out of the Burrow. Some were questioned, but everyone was allowed to go free."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief; she may have thought that Fleur Delacour was a bit full of herself—due to her beauty—but, at the end of the day, she would never wish her ill. "That's good to know," she said softly.
"Remus," Harry said, now that they had the information that everyone had lived after the attack after Bill and Fleur's wedding, "please. Tell us what happened."
"Yeah, and why isn't Tonks with you?" Ron asked.
"Tonks!" Hermione squeaked, knowing all about the young Auror's pregnancy, and was suddenly worried for her friend. "Is she all right?"
Remus sighed. "When I left her, she was, yes."
"When you left her?!" Harry demanded then, his teeth on edge immediately, suddenly understanding the meaning behind Remus's remorseful demeanor, and body language. "What the hell do you mean, when you left her?!"
"Harry..." Hermione tried.
"No!" Harry snapped, giving Hermione a look of warning before turning back to Remus, feeling his entire body become a bundle of rage. "What do you mean, Remus?! Tell me."
Remus sighed. "You're right to be angry, Harry, but if you would just listen..."
Harry crossed his arms. "I'm listening," he said, his tone bitter nevertheless, for he couldn't even begin to comprehend his adoptive godfather's logic behind leaving his wife.
Remus sighed. "Well, you are aware that she is pregnant..."
Harry nodded stiffly. "We are."
"Well, it all just hit home after the wedding," Remus replied, his voice desperate, almost as if he wanted everyone to come over to his side on this matter. "I just... I couldn't allow myself to think about this child, Harry."
Harry blinked. "I don't understand."
Remus scoffed, getting to his feet and proceeding to pace around the living room. "No, I don't suppose you would. Your parents didn't leave willingly, Harry; I did. I didn't want to, but I had to leave..."
"Had to?!" Harry demanded, his hackles rising then as he leapt to his feet. "What the hell do you mean you had to leave?!" He grabbed Remus by the shoulder then, effortlessly whipping him around and glaring at him. "Explain," he ground out. "Now."
"The child has my blood, Harry," Remus said to his adoptive godson then, his voice a combination of devastation and rage.
Harry shook his head. "Your blood? What?"
"Not the blood he was born with, Harry, although I'm sure the child will have some of that. He means the blood he has now," Hermione said softly.
"Exactly," Remus replied, dragging his hands through his hair. "I did the most selfish thing imaginable by marrying Tonks—I've ruined her. And I've also ruined the child she carries, because that child... I'm sure it will be like me."
"Remus, you can't know that," Harry said quietly.
"Don't try to make this better with words of wisdom, Harry!" Remus shouted bitterly, narrowing his eyes at him. "I've singlehandedly impregnated Tonks with a monster!"
"You haven't!" Harry yelled.
"I have!" Remus yelled back. "And you wouldn't understand, Harry, because you've never known true, monstrous pain—!"
"The hell I haven't!" Harry roared, the words tearing out of his throat before he could make an effort to call them back. "You hardly know anything about me, Remus, as I've elected to keep it under wraps since I was fifteen! I was raped, Remus, raped!" he cried out then, and Hermione gasped from beside him, while Ron got to his feet, and Remus stared, unblinking, at him. "I was raped by my uncle for being a freak! I was branded a freak from the time I could crawl. When Uncle Vernon figured that his belt didn't suffice for proper punishment, then he would slam me against the wall and do unspeakable things to me!"
Remus tensed from opposite Harry. "Did... Did Dumbledore...?"
"Did he know?" Harry barked, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "I'm sure he did, yeah. I tried to tell him about the pain and suffering I went through during the summers, but he never wanted to hear it, all because of those godforsaken blood wards." He shook his head then, cutting off Remus before he could try and speak again. "Don't. Just don't." Harry bit down hard on his lower lip, recalling the pain as he remembered it, almost as if he was being ripped from the inside out, the blood never-ending. "Get upstairs to one of the bedrooms, Remus. I'll instruct Kreacher to listen out for you if you want anything."
"Harry..."
"UPSTAIRS NOW!" Harry yelled, turning away from Remus then, and stiffened when he touched his shoulder, and shrugged it off. "I said 'now'," Harry said, his voice deathly calm in the next moment, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard him heading out of the living room and up the stairs.
"Harry..."
Harry sighed, Hermione's voice calling him back to earth then as he turned to face her. "Look, I know I should've told you as soon as it happened..."
"We don't care about that, mate," Ron said, moving forward and gently pulling Harry into his arms, which Harry accepted—his first true friend, other than Hagrid. "We're just glad you told us now."
"Harry, we're so sorry," Hermione said, and when Harry craned his neck to gaze at her over Ron's shoulder, he could see the tears in her eyes. "If we'd known, maybe we could've gone to Dumbledore..."
"I know my mum and dad think of you like theirs, mate," Ron assured him, pulling back, and keeping his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Their words might've done something with Dumbledore..."
Harry sighed, shaking his head. "It's over now," he replied, smiling slightly then. "I never have to go back, or see them again..."
"That's not the point, Harry," Hermione said quickly. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place, and I'm appalled that Dumbledore did nothing."
Ron sighed. "Well, whether it should've happened or not, it is over, mate."
"Anything else you want to tell us?" Hermione asked, dashing the tears from her eyes, before she stepped forward and kissed Harry's cheek.
He swallowed then; the time was now, and whether he wanted to or not, he knew it was high time he told his best friends this. "I'm gay."
Ron's eyes widened. "What?"
"I'm gay," he repeated.
Hermione smiled then, her eyes shining even more than they had when they realized that Bellatrix Lestrange was in possession of Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. "So, that was why you were so awkward with Ginny at the Burrow," she said quietly.
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
"Well... When did you know?" Ron asked.
"Ronald!" Hermione screeched. "That's rude!"
"No, it's fine," Harry assured her, putting up a hand. "I had a vague idea of it after Slughorn's Christmas party..."
"But... But you and Ginny..." Ron began.
Harry nodded. "I know, Ron," he said softly. "Guess I just thought it made sense. The Boy Who Lived finally gets with the girl who's supposedly loved him for years. It made sense, at the time, being with Ginny. I know it was selfish of me, to lead her on like that—only if it was just for a few weeks—but I was really confused."
"You said it was after Slughorn's Christmas party," Hermione said quietly. "Did something happen to make you draw that conclusion?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I kissed someone."
"Blimey, mate! Who was it?" Ron asked.
Harry wetted his lips then, unsure, but ultimately knew that he would have to trust the both of them to be supportive. "Severus."
"As in Snape?!" Ron demanded.
Hermione swatted his arm again. "Honestly, Ronald, you need to keep your temper," she chastised him before turning to Harry. "I'm sure you can understand how shocked we are by the second part of your declaration, Harry."
Harry smirked. "Yeah. I was pretty shocked when we kissed," he replied.
"What was it like?" Ron asked.
Harry blinked, surprised that Ron was okay with hearing about it. "Different," he said softly then, and he shook his head. "I don't know why I'm getting these conflicting feelings... I mean, he killed Dumbledore, and he's a Death Eater, but..."
"But you care about him," Hermione said softly. "Well, as long as he doesn't attempt to hand you over to You-Know-Who..."
"We're all right with it, mate," Ron said with a smile. "Just, please. It's still Snape. Just be careful about it, you know?"
Harry nodded. "I think that's the idea," he replied.
. . .
Once Harry and Remus got on the same page, and Harry urged Remus to return to Tonks, things were quiet until the following day, when Ron received a fire call from Bill, informing the trio that he and Fleur were in with helping them. Harry went to sleep that night, feeling slightly relieved, although still nervous, for only half the plan was formed. He tossed and turned that night in Sirius's old bedroom, finally falling to sleep sometime after midnight. When dawn broke, the sky was pink, and Harry forced himself out of bed and into the shower. When his mind lingered to Severus once more, he gritted his teeth.
"Fuck it," he muttered.
He dashed back out into Sirius's bedroom then, dressing quickly and tossing some Floo Powder into the fireplace, which suddenly turned green and roared to life. "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said, and stepped into the flames without any form of hesitation. In a moment, he tumbled out into the office on the other side, and muttered "Tergeo," to himself, before he raised his eyes. He wandered towards Severus's bedroom, and rightly assumed that he was still asleep, and said, "Alohomora," under his breath, before he stepped inside. "Severus," he said, and shut the door behind him.
Severus stirred from beneath his blanketed, before his eyes opened and regarded Harry, who stood just inside his bedroom. A smirk came over his face then as he considered the situation handed to him. "I think I would remember inviting you into my bedroom, Harry," he said as he pushed back the blankets and got to his feet, wordlessly summoning a black robe to cover himself, although Harry found he wouldn't have minded the long, black nightshirt he wore, which showed off his beautiful legs.
"Dumbledore trusted you," Harry said quietly.
Severus inclined his head at that. "Yes. He did."
He sighed, squaring his shoulders then. "Can I do the same?" he asked him, his voice raising an octave, greatly daring. "I mean, I know you're a Death Eater and all, Severus, but, I don't believe that Dumbledore was a stupid man...despite everything."
Severus sighed then, cautiously stepping forward. "You can trust me, Harry," he replied, his tone soft, and not at all malicious. "Who hurt you?"
"My uncle," Harry replied.
Severus blinked. "And Dumbledore knew of this?"
"I believe so, yeah," Harry said softly, and a slight gasp escaped his lips as Severus came towards him then, and pulled him into his arms, and he felt himself relaxing almost immediately as he settled into them. "Of course, I can never know for sure. Whenever I tried to bring up what happened...the assaults," he said, whispering the word, but he knew Severus had heard, for he tightened his grip around him and swore under his breath, "he would always change the subject to something else. He always said we had much to discuss, that final year, and he said we could not be afforded any distractions."
"I am sorry for this, Harry," Severus whispered.
Harry pulled back slightly, permitting his green eyes to meet Severus's black ones. "What are you sorry for, Severus?"
"For everything," he replied. "All of it. For my treatment of you all these years. For keeping you in the dark, when you deserve to know everything. For killing Dumbledore, although you must understand, I did not do it to be malicious. I never fancied myself as a headmaster, and I hope you can understand that."
Harry sighed, climbing with his fingers along the buttons of Severus's robes. "Well, I'll trust you to tell me when you deem it to be appropriate," he replied.
Severus nodded. "I swear it, I will."
Harry smiled. "Good," he replied. "Because I have a problem, and I wanted to ask you your opinion on something."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "What problem?"
"Dumbledore... You know he sent us on a journey?"
"To destroy Horcruxes, I know of it," Severus replied. "You can rest assured that the Dark Lord knows of this, but he shan't hear of your progress from me."
"That's a relief," Harry replied. "Because we've found two of them. We know how we can get one of them, but not the other. We know where they are. We just need to figure out a way to get the second one without detection."
"Where are they?"
Harry sighed. "It's better that you don't know," he replied, squeezing Severus's shoulder. "I wouldn't want anything bad happening to you for knowing the information."
"Harry, you don't need to protect me..."
"Yes, I do," Harry said, his tone fierce as he stared up at him. "Because, when this war is over, I want you in one piece. When this war is over, we'll both be free. When this war is over, and there are no more secrets between us, we'll have the rest of our lives, a life I want to spend with you, Severus, if that is something you may want," he said, and he found himself stumbling over the words then, for the two had not discussed anything of the sort, and all discussions had been implied until now.
Severus shook his head. "You don't want me, Harry. You could never..."
"I absolutely want you, Severus," Harry replied. "Ever since you kissed me outside of Slughorn's Christmas party. You made me feel whole again. You made me feel cherished; loved, even, even though we haven't done anything like that since. I know there's the age difference to account for, plus your loyalty—on skin, at least," he said, and rolled up Severus's sleeve, and dragged his fingers over the Dark Mark gently, and watched as Severus hissed through his teeth and shut his eyes at the contact, "to You-Know-Who, but I don't care. Dumbledore must've trusted you for a reason, and while you say the time isn't now, I will wait with bated breath to find out the reason, because I care for you, Severus. You're not getting away from me, and as soon as the war ends, we'll have the rest of our lives, if that's what you want."
"Of course it is," Severus said quietly, pulling him towards him again and holding him close. "I have wanted it for a very long time."
"So have I," Harry whispered. "A long time..."
"Polyjuice Potion," Severus said after a moment of silence.
Harry blinked, pulling back from Severus then, and peering up at him. "Polyjuice Potion?" he asked his former professor, and shook his head. "For what?"
"For you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger," he replied. "I assume you will be able to get some hair on your own?"
Harry nodded. "I'm sure that's doable."
"Wonderful," Severus replied, letting Harry go and motioning for him to follow him to his stores, located beside the headmaster's desk, where he retrieved three vials each, and handed them over to Harry, who pocketed them. "They also have a charm upon the bottles," Severus explained, and, when Harry blinked, he smiled indulgently. "Meaning that even if you fall from a great height or accidentally drop them, they won't break. Since you were never particularly skilled at potions until Professor Slughorn took a liking to you, it is no surprise that you didn't know that."
Harry turned and looked around, seeing all the former headmasters were still asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief. "I think it was you," he replied.
Severus blinked. "What?"
"You are the Half-Blood Prince, and I had your book," Harry said with a cheeky grin. "You helped me so much last year. I never thanked you properly."
Severus shook his head. "I cannot accept a thank you from you, Harry, for I do not deserve such a thing, when you are still in the dark about so much."
"Well, then I shall thank you when you can inform me of such things," Harry said simply, and stepped forward, throwing his arms around Severus again, and kissing him briefly, before he pulled back, threw some Floo Powder onto the fire, and called for Grimmauld Place in Parseltongue, so that Severus wouldn't know where he was hiding out. Turning, he put up a hand to wave before he stepped backwards into the flames, leaving Severus alone in the office, and with the title, he never wanted.