I will only put one disclaimer in this seven part story you are about to read, so do not expect to find it at the head of every chapter. I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters that come with the franchise. I have simply pulled them off the shelf for a bit of play. Throughout this story there will be sprinklings of dialogue directly from the book, those words are owned by J.K. Rowling and I am borrowing them to aid in the telling of this story.
Song for this chapter: Kingdom Come by The Civil Wars
Severus sat resolutely in in his chair staring out into the growing darkness while Albus paced fretfully behind them. It was unlike them. Severus had always been the one to release his tension through his feet, and Albus had always been a man to sit and ponder. But tonight was not an ordinary night, and tonight neither man could pretend any differently.
Severus swirled the fire whiskey in his glass, no longer amused by the small plume of smoke that was created by the movement. His eyes had taken on a distant stare, and Albus wondered if he even saw the glass in his hand that he was swirling rhythmically. His heart ached to watch the man who was always so reserved show even the tiniest weakness in the tenseness of his jaw and the heavy silence that he allowed to fall between them.
"Severus," Albus spoke into the metaphorical distance that was growing between them.
The man did not answer, but tilted his head up at a slight angle so his eyes met those of the older man, though the distant look did not leave them.
"If you must leave…" he said quietly. "I would, understand."
An unearthly silence fell in the room as the headmaster stopped his pacing and even the gentle swishing of fabric fell away. Albus stared into those deep black eyes, knowing even now that he would not see much in their depth as the man before him occluded every feeling that bubbled up within him. Even with only the sight of black ice to guide him, he knew what the man was seeing now and it was not the headmaster's office. They both knew that what he saw now was the night he had gone down on his knees before Albus and had taken his vow.
The room disappeared before him as Albus remembered that night the two of them had met upon a windy hilltop. A much younger Severus had knelt before him and begged for the life of his dearest friend. It was a night that the fight between the two people had not mattered, and the fact that Severus bore the dark mark did not much matter either. All that had mattered to Albus that night was that Severus had tears in his eyes and it was his feet that he knelt at not those of Tom Riddle.
That had been the night that Severus had ventured to the Hogshead, and with Aberforth as the witness had taken the vow Albus demanded to do whatever it takes to stop the Dark Lord. That had been the night that so many things had begun. That was the night that Severus Snape became the spy that worked for the Order of the Phoenix.
"I cannot," Severus finally spoke, interrupting the silence that had fallen.
There was a gentle clink as he set his glass down on the desk and extended his hand out to Albus. Even in the low light created by the floating candles he could see raised red lines of irritation appearing on his wrist. Severus fought the urge to scratch at them, and Albus fought the urge to take that slender wrist in his hand, and hide the marks with his fingers.
"Even considering the thought of leaving triggers my vow," Severus said solemnly. "I hazard a guess that I would fall dead if I were to step outside of the grounds."
"I would never have sworn you to such a vow if I had known how it would torture you and tie you down," Albus spoke quietly, unable to meet the dark gaze. "I would release you now if I could."
"I would swear it again," Severus answered quietly. "Because it was you that asked it of me."
The words could not fix the situation they now found themselves in, but they were still a balm to the old man's soul. The only bit that could ease his guilt was the knowledge of why Severus had inevitably sworn the vow to him. There had been a piece of the man's soul, that had sworn to vow to protect his dear friend, but the larger piece had sworn it to the man he even know struggled to voice his love for.
There were no words spoken as Albus remembered that moment just before they left that windy hillside. His heartbeat sped up on its own accord as he remembered those moments where the ultimate truth had been spoken between the two of them.
"And what will you give me in return, Severus?" Albus has asked him all those years ago, a part of him hoping that Severus understood what he asked, another part hoping he didn't.
"In… in return," Severus had gasped before a slow understanding dawned on his face. "Anything."
"You would give me anything?" Albus had asked him, reaching out a tentative hand and placing it upon the tightly wound man's shoulder.
There had been a moment where the man had shook, but then Severus had seemed to relax under his hand, and though his eyes still bore his tears, he had looked up into the older man's eyes with a strength that had not been present before.
"What do you want from me," he had asked quietly, his voice holding no real question.
"What could I want from you?" Albus had replied, his hand rising slowly from his shoulder to cup the younger man's neck. "What could I possibly want from the young man that I allowed to take damning prophecy back to his master if only to protect him from a deadly fate?"
Severus had waited to speak, and Albus felt his pulse quicken under his hand, felt his breathing become more labored as the full weight of what he said settled in. He had felt the heat climb into the skin beneath his hand, as the ice melted away from the eyes that looked up at him from where Severus kneeled. He would never forget the gentle shifting of muscles his palm had registered as Severus began to rise.
There had been silence as the moment changed, and yet Albus could remember such noise as his mind and heart raced at the realization that not only would Severus give him what he asked, but the man seemed to be aroused by the prospect. Both of their worlds had shifted as Albus moved his hand to instead cup the jaw of the man that would become his spy, and Severus willingly followed the gesture that brought his lips in contact with those of Albus.
Pulling his mind back to the present, Albus imagined that he felt a tingle upon his lips at the mere memory of the heated kiss they had shared before Severus had sworn his vow. That night truly had been the beginning of many things.
"You are better than you know," Albus whispered quietly, as he took the irritated hand into his own, and placed his lips gently against the irritated skin. "I love you more than you can know."
"Albus," Severus groaned, his entire body trembling as a fire ignited within him. "You know who my heart belongs too."
Severus tried to forget that tomorrow brought the boy he so wished never to meet to his doorstep, and Albus tried not to hurt that Severus still could not say the words he wished to hear as the two of them retired to the headmaster's chambers. Only the half empty fire whiskey glass remained in the office as evidence that anyone other than the headmaster had been present tonight. Only the portraits would ever know of the relationship between Severus and Albus, and they were sworn never to reveal the secrets that they learned from the housing of their frames.
Severus was angry, terribly angry to be frank, and Albus was facing the brunt of it. He knew that the anger stemmed from the pain Severus was enduring at the moment, but his anger still stung a bit. Albus worked carefully to stem the blood flow to the wound on the younger man's calf while he was raged at.
"The defenses we have put in place are idiocy Albus," he snapped waspishly as suppressed a flinch when Albus touched his wounded leg. "The only formidable barrier is that damned Cerberus, and it is only a matter of time before Quirrell figures out how to get past it."
"I think you are underestimating the menace of a three headed dog," Albus offered lightly, holding firm to his doddering old man person in the face of his lover's rage. "If Fluffy was able to stop you, I am quite certain he will stop Quirinus."
"You are underestimating the lengths a man will go to in order to please his master," Severus hissed through his teeth as I attempted to cauterize the still bleeding vessels in an effort to clear the field of blood. "When his only other choice it to play host to the Dark Lord, he will not fail to find a way past the dog. And then where are we? The other defenses will fall in a manner of minutes."
"Do you think even your defense to be so weak?" the old man asked carefully.
"Obviously," he sneered. "If you had allowed me to fill all of the bottles with poison we could be certain that no one would reach the stone."
"Nicholas was firm on his point that no one should be murdered to protect his scientific discovery," Albus said carefully. "My allowing Fluffy as a guard pushes the boundaries of the agreement he and I made."
"Perhaps he is losing his clarity in his old age," Severus said none too kindly, before wincing and pulling his leg away from Albus. "It's poisoned you imbecile that is why you cannot stop the blood flow."
"Severus," Albus chided, stepping back and allowing distance to come between them in the face of his partner's vitriol.
Severus opened his mouth, with a resigned look on his face, but Albus did not get the chance to hear his apology. A knock sounded at the door, and both wizards felt the ripple in the wards that acknowledged the presence of the school caretaker.
"I shall leave you to Filch then," Albus sighed. "I must speak to Minerva about her point allotment in relation to the troll incident anyway."
"They should have lost far more points if you ask me," Severus grumbled before his face softened once more. "Do you wish me to come to you tonight?"
"Always Severus," Albus answered softly before slipping through a secret exit that would let him out in a corridor that was not inhabited by Argus Filch.
One late November night found the two men seated in the headmaster's office once more. The castle had gone to sleep, and it seemed that they alone remained awake as they shared a night cap and caught up on everything that had not been able to share with one another as they had been forced to spend a week apart due to their precarious arrangement of secrecy. Their actions had returned to normalcy and Albus could be found seated calmly at his desk while Severus paced in agitation near the window.
"Quirrell has developed a bit of an obsession with the boy," Severus noted before stopping to take a sip from the tumble of whiskey he left seated on the windowsill. "Potter has not noticed, but I have caught the bastard following the boy through halls twice now."
"Were you not also following the boy?" Albus asked carefully, his eyes peering over his own glass with a knowing look.
"I am worried about his safety, and as you well know I am compelled to assure that he remains safe," Severus answered tersely. "Quirrell had no such compunction. He may wish to use the boy in some plot to resurrect the Dark Lord."
"Do you think it's possible that you are being paranoid?" Albus asked before taking a slow pull on his own drink. "I do not disagree that Quirinus is walking a dark path, but I have not noticed any preoccupation with Harry."
"Albus you infuriate me," Severus said though his voice did not sound particularly angry. "Finish your drink, and perhaps we can take this argument to the bedroom."
Albus could not help but smile as he tipped back the last of his drink. It was rare that Severus was in a playful mood, and even rarer that he would instigate a moment of intimacy after Albus had so pointedly disagreed with him on a point. The past few months had seen a bit of a dry spell in their affections as Severus attempted to cope with the arrival of the boy reared by both his nemesis and his dearest friend. It promised to be a good night.
It was less than a week later when the argument was revisited, this time in the potion master's chamber, over tea instead of whiskey, and with much louder voices though the silencing charms would keep anyone from overhearing. Both men were pacing this time, and the tension in the room was clear.
"I told you he was plotting something against the boy!" Severus shouted.
"You did no such thing," Albus said icily, his voice bordering on the thunderous yelling he sought to restrain. "You hinted that you suspect it, after regaling me with an hour of paranoid theories. What was I supposed to do, pull the boy off the quidditch team because you thought Quirinus was following him in the hallway?"
"You could have at least listened to my suspicions with an ounce of belief," Severus thundered slamming his hand down on the table and nearly overturning the tea service. "Instead of leaving it up to the chance that I might know an ancient counter-curse that would keep the annoying little ponce on his broom long enough to get out of the air."
"Severus Tobias Snape," Albus growled, his anger final boiling over the top of the pit he attempted to bury it in. "I will tolerate many things, but the insinuation that I intentionally put a child in danger is going to far."
Old wounds were being torn open on either side of the argument. A deep tear in the heart of Albus was opening at the thought of the death of a child staining his soul once more, and while he looked at Severus, it was Ariana that he saw now. And Severus in his anger had stopped seeing his lover as he was now, but instead saw him as he was the last time he had failed to save someone he cared for. Not that Severus would ever admit to caring about Harry Bloody Potter.
Albus was looking off into the distance seeing an old fight. He did not see the flecks of tea that had been spilt upon the table; instead he saw a dark living room, frozen by the enormity of what had just taken place. Years later, he could still taste the falling plaster on his tongue, feel the heat of the explosion that had happened upon his flesh. No matter how much time passed, when his thoughts turned that way, he could still feel the weight in his chest and his heart constricted painfully at the question of who had caused it. Had he been the one to kill dear Ariana?
At times like these, it fell to Severus to bring him around, to comfort him and bring him back to the present. But tonight he was wandering in the past as well. He saw the headmaster's office in place of the chambers he now stood in. He could feel the tightness in his throat that he had felt when his tears had fallen a decade ago.
"I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…" he had moaned pitifully, lying in a heap in the arm chair before the desk.
"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," Albus had told him softly. "Rather like you Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"
Even now Severus could remember the way his breathing had grown shallow to the point of nearly stopping. For a moment he had thought the headmaster had been speaking of himself as someone not to have their trust placed in, and then an angry flare of residual dark magic his forearm had burned where his dark mark should have been visible at the mention of his master's name. Like his master, the mark had made a sudden disappearance that evening.
"Her boy survives," Albus had said, drawing him back out of his mind, though it caused him to flinch. "Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes I am sure."
Severus knew that his love had been emotionally manipulating him in an effort to bring him out of the deep depression he was rapidly slipping in to, but that did not stave of the raged that tried to battle with the horrible ache that had taken up residence in his chest.
"DON'T!" he had bellowed. "Gone… dead…"
There had been a silence between the two of them for a moment as Albus searched for the right words. Severus knew there were no right words, and found that he didn't even care. He couldn't find it in him to care about much in that moment when he realized that the one person who had ever accepted him, had continued to love him even when she knew of his preferences, was gone. Tonight it didn't matter that their relationship had fallen apart with one stupid word. Tonight all that mattered was that he was alone again.
"I wish… I wish I were dead…" he had whimpered into the back of the chair, and even ten years later he could still remember the way his tears had drenched the old upholstery and brought out the dusty smell that revealed how little time the house elves spent in the headmaster's office.
"Severus," Albus had moaned, his own pain becoming apparent as he dropped to his knees and turned Severus so he was facing him. "I could tell you that the Dark Lord will be returning and that is why you are still needed. While that is true it would be a lie. If you were to die… Severus you cannot do that to me."
And like all of those years ago, he turned his eyes on Albus once more. He looked at the old man, who seemed to broken, and his heart reached out to him once more. He let go of his anger and his panic. He let go of everything but the love he felt for that man, and he reached out and tangled his fingers into Albus's hair as he had then and leaned in to claim his lips, grateful that there were no tears to spill over this time.
"I'm sorry," Albus whispered against his lips before he kissed him back.
"As am I," Severus said quietly as he tugged softly to bring Albus to his feet and pulled him into an embrace. "I know you would never willingly harm a child. I know that."
"I am so tired," Albus sighed into the basin of Severus's clavicle. "Let us go to bed. Please."
"Of course," Severus agreed easily, and they both walked out of the sitting room, attempting to leave their demons behind.
"Albus, how long have you had this?" Severus asked, looking at the bundle of fabric the headmaster was holding.
"About eleven years now I suppose," he answered with an air of forced calmness. "I was thinking perhaps I should give it away."
"I cannot believe you have held on to it for this long," Severus growled, any holiday cheer that had been in the air burning away in the face of his spiking temper. "You promised me that you were done with that."
"I am Severus," Albus answered earnestly. "That is why I have decided to give the cloak to the boy."
"You've only just decided to give it to him," Severus roared, jumping to his feet, and upsetting the books that had been on the edge of the desk near his hip. "So for years that bloody cloak has been hidden away in your closet while you have promised me again and again that you are done with the deathly hallows."
"I couldn't very well ship the thing off to a boy who did not even know he was a wizard," Albus answered, frost climbing into his own voice as his feathers ruffled with his lover's anger. "I do not appreciate the suggestion that I have been dishonest with you."
"I have held you in my heart for ten years now, and all I have asked of you is that you not give in to the siren song of those trinkets," Severus spoke slowly, attempting to reign in the anger that was burning in his chest. "Might you understand how… frustrating it would be for me to discover that you have been in possession of two of the three, for at least a decade, without even mentioning it to me."
"What do you want me to say Severus?" Albus asked quietly. "I haven't thought about the cloak in years. I only remembered having it because of Harry, and I thought he should have it. The cloak was his father's after all."
Severus paced back and forth before the desk, and Albus could see the lines of tension slowly ease out of him as the man let go of the anger he was feeling. Albus felt a deep sadness as he thought about just how often the two of them were fighting over things this year. It seemed every fight wound its way back to Harry Potter in the end, and despite the caring educator persona he was known for, he found he wished the boy were not attending his school if it were going to hurt his lover so. He wanted to know if it were even possible for Severus to be happy while the child that represented so many past pains and humiliations to him was present under the same roof as him.
"You do realize that you are practically asking the boy to sneak around the castle unattended at night by giving that too him do you not?" Severus said with a mix of humor and exasperation.
"Young boys need a bit of adventure," Albus said with a light smile at the return of a much less agitated Severus. "Particularly those who are sorted into Gryffindor."
"Well let's hope the little lion's misadventures do not get one of us killed," Severus sighed, slipping back into his chair.
Albus wondered if the man even noticed that he was rubbing his wrist in a self-soothing gesture. It was curious that the oath Severus had sworn to him all those years ago was proving to be so closely linked to the fate of Harry Potter. Even curiouser still when the prophecy was taken in to account. Albus stifled a sigh when he thought of eventually having to Severus that the boy would end up dying anyway. He felt rather certain that the reason the oath was driving Severus to keep the boy alive was because he needed to die at the proper moment. Albus stopped that train of thought in its tracks when he felt the familiar tightness in his chest growing. It wouldn't do to grieve something that had yet to come, particularly if he hoped to keep it remotely secret.
"Do you think I should sign the card?" he asked quietly while Severus scratched Fawkes's neck.
"No," Severus said with a smirk. "Give him a mystery to occupy his mind and perhaps he will be too busy with that to cause much trouble."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" Albus asked as he stepped up behind Severus inadvertently dispelling whatever image the other man saw.
"I see you and me holding hands," he said quietly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips when Albus slid his hand into his own. "We are at a dinner of some sort, celebrating the true end to the Dark Lord."
An unspoken tension crept into the room at the implication of such a public display of affection, no matter the reason. Severus waited quietly to see if his lover would let it pass, or if he would question what had been seen.
"Are you pained terribly by my desire for privacy?" he asked Severus after a long time.
"No," Severus assured him. "I know you do not keep me secret because you are ashamed of me. You were hurt by Gellert. I understand that."
"I do not think you a secret," Albus whispered softly as he pressed his forehead in between the dark man's shoulder blades.
"And what do you see?" Severus asked as he carefully slide to the side so he would not cause Albus to stumble from his change in position.
The older man stared into the mirror for a long time, and Severus stood to the side watching his face change subtly as he gazed upon the image presented to him. He watched as a crease developed between his brows, and his eyes tightened with pain. Severus wondered what he saw that could both exist as his heart's desire and as something that caused him pain, but did not ask. He waited patiently for Albus to find the words for what it was.
"What I see is an impossibility," he spoke finally, his voice gravelly with pain. "It would be a truly magnificent moment if it was to happen, but it cannot."
"What is it?" Severus asked, his curiosity overriding his ability to wait patiently for the answer.
"Ariana giving me her blessing to ask for your hand in a more formal manner," Albus answered stiffly before he spun away from the mirror.
Severus jolted at the movement, but then focused his mind and realized he could hear light footsteps in the hallway. He acted quickly, amused that his lover made the same choice, and cast a disillusionment charm upon himself.
"Ah, that will be Harry returning again, perhaps you should avoid such a scene," Albus whispered softly, the stiffness gone from his voice.
Severus followed the instruction to a point. When the door swing open to admit the boy who must have been sheathed beneath his invisibility cloak, Severus slipped out through the door that had been left open. Once he was in the hallway he stopped to listen, a habit of spying born in the end of the war that had yet to die off in him. He listened to the boy discovering the purpose of the mirror and was just thinking of leaving to be saved the torment of the inner workings of Lily's child's mind when the child asked such a personal question that Severus could not help but wait to hear how Albus would answer.
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" little Harry had asked in such an innocent voice that Severus knew he didn't realize how personal the question was.
There was a pause, and Severus would have paid to see his lover's face as he sought an answer appropriate to share with Harry. Of course he might not have wanted to see his face as he tried not to think about what he had seen just moments earlier. His face could not have been pleasant while thinking of the discovery that his heart's desire was to marry a man he would never marry for that would reveal their secret.
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick woolen socks." Albus answered in a serene voice, and it warmed Severus's heart to think of the socks that rested on the man's feet right this moment which had been created with special magic to keep him warm and fill him with the loving feelings that Severus had felt while committing the terribly out of character act of knitting them.
Severus no longer felt the need to spy. It was nestled deep within a misguided bit of dialogue that the boy would never understand, but just now Albus had publicly admitted his love for Severus. Perhaps they would never marry, or never so much as hold hands while in the company of others, but they still had their love. It was a love that they shared in whatever way that they could, and for Severus it was enough.
Severus and Albus came dangerously close to revealing more of their relationship than they wished to during an argument in a rather public corridor that quickly slipped away from them. It had started innocently enough. Severus had caught Albus and Rolanda leaving the great hall at the same time and had decided to act upon an idea he'd been incubating for several days.
He had been trying to casually suggest that he referee the upcoming quidditch match between, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. He made the mistake of citing her previous tenure as a student in the house of Hufflepuff as his reasoning. It had been an effort to not reveal his true motivation, but he had not realized what anger he would trigger.
"Do you think after all these years of teaching our students to fly, and refereeing the Quidditch matches I have suddenly developed an incredible bias?" she shouted at him, and students who were leaving breakfast lingered to watch the fight unfold.
"I did not mean that you are biased, only that is might be a relief not to be faced with a match of such importance for your house," Severus said, dropping his voice into a velvet tone meant to soothe her anger away. "It has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of taking any part in a Quidditch match here at the school after all."
"Well, then I am sure you wouldn't mind me teaching a few of your potions classes," she snapped, her face growing red with an anger that was growing rather than subsiding. "You'll be wanting my job full time next!"
"Now Rolanda I don't think that is Severus's intention at all," Albus said cautiously before turning his eyes on the lingering students and allowing a bit of sternness to climb into his voice. "I believe that all of you have lessons to attend and should be getting on your way."
The students quickly dispersed, but that did not dispel the anger in Rolanda, or the argument that was brewing. Severus raced for another reason that he could give that would not give away why he wanted to be in the air while Harry was, but he could not find one. He decided that perhaps a partial truth was needed.
"I am concerned about what happened the last time Mr. Potter took the pitch," he said finally. "I wish to be in the air in order to prevent a repeat performance."
"Severus," Albus warned, and the rest of the sentence telling him to remain mum about his suspicion in relation to Quirrell was not needed.
"So now you think I cannot protect the students?" Rolanda said, her temper flaring higher and causing Severus to wonder why her hair wasn't red.
"Albus, could you please talk some sense into this woman?" it had slipped from his mouth so quickly that Severus did not realize the implications of his words until he had already said them.
Rolanda's eyes went wide as she looked between the two men, and he didn't need to be a legillimens to see that she was questioning the relationship between them. She was wondering why Severus would feel that he had higher footing than she. Severus raced for an answer and in a burst of inspiration he scratched pointedly at his left arm, until he saw her notice it and then he stopped. He watch her mind ticking, and seconds later he saw it click into place when she remembered the rumors that he was a spy for Albus. Her skin lightened slightly as she accepted that as the reason for the different footing in their relationship with the headmaster, and to his great fortune it worked as a reason for why he might want to be in the air.
He found he liked Rolanda a bit more for her willingness to accept that she simply didn't know his reasoning, but he knew that her acceptance of the plan had more to do with her faith in the headmaster and not in Severus. The argument bled out quickly, and a short conversation insured that Severus would be in the air to protect Harry against a second attempt on his life without Rolanda any the wiser as to why such an action was needed. And luck was with them that their relationship had not been revealed incidentally to another staff member. Frankly Severus was certain he would take quite the verbal lashing for that at a later date, and he felt that he deserved it for such an idiotic slip of the tongue.
Severus found himself wishing he had never gotten into such an argument with Rolanda when the day of the Quidditch match in question finally arrived, and Severus had woken far too early, forced to dash from the comfort of Albus's thick down comforter when he was overtaken by the violent urge to retch. Albus had joined him the bathroom sometime later, calmly rubbing his lower back and pulling his hair into a loose chignon while Severus continued to be ill.
"You should stay in bed today," Albus said told him gently, hours later when the sun was fully up and Severus appeared to be done retching for the moment.
"I can't," he sighed, sinking tiredly onto the foot of the bed and contemplating his feet rather pointedly. "Not after such a ridiculous argument with Rolanda. No, I will have to fly in the match, with Merlin's blessing may it be a short one."
"If you insist, oh so stubborn love of mine," Albus said with a small smile. "Why don't you take a shower and I will see to a bit ginger tea for you."
Severus nodded, finding he was unable to voice his thanks as he was hit with another wave of nausea, and returned to his position at the foot of the Harrington. He hoped a shower would help, if only to wash away the clammy sweat that had appeared all over his body. He was rather certain that he was running a fever, and felt like a right git for getting himself into such a predicament.
An hour later he found himself on the pitch, dressed in his usual black robes that did nothing to keep him warm as the fever began to really take hold, and certainly didn't help hide how pallid his skin was looking as he kept from vomiting by sheer will power. He observed the two teams entering the pitch and wondered if the sight of some of his most troublesome students armed with bats was the reason his stomach attempted yet again to oust the small bit of tea he had consumed at Albus's behest.
Nearly all thought left his mind as he mounted his broom and joined the players in the air. Flying had been an absolutely miserable idea he decided the second his feet left the ground. His stomach was roiling, and trying to watch the game closely enough to actually referee was damn near impossible. It became even more challenging when George Weasley decided to be a right arse and nearly knock
Severus off his broom with a Bludger. He managed to keep his seat, but his tea was revisited upon him in his mouth, and his responding anger allowed him to feel no shame in awarding Hufflepuff a penalty to punish the red headed miscreant.
His stomach has just settled to a dull roar, when Harry Potter went roaring by, only missing him by inches because Severus had swung his broom around quickly enough to pull himself out of the way. Thank God the boy had caught the damn snitch, because that was the last Severus's stomach could take. He felt his mouth filling with the telltale saliva that preceded a bout of sickness as he streaked towards the ground. He barely spared any attention for Albus as he tended to Harry Potter, pausing only to spit upon the ground before he stormed off the pitch.
He would brood over his house falling out of the lead for the house cup once more later, for now he had an urgent appointment with the porcelain goddess. Once out of sight of the celebrating student body he dashed off to his chambers that would put him in proximity to both a loo and his first aid supplies. Clearly this little stomach bug wasn't going to pass as quickly as he had hoped, and he was going to be reduced to actually taking something for it if he didn't want to vomit up a lung.
"Severus, do you want me to fetch Poppy?" Albus called from the sitting room.
"No," Severus rasped from his position slumped against the bathroom sink. "It's just a silly bug. Could you grab the white box in my bedside table for me?"
It was only a minute later that the older man appeared in the bathroom beside him with the box in hand. He clearly looked curious as to what was in the box, but he did not ask. He simply handed it over and waited to see what the contents would be. He was quite surprised when Severus threw back the lid and revealed a collection of what appeared to be muggle medicines. He watched the man take out a bottle full of vibrant pink viscous liquid, and tip back a swig of it before returning the bottle to its box.
"What is that?" he asked Severus curiously.
"It is a muggle medication for gastrointestinal diseases," Severus explained as he closed the box and set it to the side before leaning his head back against the sink once more. "I have yet to find a successful way to brew a potion that works better than that nasty pink concoction."
"Well sometimes it is our muggle counterparts who find the right answer," Albus said with a smile as he offered Severus his hand. "Now why don't we get you back in to bed while there is a pause in the more demonstrative bit of illness."
There was a blissful stretch of quiet that stretched from the mostly uneventful Quidditch match that Severus had overseen up until just before the end of term exams. There were tiny blips whenever Severus had a particularly disconcerting run in with Quirrell, but there was nothing that caused him great concern. No additional attempts had been made to steal the stone. No attempts had been made on the boy's life. Severus was so comfortable in his stolen moments with Albus that remained uninterrupted by the outside world, that he almost forgot that Lily Potter's child was now haunting the halls alongside him.
That almost playful ignorance was blown out of the water on the night that Hagrid chose to take the students into the Forbidden forest for a detention. Yes the students had been smuggling a dragon about, but was taking them into the forest when some evil was preying upon the unicorn population a fitting punishment? Surely it wasn't considered even remotely intelligent as a choice when it was so easy to discern that I had been the Dark Lord possessing Quirrell in the forest, drinking unicorn blood.
Severus had woken from a dead sleep, his wrist flaring in pain at what he later learned was the exact moment the cloaked figure had begun to make a move on Harry Potter. He had rushed up to Albus's chambers in confusion, not understanding why the path that had been created with the light of his unbreakable bow, was burning and turning red once more on his wrist.
"Albus," he said in a rush as he woken the man from his bed. "I think the boy is in danger."
"What?" Albus asked, reaching out to trace his fingers over the once again raised lines.
They faded so quickly that the cause seemed to be the touch of his lover. Whatever danger there had been seemed to have passed, but the anxiety of such an awakening remained. Severus had not realized that by making his vow that his fate would be so closely tied to the safety of Harry Potter. Clearly he was going to be drawn into ever damnable scheme the boy ventured in to, in order to save the boy's life and inevitably his own.
That theory was proven just before the end of the year, when Severus was brewing to fill a deficiency in the hospital wing, and to pass a bit of time while Albus was called away to the ministry. He dropped a freshly stoppered vial of pepper up potion, causing it to shatter into pieces on the floor, as an immense pain flared in his wrist.
He immediately began to walk the corridors when he realized that Harry Potter was up to something that was putting his life at risk again. When the itch grew steadily stronger the longer he went without finding him, and to his bewilderment when he made an offhand decision to give up the search and return to his chambers the red raised lines began to turn black and the itch turned to pain that was far more nagging than the minor swell that had grabbed his attention.
He watched in horror as the blackness seemed to spread from the bracelet of overlapping lines on his wrist up his forearm. It stopped him in his tracks and he began to back track in the other direction. He hadn't been able to find the boy on the first try, but he certainly wasn't going to die for it. He would find him.
He was saved the trouble of bothering when Albus came blustering in to the castle and tore past him and went straight to the entrance to the third floor corridor. Severus stayed long enough to glimpse Hermione Granger giving a rushed explanation while clutching a half conscious Ronald Weasley before he made his retreat back to the dungeons. He watched the skin of his wrist rather than where his feet were carrying him, and he found that with each second the lines grew less visible until his skin was plain pale white once more. He pushed his distress over it all away and set to work brewing the tea he was certain Albus would want after sorting out whatever had happened tonight at the school.
Had Severus had any idea what would transpire down in that obstacle filled chamber, he would have done something other than prepare tea. When Albus appeared in the sitting room of his chambers, Severus could visibly see the last vestiges of his headmaster persona slipping away. He could see how the man who had swept in to save the day, and then had calmly put all the pieces together so that the students felt safe, and the stone was taken care of, simply vanished into the ether leaving in its place a man who was hurting.
Albus shook gently as he lowered himself into his knees and lay his head in Severus's lap. Severus stayed quiet, waiting for him to tell him what had happened when he was ready, and gently ran his fingers through the tangled white hair that was splayed across his lap. He felt the tears soaking through the fabric of his robes before he heard the gentle cries of the man that was clutching his knees, and he could remain silent no longer.
"What has happened Albus?" he asked, his concern apparent in his baritone voice.
"Quirinus is dead, at the hand of Harry Potter," Albus cried into Severus's lap. "Though I pray Harry does not put the facts together and simply assumes the man was killed by the possession subjected upon him by Tom Riddle."
Severus remained quiet. What words were there for such a situation? It was not as if Severus could tell him that it would be alright, and he certainly didn't want to say something that would come off sound like an 'I told you so.' So he waited for Albus to give him a better idea of what he needed in a moment like this.
"I should have listened to you and taken more precautions with Quirinus and the boy," Albus moan, fisting black robes in his hands. "I have allowed an eleven year old to mar his soul with a death, and for what? My own pride?"
"His soul will remain unmarred," Severus spoke softly, shifting them both gently so he sat on the floor and held Albus tightly to him. "Intent is the most important piece in soul magic, and Harry Potter was defending himself and others."
"Perhaps you are right," Albus breathed shakily, tucking his head into his lover's neck in a surprisingly childlike gesture. "But I have been such a fool."
"Haven't we all played the fool at some point in our life?" Severus said with a pointedly light voice, forcing out a laugh though he did not feel cheerful. "You are after all speaking to the man who brought about the murder of his only friend in the world."
"Oh Severus, we are quite the pair are we not," Albus gave a shaky laugh, more tears spilling out onto the skin of the dark man's neck.
"Yes, yes we are," Severus sighed, before he buried his nose in the white hair before him and simply rocked the two of them back and forth.
It would be a long night, but soon the morning would come, and with it a few months of freedom. It would all be over soon. Well, until next year. It wouldn't be truly over until the Dark Lord had made his return and subsequently been truly defeated. Then they could finally have peace.
Severus held his back stiffly and forced a smile on his face as he offered Minerva a handshake of congratulations. At the end of the day he cared very little about house points, but he was struggling to control his reaction to the travesty that had just taken place. His house was disliked by all, and cast away as if the lot of them were Death Eaters on a regular basis. They were never really allowed to feel as if anyone liked them, let alone care about them.
He was waging a constant battle to prove to them that they still matter, and that if they just kept their chin up and worked hard they would get what they deserved. In one rather idiotic move of favoritism Albus had just annihilated several years of work. From his position at the head table he could see the dark looks of his seventh years as they realized that their last chance at securing a bit of honor for their house had been stolen right out from under their noses, and he could see the return of hatred in several pairs of eyes.
So much effort, lost, and for what? Did the golden boy really need to be given the house cup? No, Albus was trying to assuage his own guilt for what had happened down in that chamber, and in doing so he had far more people than had been hurting before. Next year would be like starting from square one for Severus, and he knew that such a public blow to the ego would make it impossible for him to reconnect with some of his more sensitive students.
He kept the smooth façade on his face until he had exited the great hall amongst the crowd. He did not let it slip from his face as he stood within the Slytherin common room and explain without emotion that the loss of the house cup was not a comment on their worth. It stayed there as he refrained from allowing his feelings to cross his face when he saw how many of the students did not believe what he said. His face was like stone until he picked his way slowly up to the headmaster's office to speak to the white haired man who sat at his desk with a soft smile on his face.
"You've done a great injustice tonight Albus," he said as he slid into the chair in front of the desk and finally allowed his frustration to show on his face.
"They boy deserved a little joy Severus," Albus sighed without meeting his eyes as he began to pour them both a bit of tea.
"And what did the many boys and girls of my house deserve?" Severus asked in an icy tone. "Could you not have even given me a bit of warning so I could prepare them? Perhaps helped them to avoid a bit of the embarrassment they were subjected to tonight."
"My actions had no relation to Slytherin, it was not a comment on them," Albus said as he offered Severus his cup.
"No it wasn't, but they won't see it that way," Severus sighed as he took the cup. "It has been nearly impossible to convince them that their teachers do not in fact hate them, and they will take tonight as confirmation that I was wrong and they were right."
"I'm sorry Severus," Albus said, the weight of the issue finally seeming to dawn on him.
"It is not to me that you owe an apology old man," Severus quipped before taking a sip of tea and resolving to let go of his anger. "We shall try again next year I suppose."
"Yes we shall," Albus agreed taking a sip of his own. "Here's to hoping it goes a bit more smoothly than this one did."
"Well, I believe hiring a defense teacher that is not possessed by the Dark Lord would be a good start," Severus suggested.
"Ah yes, well I certainly hope someone other than Gilderoy Lockhart applies," Albus groaned before pulling the lemon off of his tea cup and biting into it.
"I shall of course be applying for it once more," Severus offered lightly. "So you do have options."
"You know I cannot allow you to take the position when it is cursed," Albus said in a tight voice. "You would not put me in the position to be burying you this time next year would you?"
"Never," Severus swore, and the fact that he could not tell the future did not matter, Albus was still rather certain that he would never be faced with burying Severus if only by sheer will power.
And just like that summer came, and all of their troubles, their illnesses, their petty fights, were forgotten. They packed their duffels and in what had become a tradition for them long ago they boarded a muggle plane and flew off to a remote island where the sun was always bright and the water was always warm. It was the first place they had gone when that turbulent and trying first year of their relationship, and Severus's tenor at Hogwarts had ended.
It was on those beaches where they had finally found a bit of peace and had begun to let go of old pains. They returned to the island every year to mark an anniversary, but also to reaffirm the love between them and to let go of the many hurts that always seemed to find a way into their hearts. As had also become a tradition they spent the first day on the island in bed, simply refusing to relinquish the feeling of skin against skin as they held one another. It was almost religious the way they would worship one another and let go of everything else in the world.
It was only after that first day that they ever ventured out into the ocean waters, or into the small rainforest that ran through the center of the island. They were never left wanting for something to occupy their time. This year like every year before they grew steadily more relaxed as the two weeks stretch on and by the time it was required that they take their flight back to the real world there was nothing left between them. There were no hesitations with terms of endearment. There was no overarching hunger for physical contact. There was no pain. There was just Albus and Severus, in love, and ready to face their lives where they were forced to hide their relationship once more.
Severus firmly believe that there was no more magical place than that small tropical island, except for perhaps within Albus. Albus himself wasn't sure what he believed of magic anymore; the only thing he was absolutely sure about anymore was his lover.