Author's Note: I know that I normally don't do this, but I felt compelled. This monster of a chapter should reward those who have been patient with my random updating schedule quite well. Oh, and the pigeon/pelican incident from the previous chapter really happened, check out the BBC site for more. Enjoy, my freaky darlings.
Journal entry the thirty-fourth
Time is a harsh mistress. Just as I start to feel alive, death becomes an almost palpable force around me, seeping into every pore and filling me with each laboured breath. Living on borrowed time as I am, I suppose I cannot complain too much, and certainly if I hadn't decided to visit my friend the lich when I did, I would probably be little more than a quivering near-corpse lying on the floor of the Chamber, much as Ginny once was long ago. Instead, I know that with each day the force of death becomes stronger, yet I am warm, safe, somewhat ambulatory, and most miraculously of all without pain, of the physical kind at least. At the time, it seemed somewhat selfish to me when I made the deal with my patron for this extended life, but now I see that it really was necessary. With that added luxury, I have helped ensure that Tom is well on the path to vindication, therefore neutralizing the war somewhat and sparing the students the loss of their loved ones. I can take comfort in a piece of knowledge that very few if any people are privileged or cursed to know; the exact date of my death. So even though I can feel myself dying, I know exactly how many days I have left, and to my amazement I still have well over a month. Vyrrinas is currently working on something to revitalize me somewhat, much as he did to take away my pain and the cold that I always felt, and it would take a better man than I to refuse him such efforts. If anyone on this plane of existence can make my remaining time even more comfortable, he would be the one. Ah, if only I didn't view him as something like an older brother, he would be a wonderful choice to ease the pain of my heart as well as that of my body. Even if I wasn't completely smitten by my image of you, Sev, I still couldn't seek that kind of solace with him, the incestual burden would be far too much and such is not how I could think about him. Ah, I wonder what you are doing as I write this. I hope that you are helping my erstwhile descendant with his latest endeavor, ah, but you are a smart man, so of course you are. That strikes a chord within my memories, there remains a bit of my tale from Salazar's days that I have not yet shared. I'm sure you've noticed by now that I am something of a romantic at heart, and quite devoted to whomever my heart would choose as well as family, so perhaps you've thought it odd that I have not mentioned anything regarding my love life as Salazar. If I have a descendant, then such would be more or less required, yet I have made no mention of anyone from those times save my fellow Founders, my blood family, and most recently Vyrrinas. Take a sip of the firewhiskey that I just know you have at your side, I think you'll need it.
Now, you may think that I am going to launch into a tale of love lost, an epic on the scale of Tristan and Isolde. Well, hate to disappoint you, but such was not the situation. When I first left the druids, before I met my friends, I was a wandering Bard, on a par with my rock star status today. Usually I would pay for my room and board, food, and the ever important ale and pipe-weed with my music, but there were times when I paid, quite enthusiastically, with my body. Women, and more than a few men were often quite anxious to hop into my bed and have me ravish them for most of the night, and I was more often than not willing to comply. After all, I was young, rather comely by most standards, charming, and horny as all hell, so it was a win-win scenario. Even though I would share my bed frequently with women, I knew, somehow, that my future mate would not bear those bits, so I never seriously considered any woman as a potential love interest. I respected them, certes, and grew fond of quite a few, but aside from my bond with Rowena and Helga I never shared anything deeper with women than my physical charms. Even among the males I slept with, I rarely felt anything more than intense physical satisfaction. So, needless to say, I never married, or even shacked up with anyone in that way during my previous life.
Most traditionalists would automatically assume that, in order to produce children, such is necessary. Those people never experienced life in the Dark Ages. Quite often, people were willing back then to overlook this supposed requirement in order to fulfill their biological impulse to procreate with as many other partners as possible, due largely to a very high child mortality rate. Questions of birth outside of marriage were only relevant to royal bloodlines, and even then such concern was a shadow compared to the obsession it would later become. Therefore, it was not unusual for women to sleep with as many comely mates as possible to produce offspring, nor was it looked down upon really. Should children result from such an encounter, the community would usually all contribute to make sure that the child would survive, regardless of the circumstances of birth. Why am I giving you this brief history lesson, you may wonder? Well, it would seem that of all the women that I slept with back then, three produced children of my get that survived past the perilous time of early childhood, which was nothing short of a miracle. I did not know I was a father until Helga and I began to round up wizards for our first class at Hogwarts, and we found not one but three children, all within two years of each other, that clearly bore my parentage. They were all happy to have me, not to mention each other, and I gladly shared the protection of my name and rank with them. From that point, until my eventual death some time later, I'd like to think that I was a good father to them. Even though they were full grown when I last saw them, my image of them now is the ragtag youths that I first encountered long ago.
Ian was the eldest, and he was one of the most charismatic and level-headed individuals I have ever met. All those that knew him regarded him with awe and respect, for he had that air of authority to him that made people stand up and take notice. Like his siblings, he bore a strong physical resemblance to me, as well as being a parseltongue, but he was heavier of build than I could ever dream of being, with shoulders as broad as those of any belted knight. Perhaps you remember when I described the circumstances of our deaths, I mentioned that I had selected the next Headmaster, but I mentioned nothing else about him save that he was a teacher and was ultimately well suited for the job. I am guilty, then, of a crime of omission, for Ian was the one to rush to my side that fateful day, and it was then that I saw the undefinable quality within him that would make him the most logical choice. Sounds like a touch of nepotism, I'm sure, but that had nothing to do with it. At first, when I recognized the next Headmaster, I was so preoccupied I did not even realize whom I had chosen, and only realized it right before I announced his name. It makes sense, in the long run, that he was the most suitable candidate, for even though two others shared my blood he was the natural leader amongst them. I remember, he took after Godric in many ways, to the point where we all began to joke that if it were possible for Godric and I to have a love-child that he would be the result. I'm rather proud that he took after my friend so much, for Godric was one of the noblest people to ever walk the earth.
Younger by Ian by only a few months, as we later deduced, Morgan was temperamentally almost the exact opposite of her brother. She was a energetic, pulsing ball of mischief, but to be around her would be to feel your spirits lighten, and she could nearly light up a room with her smile alone. So close in age as she was to Ian, my friends and I declared that they were default twins, for one balanced the other perfectly. Ian's presence could temper Morgan's exuberance when needed, and likewise when Ian needed to be cheered she would often be the only one to drag him out of his funk. From what I have read, he appointed her as his deputy Headmaster, which could be a reason why Hogwarts continued to prosper. In addition to being almost Puckishly mischievous, Morgan was one of the most clever people around, and was blessed with a photographic memory and a keen eye for detail which served her well not only within Hogwarts, but during her time as the head recruiter of new students in mine and Helga's absence. When she wasn't taking care of her duties as Potions professor (hehe Sev, just think, you're following in my daughter's footsteps, and doing a marvelous job of it) or deputy Headmaster, she was roving the countryside, drawing people to her like flies to honey. I found more written accounts of her than I did of the others, largely due to the fact that she was the first magical encounter for most of the generations of Hogwarts students following our time. If I had to compare her to a modern day individual, I would say that she shared a similar temperament with Tonks, only with more grace and style. From all accounts, the students adored her, and she adored them.
Last, but certainly not least, would be my youngest son Emrys, or Rhys for short. Of all the three, he took after me the strongest, to the point where he was almost the spitting image of myself at his age. The first time that I met him, he had me curled around his little finger, and the same happened when he met my friends. He inherited my share of diplomatic cunning, certainly, and was often the peacemaker and mediator among the students. His strength, however, was his ability to innately sense and figure out magic, which easily made him one of the top students every year. There was no spell he couldn't figure out and reproduce with no instruction, and he only needed to be shown something once before grasping it. Like his siblings, he stayed at the school to teach, and quite often he would fill in for other teachers in addition to teaching his own Magical Theory classes. He was always very easygoing, yet under that demeanor he was intensely devoted to the protection of Hogwarts and those he considered family and friends, much like we four were, and continued throughout his life to find ways to ensure peace. Like his siblings, he inherited the talent of Parseltongue, but in addition he inherited a trait that his siblings didn't possess, the ability to take an animagus form, specifically that of a basilisk. In addition to his duties at Hogwarts, he would occasionally attend the Council gatherings, representing not only the school but our family seat, and it is through his bargaining and diplomacy at these meetings that the goodwill of many magical creatures did not die with us. He wrote many treatises on spellcasting methods and new techniques, and in a cruel twist of fate his works were not entirely destroyed when the Slytherin name declined, but those wizards who were assassinating his character were republishing his works verbatim under their names. Some of those books are still standard reading at Hogwarts because of that, which is a very good thing, for he was a truly brilliant mind.
Unlike their sire, all three of my children found mates, bore children by them, and lived to ripe old ages even by wizarding standards, which is how my human bloodline has managed to continue all the way through the years. Tom is descended not from Ian's line as you may think, but from Morgan's. Ian's and Rhys's descendants still roam throughout the world, as you can spot on the tree. Hmm, that gives me an idea for an embedded spell. This time I don't think I'll include a prank, after all one cannot become too predictable, but since I'm reminiscing about my family, I think I'll reveal one of the secrets of the tree. As you've become aware, many of the names are written in different colours and languages that seem to bear no rhyme or reason. There is a reason, one I set in place to protect those of my blood in case things went wrong. Originally, the tree was rather straightforward, if hidden. When I rediscovered it in the Chamber my second year, I began to lay enchantments on it, one on top of the other, to obscure much of the actual tree. Say the word 'Slytherin", and two pieces of a stone talisman will appear, one in your possession and one in Tom's. Have Tom smear just a few drops of his blood on the side where the two pieces will join, put them together, set the statue down on the blood-stained spot on the floor right in front of the ouroboros carving, then step back and enjoy the show. You can invite others to watch, if you wish, for I do trust your judgement.
Even though I had not planned on becoming a father, I thank whatever deity might be listening that I was such a man-whore in my younger life, for I was gifted with three truly exceptional children, whom I loved more than just about anything. My friends were as surprised as I, but quickly adopted them, accepting them into their hearts readily. I'm just happy that the constant spoiling that they received did not go to their heads,and that they spent the vast majority of their lives happy and well-loved, much like the rest of the student body. Indeed, my friends took to my children and the students as they would have their own, but sadly I was the only one of the Founders to have biological children. I know that there have been families claiming to be the blood descendants of Helga, Rowena, and Godric, but these claims are false. There was always the sense that we had more than enough time, in our long lives, to settle down and sire children once things were stabilized, but that chance was denied to my friends. At least I had the pleasure of having children of my own, and while it wasn't the same I was more than happy to share them with my friends. I'm not so upset about not finding my mate back then, because it is my suspicion that he was still a long ways from being born. Eh, I don't have the energy for subtlety or toying around Sev, so I will come out and share my suspicion that, in yet another cruel twist of fate, that I believe you to be the mate that I felt I would have all that time ago. It is not an accident that our lives were so entwined, I refuse to accept that. Once more, time runs out, and once more I have loved ones to lose. It does not get easier the second time around, despite the popular saying.
I can feel myself fading for the evening, but I have energy left for one more spell before I retire for the night. I might be bending the rules of space-time somewhat, but I just can't satisfy myself with the mental image of you as I imagine you to be. When you finish this entry, hold out your hand and a piece of chocolate will appear in your palm. This is your choice, but if you choose to eat the chocolate then when you fall asleep you'll take an astral trip out-of-body. Remember how I would appear when I took astral trips to visit Tom? Well, this will not only be a trip through space but time as well, for after the disorientation fades you will be standing before me, without a physical body but still present. Sev, I know this is asking a lot of you, but the need to know if I would have stood a chance with you is almost all-encompassing. If you choose not to come, throw the chocolate in the fire, and I'll still know, so you don't have to face me if you do not wish. If you do decide to come, I will ask one thing of you. Sev, whatever you may feel towards me, be it love, hate, or anything inbetween, be honest not only with me but yourself. There won't be time for egos to clash, or social norms to be respected, for at most we will have just one night. If you do not wake before eight hours, I've included a termination aspect to the spell, which will send you back to your body. Any longer in astral form can wreak havoc with mind and body, trust me on that. I wish I had more energy to duplicate this spell, but I fear that it is a one-time thing. Should you take the trip, you will arrive whenever I wake up after writing this entry, Vyrrinas's wards notwithstanding. Sweet dreams, my Prince, and I hope that you do whatever feels right.
Merlin, I'm still shaking as I sit here, two days after reading this entry. Despite the turmoil I have endured recently, I feel better than I have in quite some time, although my comfort comes from a different source. Ah, before I skip too far ahead of myself, I shall recount the events that were set in motion once that chocolate popped into my hand.
As I was reading the journal, my houseguests were occupying themselves quite thoroughly with the still-present snow cone machine, trying in vain to make firewhiskey-flavoured snow cones that still contained the full alcohol content. When that chocolate appeared in my hand, Anubis suddenly stood and came over to me, grabbing my hand firmly and examining the chocolate as if it was some strange alien specimen. I did not even need to tell him the intent behind the confection, for he gazed at me with a very sober, solemn, and concerned expression. I held his gaze, which under the circumstances was an impressive feat, and after a few moments he nodded his head and motioned that he would like to examine the chocolate closer. I acquiesced, and he turned it over and over again in his exceedingly agile hands before looking at me once more, a content smile on his face and a strange gleam in his eyes. Before I could inquire, he sent images and several coherent thoughts through my shields, indicating that he wished to alter the spell slightly. He reassured me that it would still serve its function when he sensed my initial shock, and such was his expression that I agreed silently. He closed his eyes and closed his hand around the chocolate, which for a moment glowed with an unearthly dark light before returning to it's normal innocuous appearance. He then handed it back to me with such reverence that it might have been a treasured holy relic, and gave me a playful wink and reassuring pat on the shoulder before returning to the snow cone machine, which was currently being cursed at in what I assume to be colourful crow-language. Despite the concern I began to feel for the future status of my living quarters given the 'incidents' that tend to happen when they get so involved in a project, I simply sat there staring at the chocolate for some time before rising from my chair. Before I lost my nerve, I popped the entire chocolate into my mouth before heading over to visit Tom in order to share this revelation about the Slytherin family line.
Some of the anxiety that I was feeling must have shown, for when Tom answered the door he immediately ushered me in and poured a rather generous glass of well-aged scotch for me before even asking the purpose of my visit. Taking a minute to regain some semblance of composure, I related what Harry mentioned about the family tree in the Chamber, and from Tom's expression one would think that Christmas had come early. Holding out our hands in anticipation, I uttered the trigger word and promptly, with his usual attention to detail showing, two pieces of a stone statue appeared, one in my outstretched hands and the other in those of Tom's. The statue wasn't the finest piece I have seen, although the details were clear enough. The piece I held was the figure of a young man looking down with one hand resting on his hip, and the piece that Tom received was clearly the base on which the statue stood, and was carved to represent a writhing mass of snakes, with one regal example standing erect, reaching towards the young man's free hand. After a moment's examination, Tom deftly sliced his fingertip enough to release a few drops of blood into the holes carved into the base, and smeared the residual drop across the stone pegs that served as the feet for the statue. Carefully, we eased the statue into the base, and were rewarded when the statue slid home with little resistance. When the blood-smeared surfaces touched, the rather plain statue was suddenly infused with touches of colour here and there, lending a greenish tinge to the entwined serpents and a surprising amount of reddish colour around the neck of the young man. Sharing a glance, we rose as one and immediately set out for the Chamber. Amazingly, we encountered not a soul on our way to the Chamber entrance, not even the usual student or two out after curfew.
When we arrived, however, we were met with a large, slightly inebriated crow that, for some reason, was wearing a miniature strap-on purple party hat with a fuzzy orange ball attached at the tip. If avians can smirk, he certainly was smirking at us as we entered the room. I should know by now that he would be perverse enough to surprise us in such a manner, but we got over the shock quickly and made our way over to the wall bearing the tree. Finding the bloodstain was somewhat trickier, but Tom spotted an area of floor in the right area that was slightly darker than the stone surrounding it. Carefully, we placed the statue in the middle of the stain and stepped back with more than a touch of haste. At first, nothing seemed to happen, for the tree remained as obscure as ever, but suddenly the carving of the ouroboros began to move, opening it's mouth to release it's tail as if yawning. It's gaze immediately turned to that of the statue, and the cold stone eyes began to burn with a sickly yellow glow. Still with it's tail anchored in the stone, the ouroboros extended it's body towards the statue, flicking out a gray stone tongue to investigate further. It briefly glanced at Tom, who held his ground admirably, and seemed to nod it's head. Picking the statue up delicately in it's mouth, the stone serpent made it's way back to it's original resting spot on the wall, touching the statue to a smooth spot on the wall, where it was absorbed completely. As soon as the serpent had returned to it's dormant state, a crest of arms that I recognized to be the Slytherin family standard, albeit an early version, appeared where the statue had dissolved into the wall, and there was a flash of light so bright that it blinded us all, and provoked the crow to share some avian insults with us that, if we wore feathers, I'm sure we would have found devastating. When our sight returned, the family tree was no longer obscured, but clear as day if somewhat complex. Tom released an uncharacteristic whoop in victory and even went so far as to embrace me in a fit of enthusiasm, to the chorus of corvid snickering of course. I must admit, the tree was as impressive as I had imagined it to be, and we stood there for more than a few moments, tracing the family lines that had interbred with the lines of Salazar's children. Tom was rather shocked to find that he was directly related to the Weasleys through Molly, who would be his third cousin. We were aware that the Malfoys had interbred with Salazar's lines, but it was truly shocking to know that Lucius was not a Malfoy by blood, for his mother had taken a lover from Morgan's line but had passed his child off as her husband's. He is still the head of the Malfoy family, for even if he is not the blood heir his claim still stands through adoption, but I can only imagine the fit he would have if this detail were to be revealed. Even more shocking, however, was the revelation that Lucius and Tom shared the same father, making them half-brothers by blood in truth.
With a wry grin, I felt fatigue begin to overcome me and decided to depart to my chambers, so I said my farewells to Tom, even though they went unnoticed so rapt of attention was he, and left with the crow in hot pursuit. The excitement from this latest discovery began to wane as I got closer to my quarters, for in the excitement I had momentarily forgotten that I had ingested the chocolate that Harry spelled to me. My pace slowed as I began to wonder what lay in store for me when I would drift off. I admit, I had spent a goodly amount of time longing to meet with the man responsible for the journal, but now that such a dream was on the verge of becoming a reality I found myself almost paralyzed with equal parts anticipation and stark terror. If not for the crow prodding me in the back with his unnaturally sharp beak, I would have taken quite a bit more time to reach my quarters. The god was passed out on my couch completely starkers as usual, and such was my state that I did not even take notice of this fact. As tired as I was from the day's revelations to that point, I found myself unable at first to drift off. I was hesitant to take a sleeping potion or such, for I was not sure how it would react with the unknown spells not only placed by Harry but by his patron. Eventually, however, sleep finally claimed me despite my worries and insecurities, but unlike most nights I knew that what I would witness was no dream, but a reality set into motion by an extraordinary yet damned man who never wanted more than to love and be loved in peace.
I knew exactly when I had crossed from the waking world into a different plane, for suddenly I found myself surrounded by a greenish swirling mist, and I could almost feel every molecule of my body as parts of me seemed to fade in and out of existence. This seemed to last an eternity, but at the same time it was over in a flash, and when I opened my eyes, which I had closed to keep myself from succumbing to vertigo, I found myself in a rather luxurious bedroom, with a roaring fire in the fireplace and a single large, overstuffed chair placed in front. Scanning the room, I could not find any trace of it's inhabitant, so the chair by default was the only place he could be. I stood there for a second, almost waiting for his almost uncanny deduction skills to come to the fore and welcome my arrival without even turning, but I was met with a silence broken by the occasional sound of laboured breathing. Tentatively, I circled to the other side of the chair, finding that I was quite able to walk and move of my own volition, and the sight that greeted me was absolutely heartbreaking. Nestled among a large pile of blankets and pillows, if not for the sound of his breathing it would have been easy to think he was a corpse. His skin was pale and almost tissue-like in appearance, covered with strange purplish bruises on most of his visible parts. Dark bags gathered under his slightly sunken eyes, which were closed at the moment, and his face was almost skeletal, with no spare flesh to be had. His hand, peeking out from his covers, was just as emaciated, and the skin had split in several places. His hair, normally a thick glossy black with reddish highlights under the right lighting, was dull and straw-like even in the warm light from the fire. I must have made some kind of distressed sound, for suddenly his eyes opened, revealing orbs that remained the same shade as the killing curse, but now glazed over with a slightly crazed look. Remembering what he had done earlier, he looked at me as if I was some type of curiousity at a fair. I have committed this memory to my pensieve, so I will faithfully record our encounter.
After staring at each other for a moment, it was Harry who broke the silence. "You came, you actually came.." His voice was raspy, but still rather melodic despite that. "I truly thought that you wouldn't even make it that far in the journal, let alone ingest an unknown spell cast by a dead man whom you weren't on such good terms with.."
I held up my hand at that, and upon reflection my tone was a bit more snappish than it should have been. "Don't presume, Harry. A lot has changed since your-"
"My death, I know, believe me of all people I know. If things have changed to the point where I'm not your arch-nemesis anymore, then it really was drastic.", he interjected, with both a sarcastic and wistful tone. "Wait, you called me Harry. I don't think you've ever done that before."
I grimaced at this statement, but knew the truth of it. "Yes, I have been more than unfair to you in the past, but given the circumstances and the plots within plots, I'm not sure things could have turned out any different. Reading your journal, it would be terribly improper to still be on formal terms with you. I know that you wished to be known as Salazar, not Harry, but I simply can't do that. Not after..." I paused for a moment, trying to figure out a way to tell him about his friends. "Salazar is the name of the body resting in the sarcophagus deep within Hogwarts, not the name of the person who singlehandedly began the revolution that has started to heal ancient rifts within the wizarding world and removed some of the people responsible for it's near destruction from play."
He paled even more at my statement. "You found us..." His eyes shuttered at this, and a brief shadow of pain crossed his face before returning to his excited yet weary expression. "It wasn't in vain, then. I suppose I should be grateful on some level, very few people can claim to have the impact on the world that I have, not once but twice." He paused here, his eyes staring not at my face but at my shoulder. "Where were we..."
I sighed and reflexively summoned a chair to sit in, moving in close to the bundled figure. Instinctively reaching out a hand, I absently began toying with his fragile hair gently as I recalled those incidents, trying to soothe not only his distress but mine. "The room where you left the manuscripts for me to find, I sat in the chair and quite by accident revealed a staircase that took me to the room. There were four sarcophagi, in the cardinal directions, carved out of solid stone and each emblazoned with a name and crest... " Sadness infused my tone at this point, and we sat there for a moment, each wrapped in our own personal pain, before Harry's head suddenly snapped up and stared at me in wonder. I raised an eyebrow while still stroking his hair. "Something cross your mind, I could swear that I just saw a light bulb over your head."
He continued to stare at me a moment longer before answering. "You're... you're touching my hair. The spell, you shouldn't have any ability for physical contact of any sort." He thought for a moment, and then looked at me with a panicked expression. "Something must have gone wrong with the spell, Sev you've got to go back. Too risky, if I messed up that part who knows what else could have gone wrong.."
Sensing that his panic was only escalating, I carefully took his hand in mine and cupped his chin in the other. "Listen to me Harry, there was nothing wrong with the spell. You're far too much of a perfectionist to entrust my well-being to some shoddy spellwork. No, the reason that I am tangible stems back to something that happened before I left that I didn't quite understand, although I think that when I return I will take him on a shopping spree at Honeydukes. "
Calming down somewhat, he raised an eyebrow at me with what could almost be called a look of jealousy. "Him? Who could have the power to mess with one of my spells, and why did you trust him like that."
I couldn't repress a grin at the expression on his face, and I began to chuckle under my breath. "He is one of my current houseguests, and one that you are at least somewhat familiar with. When you sent us to retrieve your part of the library, we were more or less lead on a guided tour to visit your patron, whom we had a brief, terrifying encounter with. Imagine my surprise when he suddenly shows up in my quarters, wishing for me to serve as a guide for however long his visit may be. "
His jaw dropped at my revelation, and his eyes started to gleam with the same look that Anubis gets whenever he gets a particularly wicked thought. "Anubis, in humanoid form, is staying with you?"
I nodded, grimacing slightly. "You know, you forgot to mention a few details about him, such as his pranking prowess, love of nakedness, and all around silliness. Between him and the crow, whom I believe you are familiar with as well, my life as of late has certainly been interesting, even without the readings from your journal." I grinned and winked at him, a move which apparently shocked him somewhat. "You will be happy to know that they have continued your practice of Malfoy-taunting, to the degree where I think they might be traumatized by life. Although I'm sure they have learned to knock on doors after witnessing Anubis struggling to figure out how to wear a kilt."
He laughed at this, actually laughed, and the movements shook his too-thin frame. "Oh, those two loose in Hogwarts. I think that I actually pity you somewhat Sev." I joined in his laughter, but soon his laughs degraded into coughing, which made him appear even more frail than before.
With a wave of my hand, I banished my chair and extended his chair into a couch. Sitting down at one end at a slight recline, I gently lifted him so that he was resting against me, and began to rub circles on his much abused back. After a few minutes, the coughing subsided and he leaned into me, almost trying to soak up as much of my body heat as possible. I rewrapped the blankets around us so that he wouldn't catch a chill that would make his remaining life absolutely miserable, and rested my face against the side of his. "Harry, if I could take any of this away from you, I would.", I whispered into his ear.
He shuddered slightly at that, and lifted his eyes to look into mine. Whatever he saw in them gave him an expression of happiness and extreme sadness. "Sev, will you forgive me? I know I probably should not have written all those things I did, but even now I can't bring myself to take them out.."
He looked so lost and forlorn at that moment that I did something on impulse that I will never regret. To stop his self-depreciating rant, I leaned down and gently placed my lips against his, not pressing the matter but rather trying to channel all of the repressed affection that I bore towards him in that one moment of contact. Too shocked at first to respond, he leaned into the tender, tentative kiss fervently. When our faces lifted from each other's, I looked him in the eyes and held his gaze. "Do not, I repeat, do not doubt that you are a remarkable man worthy of love. Even though I know that my feelings on the matter are cursed, I cannot help but love you, you insubordinate brat. Yes, it hurts that you are not around in the future, and the thought that your death is imminent at the moment is hard to bear, but it is a pain I thought myself incapable of experiencing. Do not regret your feelings, as I do not mine."
He closed his eyes at this, almost wincing, and relaxed completely against my body, doing a remarkable imitation of a rag doll. "There are precious few regrets in my life, and I could never count love as one of those." He sighs deeply at this, and opens his eyes, a haunted look dimming the normal brilliant emerald. "Even if I could transfer this illness, these burdens, to another, I wouldn't. I've long accepted that my only purpose in this life is that of a tool, a catalyst of change, and as long as the job gets done it doesn't seem to matter that the tool is damaged or broken beyond repair. You, on the other hand, can finally live the free life you were denied by circumstances just as screwed as mine. That... well, it's worth it. It would seem that my lot in life is to sacrifice myself for the ones I love." He started chuckling silently to himself, as if at a private joke. "Yes, love, I wonder why people are doomed to love me, for it usually doesn't end well for them.." His chuckling continued, mixed with shaking sobs as I tightened my arms around him slightly, rendered momentarily speechless by his startling revelations.
"Harry, look at me." Still he remained chuckling, but after a few blinks his gaze cleared and me met my gaze unwavering, a slight feverish look still remaining in his emerald depths. "You wrote about hope, several times in your journal. Brat, I think that you've shared that affliction with me. " I leaned my head down, burying my face in his hair before sighing wistfully. "You've taught me a great many things, the key lesson being that things usually aren't what they seem to be." I shifted once more to kiss him tenderly on his cheek, leaning in close to his ear. "I suspect that you will somehow manage to break the rules of life and death as you have every other set of rules before you. I don't think they apply to you the way they do the rest of us." I smirked against his ear, feeling him tremble slightly as my breath caressed his ear. "Do you trust me?"
He snorted at my statement, somehow making it sound affectionate. "What kind of question is that, I almost have a right mind to be insulted.." He trailed off before playfully and gently slapping the back of my head. "Why do you ask, out of sheer morbid curiousity?"
I smirked at his reaction, for of course he would know that I already knew the question that I had wasted breath asking, and resumed stroking his hair. "It has occurred to me as of late that perhaps some of the events that have transpired after your ritual were not part of your original design. I can't quite piece it together yet, but I think that the true motives of my houseguests may have something to do with this pesky hope I feel. It was not an accident, the series of events that led to their presence in Hogwarts. I think that there is a scheme within a scheme here, and it is my instinct that, whatever their motives may be, they mean no harm. Unless your name is Malfoy, of course. Those pictures turned out wonderfully, by the way. They rest on my mantle now."
He chuckled carefully at this, not wanting to trigger another coughing spasm. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for classic humour such as that." Taking in the rest of my confession, he tilted his head somewhat and I could see his exceptional mind processing what he had just heard. After a moment, he tilts his head to stare into my eyes, a gleam present in them that I had never seen in his eyes before. "Hm, perhaps this hope isn't as pesky a syndrome as I thought. Whatever they plot together, I know that it doesn't interfere with my own workings. You seem to trust them, and since I know you to have impeccable judgment in such things when left to your own devices I will trust your observations." He then graced me with a brilliant smile, free of pain and filled with so much warmth that I actually choked up somewhat. "Of course, I dare not voice my own suspicions, for fear that the fickle nature of fate will be just as contrary as I tend to be. " Gazing at me a moment longer, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine, even going so far as to snake his tongue out and run it across my slightly parted lips. In my shock and pleasant surprise, I opened myself to this invasion, and our tongues dueled for supremacy as we shared what was likely the most satisfying kiss either of us had experienced to date.
We broke off gradually and he smirked against my lips, running one slightly shaking hand through my own fine hair. "Hm, it's not greasy at all, I'll have to come up with a new nickname... how about Snuggle Bunny?" He smirked at my horrified expression, and raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Well, you are very nice to snuggle up with, and one of my kinkier daydreams featured you with a set of fluffy bunny ears, so Snuggle Bunny it is." He laughed at this, and even if I had not been paralyzed in horror over my new apparent nickname I would have been rapt to see some life creep back into his frail frame, amusement and joy momentarily taking the place of torment and pain. He laughed at my expression and sat up somewhat, so that now he was sitting in my lap staring down at me with twinkling eyes and a mischievous, challenging look.
I regarded him with some concern, remembering how weak and seemingly frail he was when I first appeared in his quarters. "Harry, I don't want you to overtax yourself, are you quite alright?"
He snorted at my statement once more and sat up straighter, so that he was now straddling my lap in a rather debauched pose. "I just rested for quite some time, and I have found that I can maintain normal energy levels for a decent stretch when properly motivated." He sat there for a moment, smirking down at me, but when he shifted he felt the bulge in my trousers that had been rather persistent from the moment we first kissed. He paused momentarily, but before I could say anything he looked into my eyes with a heated, lustful look. "Sev, I know that's not a wand in your pocket..." His voice, which had been raspy to begin with, was slightly lower in register and slightly breathless.
I felt my face turn bright red, mostly in embarrassment but at least partly in lust. Before I could say anything, he leaned down to give me a rather heated, passionate kiss, and with a shift of his hips I could tell that he was suffering the same affliction that I found myself under. I couldn't hold back a groan at the friction, and when he heard that his emerald eyes began to burn with a fire that only a truly passionate soul can reflect. "Don't you dare apologize Sev." His eyes drooped to half mast as he gradually began to rock himself back and forth on my lap, resulting in some rather amazing friction that left us both gasping and craving more. He leaned forward to whisper in my ear, brushing my lobe with his impressively agile tongue. "I have a secret, Sev, that I haven't shared with anyone. Would you like to hear it?"
Preoccupied as I was with the sensations that were threatening my self control, I could do naught but nod in reply to his query. I could feel his grin against my ear as he teased the moist skin with his breath before continuing. "My dear friend Vyrrinas, one of the many potions he poured into me had an effect that I thought would be useless, until this very moment. Somehow, he managed to neutralize the part of my illness that made me contagious, and he even confirmed it with blood work." He groaned into my ear after a rather enthusiastic moment of grinding, and continued. "One of my greatest fears, and the reason that I did not pursue you this past year was the fear that any kind of...intimate activity would be a death sentence for you." His voice grew even raspier and huskier as I began to realize what he was implying. "You profess love for who I am, Sev... now you can show me just how dear you hold me.." He lifted his head for a moment and reached to the nearby table for a sealed vial, smirking as he opened the stopper. "This potion will, for several hours, rejuvenate me to the point where I would not break from such attentions. Should I take it, Sev, or should I put it back on the table.."
Despite the lust clouding my brain, I could hear the slight tremor of fear in his voice with this last statement, and his body language, despite the arousal, screamed that he was preparing himself for rejection. Holding his gaze, I took the vial out of his hands and examined it with a critical eye. "Rather expertly made, I think that I shall ask the lich to share some of his potions secrets with me." Seeing his slight confusion, I deftly lifted the vial to his lips, which opened automatically in his confused state. Understanding dawned in his eyes finally, and I gently tilted the vial as he drank every drop, groaning as I watched his throat muscles working, swallowing the slightly viscous liquid. I set the empty vial back on the table and watched as he almost seemed to become rejuvenated before my very eyes. He looked at me with something bordering on awe, and I chuckled at his stunned reaction. "The last thing you would ever wish to do was harm me, so I know that you wouldn't make such an offer unless you were completely sure of that fact. And I must confess, you are not the only one to have such dreams.." I lifted my hips at this statement, grinding against his own arousal and groaning once more at the sensation.
Taking a quick glance at our current surroundings, however, I knew that it wouldn't do, so I stood up and, before he could protest, picked him up bridal style and almost made a mad dash for his bedroom. He actually squeaked when I carefully and gently tossed him onto the large, king size bed. He laughed, actually laughed at my somewhat out of character spontaneity and lack of grace, but his mirth quickly turned to lust as I slithered into bed next to him, gently pinning him down to the bed as I proceeded to slowly strip him of his too-large clothing. I felt him tense up as I slid my hand underneath his silk shirt, and he gasped rather loudly as I rubbed my thumb against his hard nipple, teasing it with alternating rough and gentle strokes. As much as I could tell he was enjoying this, his body was still far too tense, so as I slowly unbuttoned his shirt I leaned up so we were face to face. "Harry, if you don't want this, I don't want to force you.." I could hear that my own voice was even deeper and coarser than usual.
He turned his head to the side and blushed fiercely at my statement. "Sev, I want to feel you deep inside me almost more than I can stand, but..." He sighed, and I stopped unbuttoning his shirt so he could focus on his next statement. "It's just that, well, my illness has ravaged my body, inside and out, and I don't want to have you turn away in disgust, or worse show pity..." His voice trailed off in a whisper, and I could see that this truly disturbed him.
When I started to laugh softly, his head snapped up and he looked at me as if I had just grown another head. "Love, I of all people have no reason to be disgusted by scars or such. Really, do you think me that shallow? And I can honestly say that I have never pitied you, because like you such a display disgusts me." To prove my point, I finished unfastening his shirt and quickly pulled it off, before he had any time to protest. His torso was a mass of scars and healing bruises, with no hint of the Quidditch toned body that his image once boasted. Before he could try to gage my reaction to such a sight, I leaned down and reverently swirled my tongue around one of his nipples, caressing the other already sensitive one with my thumb. With my free hand, I began to lightly caress his exposed skin, marveling and drowning in the silky, warm flesh that I was feasting my senses upon. My light touches were quickly overriding any remaining concerns in his mind about my physical attraction to him. Honestly, it would not have mattered if he had three arms and was puce in colour, for I'm attracted to the man within.
I slid my tongue down from his nipple towards his navel, leaving the exposed, wet nub to be caressed by the slightly cool air in the room, and judging from his reaction of almost bucking off the bed when I circled my tongue around his navel, it was clearly one of his erogenous zones. Soon he was panting, and wordlessly begging for more contact, so I decided to show off a skill that I learned back in my early days, when I had first joined the Death Eaters. I took the drawstring of his pants and deftly untied it using only my mouth, and catching the hem in my teeth I dragged his pants down, over his narrow hips until he lay there, fully exposed to my hungry gaze. Throwing his pants to the side, I looked down and the flushed, panting, wholly aroused figure beneath me and for a moment I thought that the surge of emotion that came over me would flood my senses entirely. He met my gaze, and what he saw there threatened to overcome him as well, for he instinctively reached out to me, pulling me down for a heated kiss and groaning at the feel of my clothes sliding over his bare skin. "Sev, too many clothes..", he near whimpered, and with a surprising show of strength he flipped us over, so that I was laying on my back and he was straddling my lap, completely naked, and trying to rip my clothes off of my body. I was too far gone to do anything but help him, and in record time my clothes were in a shredded and torn pile on the floor next to the bed.
His gaze was slowly devouring me as his eyes roamed over my body, which I am glad that I have maintained over the years, but he stopped at my forearm, the one that once bore the Dark Mark but now was perhaps the only bit of skin I had that did not bear any scars. The emotions in his eyes flickered for just a moment, before turning back to my newly naked form with an almost primal lust. He ran one hand down my chest, almost reverently exploring the texture of my skin. A rather mischievous and almost impish grin began to appear on his face as he slid his hand down even further, caressing the soft skin of my almost painful erection with feather touches. "Mmm, if there were any doubts in my mind how you felt about me, they are most definitely dispelled.", he murmured, running his sinfully agile tongue across his lips before sliding down my prone form so that his gaze was level with my arousal. "Sev, would you like to know one of the best aspects of having serpent heritage is?", he drawled, smirking up at me with a glint in his eyes. Before I could answer, he laughed and leaned forward so that his hot breath would torment my erection even more. "No gag reflex, love." With that, he suddenly opened his mouth, unhinged his jaw slightly, and swallowed me whole. Despite his attempt to hold my hips, I did buck up somewhat when I felt his hot, moist mouth and throat suck me in, but he simply laughed around the length in his mouth, sending vibrations so intense that I had to use every ounce of willpower I had to stop myself from coming. By this time, I was incapable of any form of verbal communication save moans, gasps, and the occasional muttered "Merlin..", and was nearly undone again when he began to use his powerful throat muscles to swallow, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body. He truly enjoyed watching me thrash around on the bed, but with his sharp observation he withdrew my length from his sensual mouth before I crested. He looked for all the world like a cat that was caught with canary feathers still stuck in his teeth, and he slithered up my body so that he was lying on top of my sweat-coated form.
His own arousal had not lessened in the slightest, and a thought crossed through my mind that apparently showed on my face, for he gave me an inquisitive look. With a smirk of my own, I conjured a leather cock-ring and secured it firmly in place around my throbbing length, rewarding me with a raised eyebrow and even more inquisitive look. "You're not getting off that easy, Harry, I plan to have you writhe in mind-blowing pleasure over, and over, and over again..." I whispered into his ear, making him shudder in anticipation. I rolled him over onto the bed on his back, and began to lightly stroke his own chest and abdomen, skirting the visible bruises. With my other, calloused hand I took his erection firmly and gave it one good, long stroke, making him cry out in pleasure. I leaned up, still pumping his length with one hand and toying with the nearest nipple with the other, and kissed him with as much passion as I could muster. Apparently, these sensations were too much for him, and after a few minutes he cried out in purest pleasure and came in copious amounts all over my hand and his abdomen. Now it was my turn to chuckle as I began to trace patterns in the rapidly cooling semen on his body while he came down from what was apparently a very explosive orgasm. His eyes were still hazed over with lust, love, and several other emotions that I couldn't name, and I met his gaze with my own, trying to show him the depth of my feelings.
Still holding his gaze, I slid one semen-coated finger down to his entrance, gently circling and probing the somewhat relaxed hole with my fingertip, and my smirk grew when I saw him start a full body blush. After a moment more of gentle exploration, his arousal began to harden anew, and he began to instinctively push back against my finger. With just the slightest crook of my finger, I struck the magic spot within him, causing him to buck his body nearly off the bed and start involuntarily speaking in parseltongue. Soon, he was panting and pleading with me in several languages, his arousal now hard and leaking against his stomach. Immensely grateful that I had thought to summon the cock ring, I summoned a bottle of lube and, after warming it on my fingers for a moment, began to stretch and prepare him in earnest, still taking the utmost care and taking my time so as not to hurt him as he had been hurt repeatedly in the past. Soon he was almost past the point of no return, begging and pleading for me to give him release. I grabbed a couple of the nearest pillows and slid them under his hips and, after slicking myself thoroughly, positioned myself at his entrance but did not slide in. He mewled in protest, but I captured his gaze and he held still. "Harry, I want to you watch me, don't take your eyes off of mine, love." He nodded and I held his vibrant emerald gaze, pouring as much love and affection I could into his eyes as I could as I slid into him, penetrating him fully on the first slow thrust. The sensation of his tight, hot passage squeezing me like a velvet vice was almost too much, and I'm sure that if I had not taken precautions I would have shot my load right at that moment. I held still for a moment, still staring at him while letting him adjust to my not inconsiderable size, but almost immediately he began pushing his hips back, lust overriding all else in those emerald orbs. It would have taken a much stronger man than I to resist such a signal, and I leaned forward, capturing his mouth as I began to slowly thrust in and out of his tight passage, burying myself to the hilt each time and striking his prostate with every other thrust. Apparently I began to growl slightly deep within my chest, for he smirked and growled in return. "Mine...", I couldn't help but utter as I felt him start to writhe in arousal in pleasure under me, and it would seem that this was quite an aphrodisiac for him, for just that statement pushed him almost to the edge. I sped up my thrusts, now almost slamming deep within him with primal instincts that I just couldn't deny anymore, and I was soon rewarded with him achieving yet another explosive orgasm, hissing in parseltongue as he convulsed in sheer pleasure. As I gazed down at his now supremely relaxed body, complete with silly grin and sweat-slicked skin, I was near overcome with a wave of emotion that choked me up somewhat.
Focusing on me, he noticed that I still had the cock ring in place, and glanced at me with an almost challenging look. "Sev, mark me...", he managed to mutter, and he deftly rolled over onto his stomach, raising his hips and shooting a smoldering look over at his shoulder at me. Unable to resist, I slid back into his still relaxed entrance, moaning once more at the intense heat threatening to consume me entirely. I leaned forward, taking his slim body in my arms and embracing him firmly, rocking into him at just the right angle to hit his prostate every time, quickly sending him back into a fevered state of arousal. Soon he was panting in need once more and driven back to the point where pleasure almost becomes pain, and as I buried my face in the crook of his neck he moaned, "Sev, take it off...". With more dexterity than I knew I possessed at the time, I quickly untied the strap and threw it to the other side of the room. A few fevered, frenzied thrusts and professions of love later, and I was undone, spilling wave after wave of hot cum deep within him as he came explosively once more all over the sheets, his erection untouched. We both collapsed bonelessly to the bed, snuggling into the other's arms after first banishing the soiled sheets with a wave of the hand. For the first time, most likely in the entirety of his present life, he looked at me and gave me a true smile which choked me up somewhat.
For several hours, we lay there like that, embracing each other, sharing all kinds of personal secrets which I am loathe to share with anyone else. Far too soon for my liking, his look clouded somewhat and he sighed despondently. "Sev, the spell is almost spent..." I nodded my understanding and captured his gaze once more. Without saying a word, I pulled him into a tender, affectionate kiss, savouring his taste for a moment before pulling away. "Remember Harry, there might be something to that pesky hope after all..." He looked doubtful for a moment, but amazingly that expression was shoved aside by an actual look of hope, if somewhat tentative. Right after that, I felt the world start to shimmer and shift with a now familiar disorientation, and when I next opened my eyes, I was in my own bed, the silence disturbed now by an odd clanking in my living room. Once I regained my composure somewhat, I sat down to pen this narrative, which has admittedly taken more of my time than I thought. Just writing this has spent me somewhat, so I will retire to my hopefully undemolished living room, so see what has transpired in my absence. Hope. I have to keep hope, for his sake. I just wish it wasn't so damned hard.