Chapter 11
Bond
Everything was prepared as precisely as possible considering they had to work in a hurry. The timing was not ideal, the arithmancy calculations were incorrect and the moon was not the most propitious.
Severus rested, now under the influence of a strong dreamless sleep potion. Harry remained heartbroken, but focused on the task at hand.
Ron had exhausted every reasonable step, in his attempts to find out who had committed the atrocity in Severus's room. The matter was complicated when he had to consider two possibilities: either someone extremely powerful invaded the mansion, or someone in whom they had implicit trust had gotten around the wards while Harry and Hermione were there. Ron, however, did not give voice to this theory because Harry needed a clear head at the moment. Severus was his priority now and the search for the intruder could wait.
His friend needed all of his concentration and strength for the older Slytherin and this last shot at saving him. There was no time left to delay or make senseless mistakes. Ron kept the faith that, when all was said and done, the happiness that his friend deserved would be their reward.
(***)
Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his hand firmly wrapped around Severus' long fingers. The look on the young man's face dared anyone to doubt his determination. He would save this man; the man he loved and wanted a future with, the one he intended to share the rest of his life with. No one would stand in the way of him achieving those goals.
The Gryffindor swore quietly to himself. As soon as he finished the ritual and settled Severus into their new life, he would hunt down whoever had dared to invade the peace and security of the home where he and Severus first began to share their lives. He hated the unknown person even more than he had hated Voldemort. He had been through so much already, to finally have the man he loved in his arms, with a glimpse of how wonderful a life together could be in that house...that room. But now everything was tainted, stained by an act of senseless violence against a man who had fought so long and hard for Light to win.
It was easy to be a hero standing in front of the battle, wielding his sword and girded up for glory, the image that would inspire hope in others, giving them the strength they needed to stand firm in even the darkest of days. But to be rejected and reviled by those you sought to save, continuously undervalued, even scorned, yet still fight for those who spit on you, there lies true courage. Severus was exactly that, the embodiment of courage. Harry loves him, more than he ever imagined it was possible to love someone.
Leaning over, Harry tenderly kissed Severus's forehead and ran his fingers through the silky smooth hair.
"I love you." The young man whispered, lips pressed against the ivory skin. Gathering all his courage, he got up and went to make the final preparations for the ritual. There was no room for doubt. It would be now, and everything would be alright.
It had to be.
(***)
Harry was beyond anxious, but on the outside he bore a stoic mask. He would not give in to his nerves now. Soon the clock would reach eleven and they would begin the ritual. They were in a forest not far from Severus property, standing within a clearing that made a perfect circle around them . The grass was low and damp with the dew of the night. Harry could hear the soft rustling of branches above his head, where owls and other birds sheltered. The creatures of the forest going about their nightly routines all around the perimeter, but none could breach the repellent magic around the clearing.
Ron, Hermione, Severus's healer and Harry were positioned at the cardinal points, dressed in translucent gowns. Each gown was charmed with the runes of healing, bonding, fertility and commitment that glowed faintly over the fabric, keeping time with the beating of their hearts.
Severus was naked and in a state of complete dissociation, lying on the ground in the center of the clearing, arms and legs spread so that he was positioned like a Vitruvian man. His mind had drifted away, his body merely running on autopilot without any specific commands from a rational mind. But hope remained, last of all, like a shooting star streaking through the sky at dawn just before the sun breaks over the horizon to illuminate the day, overshadowing the brightness of the moon and celestial bodies.
Upon Severus' chest, the rune Tyr was painted with annatto. It represented courage, the bravery of the warrior, manliness; the strength, agility, cleverness, and competitiveness of a healthier Severus. More personally, it represented the loving relationship between Harry and Severus, the sensual and volatile passion they shared.
The Beorc rune had been painted with turmeric on Severus' lower abdomen to empower fertility. It would focus the magic that would allow Severus to become fertile, allowing him to safely gestate, sustain, and birth the heirs of his owner and companion.
Finally the Ing rune was painted in brilliant indigo over Severus' arms and legs, declaring the closing of old cycles and foreshadowing a successful new beginning.
The dense darkness of the night surrounding them prevented the wizards from seeing each other clearly, save for the faint glow of the runes on their robes, but it didn't matter now.
The magical hourglass hovering high above Severus's body exploded once the hour reached eleven, spreading fairy dust far across the clearing and over each of the humans there.
The effect was immediate.
Their thoughts were instantly calm and a tide of good feelings swept through their bodies.
They did not have to do or say anything, not really. Only someone who was on the other side of the veil could say the unfamiliar words to the mouths and ears of living souls. Their presence and magical energies would be used as a trigger for the start of the Ritual, to open the veil so that nature and magic could flow across realms freely, allowing Severus Snape to finally be cured.
(***)
Try as they might, the wizards could not close their eyes. As terrifying as it was beautiful and sacred.
A bright blue line tore through the empty air above where Severus lay quiet and still, the crack expanded, blazing with pure magic, brutal, wild and untamed. The opening widened even more, like a curtain being pulled apart slowly, until a figure could be seen emerging from within, dressed in purple robes covered with constellations of gold, huge beard tied with a bow, half-moon spectacles and celestial blue eyes - Albus Dumbledore.
He was not translucent as most ghosts appeared, he seemed real, material, completely alive.
Harry felt his eyes fill with tears, not even noticing when the fat, salty drops rolled down his cheeks to wet his beard.
Albus hovered a moment before his feet touched the grassy ground. He faced Harry and smiled paternally at the young man, his eyes sparkling with appreciation and gratitude.
"Thank you for keeping him alive when I could not, Harry." Albus whispered, a supernatural quality in his voice the only indication that the man truly did not belong to the this carnal plane any longer.
Harry wanted to answer, but his lips were closed by magic and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, yet he did not despair over this, thanks to the effects of the ritual magic. He nodded his head briefly, hoping that his eyes expressed his understanding.
Crouching with a grace no longer impeded by his years of age as when he was alive, he sat behind Severus' head and for the first time in hours the Slytherin showed some reaction.
His neck arched as his head tilted back to look at the face of his mentor. Albus' wrinkled hands, no longer blackened by the ring's curse, touched the Potions Master's face with undisguised affection and longing, his fingertips smoothing the brow of the man that he regarded as a son.
"Oh my son, my big brave boy. What he did to you is unforgivable, and he will suffer much, my boy, for having done so much harm to someone like you."
Severus let out a strangled sound in his throat, but could not speak.
"Sssh just listen... I have little time and came here with a mission. I will always be with you, my boy, I shall always be alive in your heart and in your memories, and you will tell your children and grandchildren about me because you have a long and happy life ahead. I'll say the words now, and soon it will be over. You deserve happiness, Severus, never think differently, never let anyone tell you otherwise."
Tears now streamed from the eyes of all present, the bittersweet offerings filling the clearing with respect and affection - and oh, so much love on Harry's part.
Albus lifted Severus's trunk, hugging him back against his chest, one hand covering the Tyr Rune while the other covered the Beorc Rune.
Sibilant whispers began to echo throughout the clearing, brought by the breath of the winds to surround them. The sound almost becoming a visceral presence as it both entered and exited the broken magic receptacle that was Severus' body. Harry could hear the rhythmic melody of indistinguishable sounds in his head. The magical energy a visible pulse weaving together the loose threads of Severus' magic.
Suddenly, colored tendrils of magic, thin and small, whirling in spirals like smoke, left the tips of Harry's fingers.
It was like a rainbow, but with colors Harry had never seen nor could even give a name to., He knew the magic was not being stolen from him, he was giving it willingly and with love.
The tendrils circled the clearing, forming the infinity symbol between Severus and Harry, representing life, death and the transformation of energy that never ended, rather it merely took on other forms in other realms.
Severus' breath came in fast, painful gasps. His lungs burning as he heard Albus' words, although he could not understand them. Cramps wracked his body and he felt the urge to curl into a tight ball, but could not, because Albus's arms bound him with an iron grip. He wanted desperately to scream and cry out.
"Healing hurts, my boy." Albus said when his whispers slowed. "But it is final."
Severus grit his teeth, and tears flowed from his eyes as his body finally slipped from Albus' grip and fell to the ground, arching and grunting in pain.
His hands scrabbled for anything to ground himself with, but only found grass and dirt beneath his fingers. Unconsciously he began to tear up large clumps of dirt and weeds, his body thrashing like an eel as the cramps grew worse.
Severus could have sworn that this unbearable pain was worse than any Crucio, terrible in every way imaginable.
The multicolored strands of magic that came from Harry, finally, began to engage Severus wrists, ankles, waist and neck, pressing and shimmering before being absorbed by the Slytherin's skin.
The relief Severus felt from receiving Harry's magic was immediate. His body stilled and he lay limply on the ground, breathing becoming shallower, his muscles relaxing as the pain and tension ebbed.
He turned his head carefully to the right and looked up, seeing there the young man for whom he had fallen into a complete and dizzying, passionate love. He belonged to the youth now, he could feel it in every pore of his body, and he loved the feeling of belonging. He could sense, both in his mind and heart, that now there was someone who would never let him down. Someone who would always be there to take care of all his needs, allowing him to let go of the iron control that had governed his life. Now he could simply enjoy the love and happiness he received so readily from Harry.
He was not deserving in the least, he thought, but perhaps it's fate. He smiled, a tiny, little smile, eagerly accepting the last thread of magic, red as a blood-filled artery winding its way toward his heart, binding him unconditionally, finally and irrevocably to that beautiful creature who would do anything for him. The man who had proven himself on so many occasions over the past few years.
I love you…
Severus heard the words within his mind, knowing it was the magical confirmation of the love Harry felt for him, something undeniable as magic revealed the innermost feelings of the young man.
I love you too…
Severus's magic pulsed back, as if an invisible hand held the thread of red magic that Harry had fed into his heart, and the tips of his imaginary fingers strummed the thread tenderly, causing Harry to fall to his knees in response.
"Oh Merlin, Severus!" The Gryffindor said, his voice sounding loud in the previously silent space.
"It is done ..." Hermione whispered when she saw Albus fade with a tender smile. "He's healed... It worked. Merlin! It's worked!"
She and everyone present could feel in their bones the renewed magic radiating from Severus, nothing like his old magic, but something completely new, as if he were a new creature - which Hermione believed to be true.
When the spell at last released the participants and dissipated in the air, Hermione picked up her wand and speaking in ancient Aramaic, executed a series of intricate movements to send Severus and Harry to the property she had prepared for the latter part of Ritual.
She smiled and thanked the gods because finally her dear friends would have the happiness they deserved. She sighed with relief feeling the arms of her husband surround her in an embrace as they heard in the distance the sound of Apparition realizing the intimate moments that would follow and complete the healing process for Severus.
"Once, a bright girl told me that making love in places where magical rituals of love were performed increase a couple's chance of conception by 99.7%."
She smiled into Ron's chest.
"If I end up pregnant with twins, I'll kill you, Ronald Weasley."
He laughed throatily.
"So I'm going to die, very, very happy. I love you." He said kissing Hermione's chin.
"I love you too, Ron. I love you too..."
To be continued…