"Boy."
Uncle Vernon's words immediately set Harry on edge. He had been ordered to wait for him in his bedroom, kneeling on the hardwood floor, back straight, eyes facing the window, which still had the bars on it from the summer before his second-year at Hogwarts. The summer sunshine, which should've normally been a comfort, seemed to be mocking Harry as Uncle Vernon slammed and locked the door behind him; Harry did his best not to stiffen automatically as he heard the clink of his uncle's belt, which momentarily hit the floor, as he got it out from around his meaty middle, and flexed it between his massive palms and sausage-like fingers.
"Do you know why you're being punished, today boy?" Uncle Vernon hissed, his voice filled with as much loathing as he could muster, as his stout feet banged along the floor and came towards him. "You do know that much, don't you?"
"Because I'm a freak," Harry said, his voice soft, but loud enough for his uncle to hear him, and he knew it, too, for he heard him chuckle in pleasure behind him. Harry, who had been told to keep his hands, palm down, atop his bent legs, enfolded his fingers into his own palms, his nails biting the sensitive flesh there; however, he knew, deep down, that it would be a fraction of the pain he would feel at his uncle's hands.
"Very good," Uncle Vernon went on, stepping closer, the floor shuddering beneath his massive amount of weight. He smirked with glee as Harry took in a sharp breath at the sound of his belt buckle temporarily hitting the floor. "Straighter!" he shouted then, and Harry did his best to straighten his spine as far as it would go. "Good." He then held the piece of leather aloft in the air, the sun momentarily glinting on the buckle, and slashed it through the air, the resulting mark on Harry's back a moment of pure ecstasy for him.
Harry gritted his teeth, fighting back tears as Uncle Vernon continued the vicious assault upon his back. He considered egging him on, telling him he needed his back red and raw; anything beat getting raped by him. But Harry hadn't been asked a direct question; he'd been taught, for the most part, growing up to only speak when spoken to. As Uncle Vernon had said nothing to warrant a response, he'd been ordered, by omission, to keep silent. Rendered speechless, Harry raised his eyes upwards at the sun again, tears flowing from his green eyes behind his glasses, as he mentally counted the summer days, until such a time as he could return to Hogwarts. He would turn sixteen very soon, and although his "freaky little friends", as Uncle Vernon called them, would want to send him gifts, Harry had begged them not to, as he knew that they would be held before him as if he was one of Aunt Marge's dogs, before thrown on the fire, or destroyed by Uncle Vernon—or Dudley, as his cousin delighted in such a pastime.
Harry was hardly aware that Uncle Vernon had finished, other than the notion that his legs were threatening to fall asleep at any moment. He stiffened when the belt clattered, for the last time that day, to the floor, and Uncle Vernon caught hold of his hips, pulling him up so that he was now on his knees. He bit into his lower lip then, tasting his own blood, as Uncle Vernon pulled him closer still, and shoved his massive erection into his backside. Harry's eyes shut immediately then, bracing himself for the pain as he was stretched completely then. The hot breath on his neck and the groaning in his ear sent bile into his throat, but Harry knew well enough by then that, if he lost control, that it would be worse for him. If he did so, Uncle Vernon would threaten to shove his cock down Harry's throat, or worse, strangle him.
Harry forced himself to think of something else and the thought came unbidden to him as he opened his eyes. Black robes seemed to be hovering before him and, when they landed, he saw himself looking into the eyes of Severus Snape. Harry found himself shocked by this, as this dream was more of a memory than anything else, and he knew full well that his former Potions Master was not in the room during the assault.
"Bombarda!" Severus screamed then, his wand having come out of his robes immediately, and suddenly Uncle Vernon was ripped out from Harry's insides, causing Harry to scream for a moment as his oaf of an uncle crashed into the wall behind him. He then lowered his eyes to Harry, before gently guiding him to his feet. "You're not hurt, are you?"
Harry shook his head then. "I don't understand," he whispered. "How is it that you're here? I don't..."
"I've been able to watch dreams for years, Harry, but I only recently mastered the art of entering them," he explained patiently, guiding Harry into his arms. "Next time you come to see me, I will give you some Dreamless Sleep Potion."
Harry's arms wrapped automatically around Severus, suddenly feeling safer than he had ever been in his entire life. "I wish it didn't have to be like this..."
"Like what?" Severus asked.
"Being on opposite sides. Me having to kill that madman. Us having to keep secrets from one another," he said softly.
Severus stiffened in his arms, before pulling back from Harry. "So, this is not merely a nightmare for you, then?"
Harry sighed. "No. More like a memory. It didn't stop until this past summer, before I left for the Burrow, just before the Trace got off me..."
Severus lifted his black eyes towards the disheveled lump that was Vernon Dursley, his lips curling in distaste and rage. "So, your uncle is the one who hurt you?"
Harry nodded stiffly. "Yeah."
"Fuck," Severus whispered, not letting Harry go. "Listen, Harry, I don't want you to think that you're obligated to..."
Harry stood on his toes then, pressing his lips briefly to Severus's, before getting back down once again. "I don't think that at all," he said softly. "Ever since you kissed me outside of Slughorn's Christmas party, I can't get it out of my head. I meant what I said, Severus—you do drive me crazy. I'm also crazy about you. It has nothing to do with what my uncle did to me, and everything to do with who I am and what I want. After this war is over, I will come for you, and defend you, for as long as it takes. Because, once this is all over, I'll want you for the rest of my life, and I don't give a shit about what others might think. If you want me—or if you ever wanted me in the first place—and you still want me by the time I kill snake-nose, then I'm all yours, for the rest of our lives."
Severus looked shocked at the young man's words, before gathering him back into his arms. "I shall always want you, Harry. Always."
Harry grinned against his former professor's robes. "Always," he whispered, taking comfort in that one word which held everything.
. . .
Harry awoke drenched in a cold sweat, relieved that he could no longer feel the pain inflicted on him by Uncle Vernon, but disappointed at the ache inside himself, now that Severus's arms were no longer wrapped around him. He shoved off the blankets of the great bed, casting the Tempus Charm, and realized it was close to seven in the morning. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he shuffled over to the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him and turning the shower on, the steam filling the room.
He stiffened as he lowered his pajama pants, mortification entering his bloodstream as he saw his erection threatening to poke through his boxers. "Merlin," he whispered, "I've got it bad." Harry took off the boxers and his erection sprang free, and he rolled his eyes as he stepped inside and under the stream of water. He leaned against the tiled wall, biting his lower lip, his loins aching as he imagined Severus Snape unabashedly pounding him into the surface.
Harry banished the thoughts from his mind as quickly as he could, although he still came undone through his fingers at the notion of Severus touching him everywhere. After washing himself as best he could, he left the shower and trudged back to the bedroom he'd been occupying, and dressed quickly before heading downstairs. He smelled eggs, sausages, toast, potatoes, and tea wafting through the house, and wasn't surprised to already see Ron and Hermione sitting at the table talking amongst themselves. Kreacher had presumably already left the vicinity to do his other chores, and Harry reluctantly sat at the head of the table, as he was now the Master of the House of Black.
"Any word from Bill yet, Ron?" Harry asked.
Ron shook his head. "No," he replied.
"I have a feeling it will be today," Hermione said quietly, her nose in the book that Dumbledore had left her, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, while all the while she took another delicate bite of her scrambled eggs. "Fleur usually makes up her mind quickly. I heard that within a week of her arrival at Hogwarts, she had already decided to enter the Triwizard Tournament." She raised her brown eyes to Harry's green ones then, and watched as her friend sipped at his tea and nibbled at a piece of dry toast. "Harry..."
"What?" he asked, his tone subdued, while Ron took another bite of a massive sausage from the seat next to him.
"Are you all right?" she whispered. "You look exhausted."
Harry sighed. "I'll be fine, Hermione," he replied.
She nodded. "I know you will," she said softly, taking the serving fork and putting some eggs onto his plate. "You need your strength," she told him, her tone gentle yet firm as he fixed her with a look.
"She's right, mate," Ron said with his mouth full, earning him a glare from Hermione, which went, for the most part, unnoticed. "If the bust at Gringotts happens today, I don't want you keeling over. You may be smaller than I am, but I don't fancy carrying you around."
Harry gave his friend a loathing look. "Thanks, Ron," he replied.
No sooner had the words passed through Harry's lips did the dining room fireplace suddenly turn a blazing green color. The trio stared at each other for a moment before abandoning their respective breakfasts and darting over to the hearth to answer the call. Harry, kneeling in the center as it was his home, leaned into the flamed and felt his eyebrows raising automatically at the sight of Bill and Fleur Weasley staring back at him.
"Morning," Harry managed to say, yet was unable to keep the surprise from his voice. "Sorry about running out on the wedding, Fleur," he said softly.
"It 'ees all right, 'arry," she told him, her pale eyes shining with newly wedded bliss. "I vould not vish you to come to 'arm."
"I appreciate that," Harry said, his eyes turning over to Bill. "I take it that this isn't a social call, unless it is..."
"It's not," Bill said, shaking his head as he took Fleur's hand. "We wanted to let the three of you know that we're in."
"Brilliant!" shouted Ron from beside Harry, and Hermione glared at him again.
"We assume you'll be disguised," Bill continued, looking from one of them to the other.
"Harry's got Polyjuice," Hermione informed Bill quietly, and he and Fleur nodded. "We'll just need some goblin hair..."
"We vill use zee Imperius Curse," Fleur said softly, "to compel zee goblins to 'and over zheir hair," she informed them.
"As much as I disapprove of Unforgivables," Hermione told Fleur, "I suppose you're right. At the end of it, it won't really hurt them."
"We'll Obliviate them, too, of course," Bill continued, "before convincing them to return home for the duration of the day."
"Bill and I thought you could come through 'ere," Fleur explained, gesturing to their house, Shell Cottage, on the other side of the fire call. "You can use 'arry's invisibility cloak and follow us to zee bank. Zhen, we vill use zee spells on zhe goblins, get zheir 'air, and zend zhem 'ome. You three vill zhen transform into zhe goblins vhile Bill and I cause great distraction to zhe bank, which vill make it zuitable for you to get zee things."
Harry nodded. "That sounds like a plan. Thanks, Fleur."
"You zaved my life in zhe maze, 'arry," Fleur said, smiling at him. "If zhis vill ensure zhe takedown of zhe Dark Lord, zhen I vill 'elp all I can."
"Thanks, Fleur," Ron said from next to Harry. "We'll check around here, make sure we've got everything, and head over within the hour."
"We'll be expecting you, then," Bill said, smiling warmly at his brother.
"Zee you soon, zhen," Fleur said, and the call ended.
Hermione flitted around Grimmauld Place like a buzzing bee or a flapping bird for the next forty-five minutes, using the Extension Charm in her beaded bag to the maximum. Making sure that the books weren't crushing the vials of Polyjuice Potion, Harry and Ron merely stood around looking at each other, wondering if Hermione had gone mad. Finally, Hermione came into the living room where the pair waited, and rolled her eyes as Ron chewed on a makeshift sausage roll, leftover from breakfast.
"Honestly, Ronald," she muttered, casting a quick cleaning spell on his hands before they all stepped towards the fireplace.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"Let's go," Ron replied.
. . .
After stumbling through the Floo and into Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur instructed the trio to get under the cloak immediately while the five of them Apparated to Gringotts. Once there, Bill and Fleur got inside as normal, while the trio were undetected as they walked along the highly-polished marble floors of the black. Harry felt trepidation filling him then from beneath the glass and jewel chandeliers, just hoping that, for once, all hell wouldn't break loose on this plan, and that they could merely fetch the Horcruxes and get out.
Bill somehow managed to summon Ricbert, Bogrod, and Nimbley towards him and Fleur without much detection, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped towards them, while Hermione cast a Silencing Charm to the area. Bill cast the curse at the trio of goblins, and they all three took on a calm and willing demeanor almost instantly. It was Fleur who asked them for their hairs, which they freely gave to her, and Hermione's hand darted out from beneath the cloak and added the three hairs to each vial. Bill then Obliviated the three of them before convincing them to return home for the day, and they all left.
"Ugh," Ron groaned as he sipped the liquid. "It's green..." His lips puckered as he inhaled it. "It smells like rancid spinach..."
"Just drink it, Ron," Hermione hissed, sipping her purple liquid. "Grapes," she said softly to Ron's questioning look. "All right, Harry?" she asked as she turned to look at him.
"Fine. Smells like the sea," Harry muttered, forcing himself to tip the light blue liquid down his throat, detecting the taste of salt, and something else he couldn't quite place. He shuddered for a moment then as he, Ron, and Hermione all shrunk dramatically, and Hermione took the cloak and put it in her beaded bag.
"Well?" she asked, her voice coming out as a squeak.
"You're Nimbley," Bill explained, "and Harry's Ricbert, while Ron is Bogrod."
"Thanks, Bill," Ron muttered.
"Ve vill create zee distraction now," Fleur said, smiling at each of them in turn.
"You'll have an hour," Bill said softly, aware of how long the affects of Polyjuice Potion lasted from his time under Severus Snape. "Best be quick."
Harry nodded. "We will be," he said, as Hermione summoned the faded documentation from her bag, which she'd told the boys also contained a map of Gringotts with the best ways to each Black family member's vaults.
"Now," Fleur whispered, and conjured a Eurasian Lynx out of thin air, which let out a yowl at the notion of becoming sentient. However, none of the goblins reacted to this; no, it was the mighty roar from somewhere deep inside the bank that caused great uproar, as the floor shook their feet, and the chandelier swayed dramatically. Then, the goblins looked up, before the rattling of chain deep within could be heard, and then, the show.
A great Ukrainian Ironbelly came clawing its way from somewhere within the deep corridors of the bank, still chained to the pillar it had freed itself from. Hermione, for her part, looked horrified as she, Harry, and Ron darted back. She screamed, "Reducto!" and the chains burst from around the dragon, as it destroyed the foyer and made chase to the little cat, who seemed to be having the time of its life.
"Go!" Bill hissed. "The cat is enchanted never to get tired, or allow the dragon to catch it, but this won't last long!"
"Zhe Minister of Magic may come," Fleur said softly. "Zhe last thing we need are Death Eaters to come in here."
"She's right," Ron said, grabbing Harry and Hermione with his goblin fingers and hauling them to the cracked doorway where the dragon had escaped from just moments ago.
The trio ran on their short legs towards a cart, which they got into quickly. Hermione, still gripping tightly to the map, motioned to Ron which way to turn the enchanted wheel. No sooner had Hermione given Ron the correct way to go, than the cart sped off, leaving Hermione to grip the map, Harry the sides of the car, and Ron the wheel to ensure they didn't go flying. Once they arrived at the Black family vault, Harry got out of the cart and tricked the lock with his goblin claw, causing the door to open for him.
"Accio locket," he whispered, his wand in hand. The locket wasn't summoned, but Harry heard a distinct humming, and knew that it was Voldemort's soul calling out to him. Stepping towards it and looking around, he spotted it at last, in a highly-polished curio case on a bed of expensive-looking green velvet. "Alohomora," he whispered, and the case opened for him, and Harry grabbed the locket before darting out of the vault and kicking the door behind him, which then locked automatically.
Hermione quickly read Ron the coordinates of the Lestrange family vault as she stuffed the locket into her bag, and the cart surged to life again. They went at rapid speed towards the door, which looked quite similar to the Black family vault, likely given their Slytherin leanings. Harry got to his feet once they arrived, using his goblin claw a second time, and the lock tripped, opening up for him. It was cave-like inside, and although it was stuffed with more treasures than the Black family vault, it was nowhere near as light inside, and the organization left something to be desired.
"Where do you think it'll be?" Ron whispered.
Harry sighed. "I heard some humming with the locket," he told them. Looking around, he turned back to Hermione then, and said, "Can I see your copy of Hogwarts: A History again?"
Normally about to chastise Harry for wasting time, Hermione nevertheless summoned the book and tossed it effortlessly over to Harry. Harry caught the book, flipping through to the index so as he could readily get to the section on Helga Hufflepuff. Finding it, he skimmed the paragraphs and looked briefly at the photo of her; the kindly witch with dark hair smiled at him, and who held a golden cup in her hand. Harry studied the painting briefly before he tossed the book back at Hermione, and surveyed the various high shelves, polished cases, and decorative boxes from within the Lestrange vault.
It was then, on the highest shelf to the ceiling, that Harry spotted a row of golden cups. He lifted his wand then, as the buzzing seemed to enter his ears with full force, and whispered, "Accio." It came with flying speed towards him, and Harry wondered if Helga Hufflepuff's kindness was on his side that early August day.
Harry ran from the vault then, darting back into the cart as Hermione spelled the door closed. It was then that Ron darted for the wheel of the cart, and the trio surged back towards the entrance to all the vaults. They looked at the chaos unfolding around them, and Hermione summoned the cloak from the bag before anyone could catch sight of them. Harry grabbed it, throwing it over their bodies before they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, knowing that, had they remained there much longer, Voldemort's followers would have surely caught their escape.
. . .
Harry awoke in mid-morning the day after the Gringotts bust, a Tuesday, and he felt more rested than he had in a long time. He hadn't had nightmares at all, but he still wanted to get his Dreamless Sleep Potion from Severus, as he missed the man, and knew that it would be better if he planned for the future. Throwing himself out of bed and into the shower, he knew that his lower body had responded to his thoughts of his former Potions Master, and he hoped, as he stroked himself, that he'd be able to alleviate some of the tension later that day.
After heading downstairs and indulging in a full English breakfast, he did his best to partake in the conversation of destroying the Horcruxes they'd gotten the day before. Now that the diary and the ring had been destroyed, and they were in possession of two others, they were on track to potentially wipe out more than half of them as soon as they destroyed the locket and the cup. It was a casual morning for the trio as they sipped cups of tea after breakfast in the living room, and Harry wondered what the future would bring—he knew that Ron and Hermione would be married one day, and he too wondered if such a thing would come to pass for him. He decided to thank his friends with a surprise that evening, now that he had plans to meet with Severus in the headmaster's rooms at Hogwarts, and knew that paying them back was the least he could do, for how many times had they come to his aide, really?
"Kreacher," Harry said quietly, as he got ready for his evening with Severus.
Kreacher popped into Sirius's old bedroom, which Harry had, by now, quite adopted, and bowed to him. "Yes, Master Harry?"
"I have to run out for a while, so I shan't be in need of dinner, just a light snack later," he informed the elf, who bowed again. "I would appreciate it if you would make a roast chicken, boiled potatoes, carrots, and Gryffindor Cake for dinner this evening. I would very much like it if you could procure some Butterbeer as well. Please light the candles in their best sticks and serve it in the dining room, for two, with the fanciest china, silver, and a tablecloth. This dinner is for Ron and Hermione," he explained.
Kreacher bowed. "Naturally, Master Harry. Kreacher will do this. He longs to serve the heir to the House of Black." He smiled then, his ears twitching slightly. "If that will be all, Master Harry?" he asked, likely wanting to be dismissed so as he could get to work.
"Yes, Kreacher, that's all. Thank you."
"No thanks necessary, Master Harry," Kreacher replied, before snapping his fingers and disappearing from the bedroom.
Harry turned and looked out the window; he knew the sun wasn't due to set for another couple of hours, and so he walked over to the bed—which Kreacher had made whilst the trio had been enjoying breakfast—and lay upon it. He stared up at the ceiling and, smirking to himself, conjured the curtains and furnishings to turn from green, black, and silver into red and gold. He laughed to himself then, knowing that Walburga Black would surely disapprove of such a thing if Sirius had done it, considering what she had done when Sirius had run away from home when he was sixteen.
He must've dozed off, for the next thing he heard were those sweet lips and that tempting voice whispering his name, and his green eyes shot open, and quickly became riveted at the hearth a few feet away from his bed. Getting to his feet, he could vaguely smell the roast chicken cooking from down below, and saw that the sun had set completely. Darting over to the fireplace, he saw the face of Severus Snape within the flames, and Harry felt himself grinning stupidly at him, especially when a small smile played at the older man's lips.
"I've finished with my duties this evening, Harry," he said, his voice soft. "Feel free to come over to the castle, if you like."
"I would like," Harry replied before he could stop himself, before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and strutting in. Once he'd passed through, he threw his arms around Severus without hesitation, and joy flew threw him as the man chuckled, holding him back. "It feels like it's been forever," Harry whispered.
"An age, I assure you, Harry, was not merely one-sided," Severus confirmed, his long fingers going into Harry's dark locks in an attempt to tame them. "Oh, before I forget..." He released Harry for a moment and wandered over to one of his massive sets of potion drawers, located behind the headmaster's desk. He reached inside and feted a handful of vials and handed them over to Harry. "Only a few drops, per sleep."
Harry smiled. "Thank you," he said, putting them into the pocket of his jeans, before he put his arms around Severus again.
Severus chuckled at the movement, carding his hands through his hair again. "What have you three been doing with yourself, Harry?"
Harry sighed, content for a moment before he suddenly yanked himself back from Severus's arms, and stared wildly up at him. "You fire called me."
Severus blinked. "Yes."
He shook his head then, worrying his bottom lip. "In order to do that, you would have had to know where I am... Where the three of us are..."
Severus sighed. "It was a guess..."
"Oh, no," Harry moaned then, putting his face in his hands. "The last thing I need is You-Know-Who after me now, but Ron and Hermione...I can't..."
"Harry, listen to me," Severus said, gently placing his palms upon Harry's shoulders, which caused him to raise his eyes, green meeting black. "You can trust me. I said as much. And even though I cannot tell you everything now, I've promised to do so."
"I understand that," Harry said, quickly losing his nerves as he stared at Severus. "But what if You-Know-Who figures out where...?"
"He won't," Severus told him firmly. "With Legilimency, it is merely a matter of supplanting one memory for another. If the Dark Lord attempts to invade my mind, which he surely will, I will merely go along with the reports that your whereabouts are unknown. I can easily put in false memories to dissuade him, or others, where I've sworn my loyalty to him in the past. He will believe me, Harry, for I would never willingly bring harm to you."
Harry sighed. "But... You figured out where I was..."
Severus nodded. "Yes. While Grimmauld Place was merely a guess on my part, it was a decent one, I suppose. Given that Black left you the home in his will, along with everything else in the Black family fortunes..." Something in Severus's mind seemed to click then as he stared down at Harry in a moment of shock.
"Severus?" Harry asked, reaching up and touching the man's face. "Severus, what's wrong? You look worried..."
"It was you three, wasn't it, who broke into Gringotts yesterday?" he whispered then, searching Harry's eyes. "That is why you needed Polyjuice..."
Harry sighed. "Yeah, it was us..."
"For Salazar's sake, Harry!" Severus shouted then, shaking his head before dragging Harry towards him, holding the young Gryffindor against him. "Do you realize how potentially dangerous that all was?"
"Severus, this is me we're talking about..."
Severus sneered. "Don't give me the 'I'm the bloody Chosen One' speech..."
"I'm not," Harry said, pulling back so as he could meet Severus's eyes. "I faced You-Know-Who my first year at Hogwarts. I faced his memory in my second year, and destroyed a Horcrux to boot, while dying from a Basilisk bite. Not to mention facing the betrayer of my mother and father in third year," he said, and saw a trace of sadness in Severus's eyes at that statement, but nevertheless plowed on, "and faced You-Know-Who again fourth year, after he murdered Cedric Diggory. Then, in fifth year, I lost Sirius, before casting Crucio on Bellatrix Lestrange. And then, just months ago, I saw a man who I could come to love kill my mentor. And do you know what, Severus? After all that... After all that, I forgive you," Harry whispered, taking Severus's face into his hands and staring into his eyes. "After you killed Dumbledore, and made my previous six years at Hogwarts complete hell—demeaning me, taking house points, and doing god knows what to tear me down—I forgive you. All the rage and resentment evaporated that Christmas, when you kissed me outside of that goddamn Christmas party. Everything changed, and although I felt confusion after you killed Dumbledore... I can't explain it. Everything is different now, but I'm never happier in life than I am when I'm with you."
Severus stared down at Harry, wondering how a mere seventeen-year-old boy could spout the words of a man. Out of everything, everything that he'd said, Severus only focused on one thing that Harry had said. "Love?" he whispered.
Harry smiled ruefully up at him. "After all I said just then, Severus, that's what you got out of that fucking monologue?" he asked, and laughed. "I appreciate that you're worried about me, Severus, but I don't want a parental figure, especially from you. I want you to be my lover and my boyfriend."
Severus's eyes darkened then at Harry's words, before a moment later when he slammed the young man up against the wall behind him. "Finally," he whispered, and yanked his chin up, and devoured his mouth.
Harry felt his senses turn on like wildfire then as he knotted his fingers into the long raven locks then, his heart beating a mile a minute, and his mouth opening beneath Severus's. He permitted his tongue to meet his, and felt a moan escape his mouth as soon as they met. He felt his hands automatically go upwards to the buttons at Severus's collar then, intending to remove all of his clothes and to shove him into the bedroom then, but Severus caught his hands, and pulled back, a cry of disappointment coming from Harry. "Severus," he pleaded.
Severus sighed, pressing his forehead against Harry's. "You have no idea how much I want you, Harry, or all that I want to do to you..."
Harry whined then, pressing his body up against Severus's. "So do it," he begged.
He shook his head. "Not yet," he replied, leaning down and kissing him again. "Not while the world is so uncertain."
"But I want you," Harry whispered.
Severus smiled. "And I want you," he assured him. "But I know full well that, the moment I have you, I'm never going to be able to let you go. If that's the case, I'll never let you out of my bed again, and how will you defeat the Dark Lord then?"
Harry sighed, petulant. "You're probably right..."
"Well, I can help you with your sadness," he said, beckoning a sight unseen with his fingers, and something swathed in black velvet came flying from Severus's bedroom. "Think of it as a late birthday present, and something that should have been given to you long before now."
Harry blinked, removing the black velvet, and felt his eyes widening at the ruby and gold hilt in his hand. "The Sword of Gryffindor," he whispered, and raised his eyes to Severus.
"It was left to you by Albus in his will," Severus explained.
Harry nodded, returning the sword inside the velvet. Hesitating for a moment, he threw his arms around Severus then, wanting to taste the man just one more time, and felt relieved when Severus's arms came around his frame and kissed him back. "I meant what I said, you know," he whispered as he pulled back.
Severus appeared dazed for a moment. "What?" he asked.
Harry grinned, moving back towards the fireplace. "About me coming to love you," he said gently as he tossed the powder into the grate. "I meant every word," he whispered, as the flames came to life, and swallowed him.
. . .
"How'd it go last night?" Harry asked, nudging Ron, who turned red to his ears at Harry's implications as they watched Hermione making tea in the kitchen.
"Fine," Ron squeaked. "It was...fine."
Harry grinned. "Sure it was."
"Kreacher said you had something to do last night, Harry," Hermione said, bustling into the living room with a tea tray, and positioning it onto the coffee table in between the living room couch and hearth. "He didn't mention what it was, and when Ron and I pressed him, he said that you didn't share the information."
"Yeah, and your room was empty when we went to check on you, mate," Ron said, peering over at Harry, who distracted himself by shoving a biscuit in his mouth. "Where did you find yourself this time?"
Harry sighed, brushing the excess biscuit crumbs off of his sweater, which caused Hermione to tut and vanish them with a simple wave of her wand. "Scotland," he said softly.
"Scotland?!" Hermione demanded.
"Where in Scotland, mate?" Ron asked.
Harry rolled this eyes. "The Highlands," he replied, his tone evasive.
Hermione squeaked. "But, Harry, that's where..."
"You were at Hogwarts?" Ron asked, his tone quiet as he searched Harry's face, but Harry refused to look at him. "Why would you be there...?"
"I went to see Severus, all right?" he said, his tone far sharper than he intended.
Hermione sighed, dragging her hands through her bushy mane as she shook her head. "For heaven's sake, Harry," she said. "I doubt he's told you whether or not he's truly on our side yet, considering the secrets he's willing to keep..."
"What do you even see in that git anyway, mate?" Ron demanded.
Harry's green eyes flashed to his friends', and he sighed. "He was loyal to Dumbledore, which means he's loyal to me," he said, his tone thick with emotion. As he sat there, staring at their faces, he muttered, "Accio," and the black velvet-clad sword flew into his hands from Sirius's bedroom upstairs. "If you don't think he's loyal, look at this," Harry said, and thrusted the sword into Hermione's hands.
"Harry, what's—?"
"I don't believe it!" Hermione cried out, cutting Ron off as she pulled back the velvet, and allowed herself to touch the rubies on its hilt. "Harry, do you realize what this means?" she whispered to him, her eyes meeting his.
Harry shrugged. "Severus gave it to me because Dumbledore left it to me in his will," he said with a small shrug. "That, and the Snitch. I guess he thought that I'd see him as loyal by giving it to me, even though it technically doesn't belong to me, even if Dumbledore decreed it to me via his will this summer. I know it belongs to the school, Hermione," he said, his tone firm, although Hermione looked slightly annoyed at Harry's honor. "I know that Dumbledore left it to me for some reason or other, but..."
"Harry, you killed the basilisk with it," Hermione said slowly.
Harry blinked, remembering how the fangs of the beast had sunk into his arm as he had stabbed it, their blood connecting, and how he would have died, had not Fawkes come to his aid. "Yeah, I remember, Hermione," he said, his tone soft.
"What are you getting at, 'Mione?" Ron asked her.
"Remember Tom Riddle's diary in the Chamber of Secrets—you stabbed the diary with the fang of the basilisk, which caused the memory of Tom Riddle to be destroyed, and Dumbledore confirmed that you destroyed the diary, which is a Horcrux, via the fang," Hermione said wildly as she got to her feet and paced around the living room, her trainers soft on the antique carpeting as he mind went a mile a minute.
Ron jumped to his feet then, his eyes just as wild as Hermione's. "That means, since you used the sword to kill the basilisk, the sword is full of the venom, which means that we can use it to destroy the locket and the cup!"
Hermione let out a shout at Ron's words then, dropping the sword onto the ground and running to Ron, whereupon she threw her arms around him and kissed him full on the mouth. "I love you, Ronald Weasley," she whispered, staring into his eyes.
Ron looked both shocked and excited at the declaration. "I love you, too, Hermione Granger," he replied, tickled.
"Oi!" Harry snapped, getting to his feet and retrieving the sword. "Could you hold it in for a few moments, please, so that we can destroy the Horcruxes?"
Hermione colored, dropping her arms from around Ron's neck. "Yeah," she said, her face flaming red in embarrassment.
Ron took out his wand then, squeezing Hermione's hand briefly. "Accio cup, accio locket," he said, his wand pointed at Hermione's bag.
Hermione's bag suddenly came open then, and both the cup and the locket flew out and landed in Ron's outstretched hands. "So, how do we do this, then?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "No idea," he said, stepping forward with the sword in his hands. He took ahold of the hilt carefully as Ron placed the cup onto the floor beside the hearth, and shrugged once more. "Let's just do it," he said, and stabbed the cup with the sword. There was a hiss from somewhere then, and Harry's scar burned immediately, causing his knees to buckle as a waft of ash and smoke emitted from the hole he had made in the cup, a gasping scream following suit. It couldn't have been more than a moment, but as Harry got to his feet, the buzzing sound that always seemed to be coming forth from the cup suddenly silenced, and he raised his eyes to Ron and Hermione.
"Three down," Ron said quietly.
"Four more to go," Hermione continued.
Harry kicked the cup to the side as Ron placed the locket where it had been, and Harry bit his lip, knowing that the locket would have to be open. "Something's in there," he said, hearing the buzzing suddenly becoming frenzied, as he turned to look at Ron and Hermione. "I think something in there could hurt us. No matter what's said or done, know that it's all lies, and we have to kill it."
Hermione nodded. "All right," she whispered.
Ron smiled tightly then. "You've got it, mate," he said.
Harry bit his lip then, and handed the sword to Ron. "I'll open it, and you kill it. Okay?" he asked, knowing that he should give Ron a way out.
Ron tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword. "I got it."
Harry whispered, "Open," in Parseltongue, without even being aware of it, and suddenly, the locket snapped open, a series of frenzied screams and dark gray smoke filling the living room of Grimmauld Place.
Faces of Voldemort filled the smoke, dangling his snake-like tongue at anyone who would care to look at it; Harry was vaguely aware of Hermione, crouched behind the couch, covering her ears as she watched the scene unfold in front of her in horror. The voice of Voldemort filled their ears shortly thereafter, and Harry turned his eyes to Ron, who was fully captivated by it. Harry knew that Ron shouldn't be listening—in fact, none of them should—but he also knew that Ron could believe the words, which fed off of the person's worst fears.
"I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears," the locket declared in Voldemort's voice, and, suddenly, spiders emitted from the locket, causing Ron to draw back in a sudden burst of terror. "All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible... Least beloved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter... Least loved now, by the girl who prefers your friend... Second best, always, eternally overshadowed..."
"Ron, kill it!" Harry screamed, trying to locate Ron's face as the smoke grew thicker with each word Voldemort spoke. "It's lying! Kill it!" Harry's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he saw smoke-clad renderings of himself and Hermione, holding hands, and turned to the real Hermione, who stared, with the same expression.
"We were better without you. Stronger," the fake Harry declared.
"You are nothing. Nothing," the other Hermione said.
"Your mother confessed she would have preferred me as a son," the fake Harry chanted, his tone gloating, towards Ron.
"What woman would want you, compared to Harry Potter? You are nothing. Nothing," the other Hermione sneered.
"She's like my sister!" Harry yelled. "Please, Ron! Kill it!"
"It's lying, Ron!" Hermione screamed, speaking for the first time, which seemed to catch Ron's attention. "It's lying! I would never—!"
The other Hermione and fake Harry then turned towards each other then, green eyes meeting brown, and smiled at one another. It was as if they were the only people in the world as their fingers interlocked into one another's, and they slowly smiled. Then, with some kind of animalistic force, the fake Harry yanked the other Hermione towards him, and they kissed passionately, their mouths opening beneath the other, and leaving nothing to the imagination for the viewer.
Ron let out an inhuman scream then, and held the sword aloft, before he made a run for the locket, and sliced the weapon in mid-air. That same scream that emitted from the cup filled the room again, and all the smoke disappeared him the air, the other Hermione and the fake Harry immediately being swallowed up. Harry slowly got to his feet, and Hermione did the same, all the while removing her hands from her ears as the sword clattered to the ground.
"Ron," Hermione whispered then, her eyes filled with tears as she walked towards him, and let out a gasp as he pulled her into his arms. Their lips met, and Harry bent to pick up the sword so as he wouldn't have to look at them. "Please believe me, Ron, it's just you. It's always been you, and it will always be you."
"Same for me, Hermione," Ron said, leaning down and kissing her again.
Hermione collected the now-destroyed Horcruxes and summoned her bag, and placed them inside before she pulled Ron over to the couch, and Harry perched on the love seat beside it, returning the sword into the black velvet sheath. Hermione squeezed Ron's hand as she pulled The Tales of Beedle the Bard out of her bag, and opened it to the cover page. "Odd," she whispered, and Ron leaned closer to have a look.
"What is it?" Harry asked, getting to his feet and sitting on Hermione's other side. "That's not a rune, is it?" he asked.
Hermione pulled a face. "You of all people should know what is and isn't a rune, Harry," she said, her scolding tone light.
Ron chuckled. "That, History of Magic, and Divination were glorified extra sleeping hours in classes, Hermione," he explained. "You knew that right?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and stared at the symbol. "A triangle, with a circle, and a line drawn through it," she whispered. "That's odd. I don't recognize it, and I usually recognize rune symbols..." She tore another book out of her bag, a rune book, and scoured through it for the next five minutes, before slamming it shut. "Nothing. It's not a rune."
"I recognize it," Harry said, the thought coming to him. "Mr. Lovegood wore the symbol at the wedding," he said softly then, suddenly remembering the piece of silver dangling from Luna's father's neck.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Well, maybe a visit to the Lovegood household is in order, but we'll have to plan accordingly," she said quietly.
"Right," Ron said. "Ever since yesterday, Bill says that Percy and the Ministry's been having a fit about the bust. They're calling Harry the most undesirable."
Harry smirked. "Not so unusual," he muttered.
"Harry, this is serious," Hermione said firmly. "One false move, and they can turn you into the Ministry of Magic for profit, and into the hands of You-Know-Who, now that Thicknesse is in charge of everything..."
At Hermione's words, there was a splintering in the front door of Grimmauld Place, and a sound that was reminiscent of the spell that Umbridge had used to get into the Room of Requirement when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and others had been using it for Dumbledore's Army. The trio darted to their feet, holding their wands out, when an oval-faced wizard with long, white hair pulled back stood in the doorway, along with a few other witches and wizards, and Ron immediately stiffened, gripping onto both of their hands.
"Yaxley," he whispered through his teeth.
"Fuck," Harry whispered as Yaxley grinned at them, and raised his wand.
"No!" Hermione screamed then, shutting her eyes, and the trio Disapparated just as the green bolt of light attempted to intercept them.