Disclaimer:
I'm not J.K. Rowling and the HP universe doesn't belong to me. Damn!

Chapter 6
"Freak"

Harry Potter had been in a vile mood all day. He sat on the windowsill, alternately staring into the darkness outside or snapping at bypassing Gryffindors who had the nerves to ask him if he was alright. And so it happened that the common room was soon empty except for the Trio, despite the fact that it was only nine o' clock. Hermione was going to let Harry get away with his attitude (he had enough on his plate after all) until Harry made a crucial mistake.

He let his aggressions out on a couple of books.

She and Ron had watched quietly as Harry got up from his seat by the window and stormed up into his dorm room. They had watched quietly as he came marching down again, carrying a large book stack that swayed dangerously in front of him. They had watched quietly as he took the first book on top of the pile and flung it into the fire. But Hermione wasn't going to quietly watch him burn the second.

She was by his side the moment he raised his arm to throw the next book into the fireplace. She grabbed his hand, tore the book from his grip and yelled: 'ENOUGH ALREADY!'

Harry glared.

Then he sneered (Hermione felt eerily reminded of Draco Malfoy for a second) and attempted to throw the third book instead.

'HARRY, STOP!'

Hermione managed to rescue book three as well, but Harry seemed absolutely determined to obliterate the pile in his arms. Frantically he flung the books from him one by one - a few hit the intended target, but most of them landed on the floor pathetically, because Hermione was flailing her arms about, managing to hit most of the books from her friend's hands.

'RON!' she cried. 'A little help, please?'

Ron Weasley, who had been gaping at the scene in front of him, snapped out of a reverie and came to Hermione's aid. He managed to wrestle the remaining books from Harry's arms and quickly carried them over to the table farthest away from his raving friend while Hermione used a Banishing Charm to get the books that lay on the floor into a safety zone.

The air around Harry seemed to cackle with his rage as he stood, defeated, by the fire. His fists were clenched by his side as he glowered at his two friends.

'Those are my books!' he snarled through gritted teeth. 'I can do with them whatever I want!'

By now Hermione was sure Harry had lost his marbles.

'Why would you want to burn your books, Harry? What's wrong?' she asked in her most pacifying voice, but Harry didn't answer. Instead he threw himself down on his favorite armchair, crossed his arms and resumed glaring into the flames. Hermione considered this a major improvement and decided not to press the matter, until she heard Ron say:

'But … these are all books on soulmates!'

Severus Snape waved his wand over the foul smelling cauldron in front of him. A second later the bubbling, yellow-that-was-supposed-to-be-blue concoction inside had vanished and the cauldron looked as good as new. With a second flick of his wand the Potions master transferred the shiny cauldron over to the other empty cauldrons that piled up behind his desk, waiting for storage.

'Why, that's another 'D' for you, Mister Longbottom,' Severus murmured and instantly the quill that hovered in mid-air over the open pages of a black leather-bound notebook beside the teacher, scribbled down a tiny D in one of the many columns below.

Severus leaned back in his chair with a resigned sigh and looked out of the window. His thoughts wandered aimlessly until his gaze came to rest on the six golden hoops towering high above the Quidditch pitch, gleaming in the distance. Even though Severus couldn't see the ground from where he sat, he knew that – with the exception of the six golden goalposts - the Quidditch pitch was pretty much unrecognizable at the moment. Twenty-foot high hedges zigzagged all over the field, stretching out into one gigantic, dark maze.

Harry Potter's third task.

Instantly, memories of that one momentous evening last summer, when he had found the future version of Harry Potter sitting in his bathroom, came crashing down on Severus and were, as always, followed by the now familiar heartache. How badly he wanted to see him again! Not the cranky teenager who hated his guts, no, but his husband. The Harry Potter who had told him that he loved him. The Harry Potter who had wanted to … Severus grinned to himself … get kinky with him.

Everything seemed to trigger his memories of that evening. From a harmless Quaffle over the Whomping Willow to a common broomstick - the whole blasted castle was full of Harry Potter reminders.

Not to mention Harry Potter himself, of course.

Severus stayed as clear of the teen's path as possible. Seeing the fourteen year old Harry Potter had become a bit … disturbing. He felt no physical attraction whatsoever for the teenager (which was perfectly normal even for soulmates as Harry wasn't of age yet), but whenever Severus looked at the boy now, he was forcibly reminded of how his wiry, naked body, pinned against the bathroom wall, had felt - would one day feel - writhing against his own. And those mental images didn't help Severus' longing for Harry's future self at all.

Forcing all inappropriate intentions from his mind (thinking of Flubberworms and Filch finally did the trick), Severus pulled the next cauldron towards him for inspection. Draco's potion was shimmering in a perfect shade of blue. The quill was just about to neatly write down an appreciative 'O' for Outstanding, when suddenly a deafening rattle echoed through the room.

The teacher and his floating quill jumped in unison.

Alarmed, Hermione stared the books on the table. 'Why would you want to burn all these?'

'BECAUSE I DON'T NEED THEM, OKAY?' Harry roared.

'You could just donate them to the library,' Ron suggested and Harry snorted contemptuously. 'Fine. Go ahead. I don't care.' He meant it.

Hermione was truly worried now. Hesitantly, she knelt down in front of Harry's chair and put a hand on his knee. 'Please tell me what happened, Harry,' she said softly. 'Why are you so upset?'

'I spoke to Sirius,' Harry said at last, sounding pained. 'About my soulmate.'

'About your ...? Your what?' Ron spluttered.

'What did he say?' Hermione asked.

And Harry told them.

Sirius Black emptied the entire flask of pumpkin juice in one go and burped contentedly. Sorry,' he said.

Harry grinned.

'I had forgotten how good the food at Hogwarts is,' Sirius mumbled, impatiently tearing off the wrapping of his third sandwich. For a while they sat in silence, while Sirius wolfed down the contents of the care package that Harry had brought to the cave that was his godfather's hiding place. Harry was just beginning to worry that he hadn't brought enough food, when Sirius licked his fingers one by one with a resounding smack before announcing: 'Merlin, I'm stuffed!'

Harry sighed in relief.

'So …,' Sirius said conversationally, stuffing wrappings and used napkins into an empty paper bag. 'I've been reading the Daily Prophet.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Oh yeah?'

'Got yourself a girlfriend, haven't you?' Sirius grinned.

'I have NOT!'

'Oh.' Sirius looked disappointed. 'Well, Hermione would definitely be quite a catch if you ask me. Feisty, that one, but ...' He wriggled his head appreciatively.

'Hermione is my FRIEND!' The look of indignation on Harry's face was comical and the older man chuckled. 'Not the worst start where I come from.'

Harry clicked his tongue dismissively.

'Well, are you seeing anyone else then?'

When Harry shifted uncomfortably, Sirius nudged him. 'Hey, I'm your godfather! You're supposed to tell me these things!' he teased.

Harry seemed to contemplate this.

'Sirius …?' he finally asked carefully, scratching his head. 'Do you … uhm … do you believe in soulmates?'

His godfather flinched. 'Soulmates?' the man asked warily. 'Why do you ask?'

Harry blushed. 'I … I don't know. Well … I mean … I think I might have one.'

'What makes you say that?'

'I have these dreams …' Harry answered hesitatingly.

And then it all came pouring out.

'I've always had them, but lately they've become more … intense, in a way. More frequent, too. Well, I don't even know if I can call them dreams, it's hard to explain. It's more like … there's someone there, you know? A presence. I cannot see him, but I know he's there. And I need him to be there. I feel ill when he's not around for too long!'

'In your dreams?'

'Yes! And no! Sometimes I think I can even feel him when I'm awake. No, not feel. Sense him. Like I just know somebody is walking next to me under an Invisible Cloak or something. But whenever I reach out, I can't grasp him. I don't know who he is! All I know is …!' - Harry delivered the last line with all the appropriate dramatization. – 'All I know is that I LOVE him!'

'Him?' Sirius asked quietly.

Harry nodded. 'When I was little, I thought he was an angel. My Angel. But when I asked my aunt and uncle about it, they said angels would never waste their time watching over wicked children like me.' Harry swallowed. 'And so I started to think they were memories instead. Like, of my parents. But … well … they aren't memories!'

Harry blushed fiercely.

'And then Hermione was reading this book about soulmates. I made fun of her, I thought it was all rubbish girly-romance-stuff, but then I read the book, too, and it all sounded … so … familiar. It all made sense somehow.' Harry was talking himself into a frenzy. 'The books say that you won't be able to recognize your soulmate until you're around sixteen, but that you will always sense them, because they are a part of you. And, Sirius, did you know that you can die if you don't find your soulmate by then?' Harry looked scandalized. 'I hope I can find him, Sirius! Or that he finds me! Oh, I hope I will know who he is soon!'

'So you're gay?' Sirius said.

Harry opened his mouth. And closed it again.

'What?' he said uncertainly.

'So you're gay?' Sirius repeated.

The question caught Harry completely off-guard. For as long as he could remember he had referred to the presence in his dreams as a he. He had never thought about what it meant to have a male soulmate. Had never thought about what that made him.

'Would that be bad?' Harry asked quietly.

Sirius didn't answer right away. 'I hadn't thought, that's all,' he said after a moment.

Harry was hurt to hear the disappointment in his godfather's voice. 'You think so, too, then,' he said, his voice hard.

Sirius looked puzzled. 'Think what?'

'That I'm a freak!'

'Harry, I didn't say that!' Sirius sounded sincerely shocked. 'What are you talking about?'

'That's what the Dursleys always say. I'm a freak. Not normal. And maybe they are right,' Harry laughed bitterly. 'Now they can add "gay" to my list of abnormalities, too!'

'You're not abnormal!' Sirius replied urgently. 'And it's okay to be gay. I was surprised, that's all. I didn't mean to upset you, I'm sorry! But listen, Harry! You should forget about this soulmate stuff. It's … it's nonsense anyway, if you ask me. And you really have to concentrate on other things now instead of that git. You have the third task coming up and you should practice your charms and …'

'WHO?' Harry interrupted sharply.

Sirius looked at him, startled. 'I'm sorry?'

'You said I have to concentrate on other things now instead of that git. Who?'

Sirius went chalk white. 'You know, just that … dream … person … thing … of yours!' he stammered.

'Why did you call him a git?'

'Just because!' Sirius waved his arms about, but he didn't meet Harry's eyes.

Harry stared.

'Sirius, do you KNOW who the person in my dreams is?' he croaked. His voice seemed to have climbed an octave or two.

'Of course I don't!' Sirius huffed, but without meeting Harry's eyes. 'How would I know that?'

'SIRIUS!'

'Harry, I'm telling you, I don't …'

But Harry didn't let him finish. 'Sirius!' he gasped. 'If you know something about what my dreams mean, you have to tell me! You are my godfather! If you don't tell me this, then who will? I have a RIGHT to know!'

When Sirius made no attempt to answer, Harry took a desperate measure. 'If you don't tell me … I will get up and leave. I will never ever speak to you again, Sirius, and I mean it,' he said quietly but determined.

Sirius looked as though Harry had hit him.

'Harry, I can not tell you!' he yelled desperately. 'I gave a promise!'

'TO WHOM?' Harry yelled back.

Sirius hid his face in his hands. 'To your father.'

Harry froze. 'My …? DAD KNEW? He knew about my soulmate? And he doesn't want me to know who it is?' he asked disbelievingly. 'So I … have a soulmate?'

Sirius looked up. 'Oh, you do, all right!' he snorted resentfully, his lip curling in disgust. 'But let me tell you one thing! You're better off without him, Harry! He hates you and wants nothing to do with you!'

'He hates me?' Harry whispered numbly.

'Yes, he does!' Sirius replied through gritted teeth. 'Forget about him, Harry, for he will not ever give a damn about you. He's scum, trust me! Stick to the people that care about you instead. Find yourself a nice girl-'

'He hates me?' All color had drained from Harry's face. 'He knows that I exist, he knows that I'm his soulmate and he hates me?'

Sirius nodded.

Harry Potter sat in the middle of the cauldron pile behind Severus' desk, looking disheveled and rather flushed. A broomstick was lying to his feet.

'Oops,' he said.

Severus could have sworn he felt his heart skipping a few beats. This definitely wasn't the same moody teenager that had been sitting in his class only this morning! It was him!

"Future Harry" chuckled sheepishly, got up, straightened his clothes and walked over to where Severus was still sitting at his desk, completely paralyzed. 'I have to work on that one, don't I?' he mused and plopped down on Severus' lap, straddling him like it was the most normal thing in the world. With a start Severus realized that, for Harry, it probably was.

He decided he liked the idea.

'I was playing Quidditch with a couple of third-years, but when I saw the open window up here, I decided they could do without me for a while and you could do with my company!' Harry told him matter-of-factly ('Like you have no idea!' Severus thought) and completely oblivious to the fact that all the windows behind him were closed and that the Quidditch pitch was now a maze and lay deserted. Without further ado he started showering the older man's face with soft, feathery kisses. Severus' head lolled back on its own account and he closed his eyes.

Sweet Merlin!

Once again the future version of Harry Potter seemed utterly unaware of the fact that he had just time-jumped into Hogwarts' past. For a fleeting moment Severus contemplated telling him (the question of who ever made it first through that blasted maze below was definitely burning on his tongue), but when he remembered the boy's breakdown during their previous encounter, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. The teacher felt slightly guilty for taking advantage of the situation like that, but when Harry turned his attention to an apparently over-sensitive patch of skin on Severus' throat that he hadn't even been aware of until the young man in his lap started sucking it gently, he forgot all sense of reason.

What good did it do to distress the boy?

When Harry's tongue flicked out for the first time, the Potions master was unable to suppress a moan.

'I take it this was one of my better ideas,' the Gryffindor whispered smugly. Severus felt him smile against his neck.

'Brat!' he thought.

Harry's mouth left Severus' throat and slowly trailed upwards until they met in a chaste and gentle kiss. And another. And another - until Severus felt Harry's tongue moving across his lips playfully, demanding entrance. Their tongues found each other effortlessly.

Severus' hands slowly loosened their grip on his armrests. Cautiously – and ever so gently – he placed a hand on the small of Harry's back. When no objection followed, he daringly placed his other hand on Harry's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. The young man melted into his embrace. A wave of Harry's emotions – a breathtaking combination of lust, love and boundless trust - washed over Severus and mingled with his own need. Their kisses became more and more anxious, their breathing shallow. It didn't take long and Severus felt himself getting hard - a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Harry. A small sound of approval escaped the Gryffindor's throat and he wriggled on Severus' lap, eliciting a gasp from both men as their arousals met.

And then – as sudden and unexpectedly as he had turned up – Harry was gone.

…

Draco Malfoy's cauldron hit the wall with a reverberating clang as a very irritated, very heated and still very much aroused Severus Snape flung it across the room with all his might.

…

THAT DAMN TEASE!

'Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin …'

The rest of Ludo Bagman's words were drowned out by loud cheers and applause coming from all around the Quidditch pitch.

Harry Potter looked up. The wooden stands looked as though they were about to burst underneath the weight of the crowd. Every seat was taken and everybody was looking down on the four Triwizard champions, cheering them on excitedly. He could see Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Hermione and Ron waving at him and Harry forced a smile and waved back. His eyes traveled over the crowd.

Is he here?

Harry reckoned it was reasonable enough to think that his soulmate was someone at Hogwarts ('Draco hates you quite a bit, you know, it just might be him!' Ron had pointed out helpfully, snorting with laughter. He didn't really take the whole soulmate situation very serious at all.). Harry could count the people he knew outside of school on one hand. And even though they all pretty much hated Harry for breathing, they were less than likely to be his soulmates. Being family and all.

Harry sneered.

Oh, but it figured. His own family hated his guts! It only made sense that his soulmate did, too.

The Dursleys were probably right. He was a freak.

Harry's fists clenched. His fingernails dug into the soft skin of his palms painfully, but he didn't notice. And when he heard the shrill sound of Ludo Bagman's whistle, Harry entered the maze without looking back.

To be continued