Words

"Words define things; make them less that what they are. They give a definition to things that can't be defined. Words are meaningless. Words can be manipulated and perverted. I don't speak."

Harry Potter hadn't spoken a word since he returned to the Wizarding World at age 11. At first he was taken to see the school nurse, Madame Pomfrey. They thought Harry had a medical reason for not speaking. That notion had quickly been dissuaded. Then everyone had just ignored it, thinking that it was just a phase and that when he felt more comfortable he would begin to speak to them. It never happened. They started to try and make him talk, they coaxed, cajoled, pleaded and even threatened but nothing worked. Harry Potter simply refused to speak.

Eventually they just left him be. His 'disability' didn't seem to affect his spell casting abilities, he was the only first year to be able to perform wordless magic, so they ignored it again, if a little more hostile about his silence then they were before. Only Severus Snape had never mentioned his muteness, never attempted to make him speak and for that Harry Potter loved him.

Of course he didn't tell him, despite the fact that he didn't speak. He was positive that the man didn't even care for him; he was but a blip on the man's radar. The fact that he was hailed as The Boy Who Lived and was destined to defeat Voldemort once and for all didn't matter the slightest to the sour Potions Master.

It wasn't that Harry had no way to communicate. He had, from a very young age, been able to join his mind to other people's without thinking. He communicated with images and feelings, not words. He never lied. He didn't deceive. Everything Harry 'said' was heartfelt and honest. However, joining your mind to another's was not a very acceptable practice in polite society so there were very few Harry 'spoke' to. In fact he could count them on one hand, Albus Dumbledore, Neville Longbottom, Severus Snape, Madame Pomfrey and Draco Malfoy. With everyone else he just used sign language, in a way it was speech but Harry had no other option.

The first time he had joined his mind to Dumbledore's the man had been shocked speechless. Professor McGonagall had dragged him up to the headmaster's office for refusing to answer his name in the register.

Harry had just looked the elderly wizard in the eye and Dumbledore had heard Harry's explanation as clearly as if the boy had spoken. It was not verbal by any means; more the feeling of not speaking. When he had asked why he was shown Harry's memory of a lie the Dursley's had told him. Albus understood perfectly. After that the professors were banned from asking him direct questions that required an answer. Many of the students had been resentful of that. Why was he being treated so special? He wouldn't speak, so what? Others copied him; he was, after all famous, and all famous people are mimicked, but they soon gave up. They couldn't keep the silent act up.


Harry was in his seventh year, almost a fully trained adult, now. He was seventeen and considered by the Ministry of age. He was old enough to make his own decisions. His own mistakes.

Harry Potter was going to kill someone. Voldemort had risen the summer of his fourth year, in his fifth year, after the death of his godfather, Dumbledore finally told Harry of the prophecy concerning his birth and subsequent defeat of the Dark Lord. He was destined to become a murderer. Harry didn't want to kill anyone but Voldemort had to be stopped, he was a liar of the worst kind. He had promised to bring Harry's parents back, even if he couldn't sense lies Harry would never have believed him, there was no spell to raise the dead, even he knew that. Voldemort was trying to control him. He refused to be controlled.

Professor Snape had been training him, in secret, for over a year now, preparing him for the fight ahead. He was almost ready.

It had taken Snape some time to see the real Harry. In the end it had taken Harry finally managing to disarm the older wizard by blasting him across the room and afterwards Harry healing the damage with a concerned look on his face for Severus to see that Harry was not James. If he resembled any of his parents then it was Lily, the beautiful Lily Potter nee Evans, who had loved her son so much she had sacrificed her life for him. The only person who ever tried to befriend Severus Snape and who would have succeeded if it hadn't been for the Marauders.

Harry, for he was now Harry, quickly exceeded Severus' expectations for the brat. The professor found himself proud of his student. Harry was incredibly proficient at wandless magic, he had been performing wordless since he was eleven, and was able to pick up a spell after seeing it cast once.

Potions were never Harry's strongest subject but he was more than competent, with Severus' help, and he could brew what he needed and use a variety of potions during a battle.

"There's an attack scheduled for tomorrow night, Harry. Voldemort is planning to kidnap you from your family's home." Snape informed the young man when the NEWT exams were over.

(Am I still going to the Dursley's?) He asked curiously, well he sent a picture of Privet Drive along with a questioning feeling. Harry hated it there, everyone lied, but he knew he had to spend time there because of the blood wards. It was as much for them as for him. He was protected by the wards and so were they.

"It is your choice, Harry. You are ready to face him but we can afford to wait if that is what you want." Severus was the only person who would offer him this option, Harry knew. Albus, as benevolent as he was, knew that the world was dependant upon Harry defeating Voldemort, the sooner the better.

Harry closed his eyes briefly, (It is time this war was over.) He announced.

Harry did indeed end the war. He fulfilled his destiny and killed Lord Voldemort. His muggle family had been killed in the attack. Harry was not really upset; they had never been family to him after all.

Once again, Harry was hailed as a hero. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, tried to get Harry to make a speech, apparently the bumbling idiot thought that Harry would just speak because he had asked him to. (Fool!) Harry had commented to all his closest friends.

Fudge failed to get Harry to do as he wished. Instead the young hero requested, through the headmaster, to be left alone to live as he wished.

Stumbling and stuttering, Fudge reluctantly agreed and handed over the Order of Merlin First Class.

Harry Potter left the podium and made his way over to his now-former Potions Professor. (I had not expected to survive.) The young wizard confessed to his friend/mentor.

The Potions Master shook his head, "I never thought that you wouldn't. The thought of life without your presence is intolerable. I have become accustom to it."

Harry looked into the man's eyes in surprise. That almost sounded like…But surely not. Severus could not harbour the same feelings…could he? There was only one way to find out. Harry joined his mind with Severus'.

The Legimens allowed the intrusion. He welcomed it. He could not say the words aloud, certainly not here, in public.

Harry found what he had secretly hoped for. He apperated them back to an apartment he had rented a few days previously.

As they lay on the bed, panting and sweaty, Harry did what everyone had thought was impossible, he spoke.

The green eyed man said, "I love you."