Hope the new year is going well for everyone! Let me know what you think of the new chapter!

Love you all :)

Part Three: Falling

"We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down."
— Kurt Vonnegut

o.O.o

XXIII: Dawn of a New Day

Harry woke up in what he thought was the middle of the night. The head that lay on his chest still, stirred.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Snape croaked, his voice still half asleep.

"You can't sleep?" Harry asked fingers automatically drifting through black tresses.

"I have to wake up," Snape said and leaned up on the bed. His long hair fell over his shoulder, pooled onto Harry's belly, dripping slowly to the side. "Reality awaits."

"It is true then," Harry yawned. "You are a vampire. Why else would you go out this late?"

Snape huffed, bent his head, kissed Harry's stomach. "I have my prey." He looked up, lips descending again, dangerously close to Harry's nipple. "Right where I want it."

Harry sighed, long and deep, his body, his mind both still half way among dreams and now it seemed reality had become just like that, too, a fantasy.

"Besides, it's not late anymore, it's early. It's almost six." He said, brushing his hair all the way to one side.

"Blimey, that is early…" Harry grimaced. "Can I somehow convince you to stay?"

His hand lifted and with it his body, too. He rose and pressed a small kiss to Snape's mouth. He was welcomed and they fell back onto the bed.

"No," Snape said, minutes later, breathless, tussled, pyjama shirt half-way undone. "I have to be in London in an hour."

Harry let him go. He sat up too, stretching.

"You can stay."

He remembered a man a long time ago who wouldn't have let him stay alone in his office for five minutes, let alone in his bedroom. Maybe they did grow up together.

Harry just shook his head. "I'll go get breakfast."

Harry stayed in bed until Snape dressed then he turned into an owl, too lazy yet to dress up and walked him out of the castle. Snape strolled across the grounds, robes like a menacing cloud bellowed behind him. Harry glided after him, making small circles around the man not to travel too ahead. They parted at the gates outside and Harry swished into the air to quickly check if anyone was around.

No one was there, just them, the whole world had emptied, it seemed just to give them a couple more minutes. He shifted back, stood in front of Snape in only his shorts, barefoot on the snow-covered ground.

He was lifted in the air, not much just an inch, Snape's magic like a blanket wrapped around him against the cold February dawn.

They stood face to face, the same height now, with the little bit of magic. Harry brushed away the black ink from Severus' face and placed a kiss there instead. Then Snape disappeared and Harry turned back into an owl, before his feet touched the ground again.

He flew around for a while, then swished back into the dormitory. Ron opened the window for him, didn't ask many questions luckily, though he did have a smug smile on the edge of his lips. Especially since Harry lost his clothes since their last meeting.

"I reckon you didn't just talk this time," he said quietly, not to wake Neville.

Harry dressed up, then shook his head. "No."

"Wicked." He grinned then high-fived Harry as he passed him on the way to the bathroom.

Harry went down to have breakfast. The Great Hall was still empty, even the teachers mostly stayed away. Only Flitwick, Wallace and McGonagall were there, the latter drinking a glass of milk. Harry waved to her then sat to his table. She offered a tight-lipped smile in return.

He put some eggs and bacon onto his plate and started eating, trying to keep his mind away from all the things that happened last night, otherwise the dragon inside him would wake again and not even a gulp of tea would squeeze down his throat.

Wallace joined him on the way out, casually asked about his well-being, though Harry could tell he wanted to talk about something.

"I may have an interesting project for you," he said finally. Harry's interest perked. "You don't need to help, if you don't want to. N.E.W.T.s and everything, I'd understand. You can refuse. I had just a little talk with Professor Flitwick and it turns out he's a duelling champion. Did you know?"

"Yes, I heard," Harry answered with a shudder. The mention of that brought back some unwanted memories of Lockhart and the Duelling Club.

"Wouldn't it be fun?" Wallace said, sounding excited.

"What?"

"A Duelling Club, of course! You, him, and me, one lesson a week. I was a champion, too, a long, long time ago, when I was your age. I loved it. It was the best sport. The professor and I would teach them the basics, then they would practice with you. It would only take up one evening of your week. You don't even have to come to every session, if you feel like. But these kids love you and I've seen you with them. It would be a great opportunity for everyone."

Wallace wasn't like Lockhart he really knew what he was doing. Harry would have loved the idea, would even look up to the man himself, if not for the fact that he hated Snape. He hoped he would learn to forgive. A man like him would do so much good to Hogwarts.

"Why do I have the feeling you have a secret agenda, Professor?"

Wallace laughed, his eyes twinkled as he observed Harry. He had a mischievous smile as he said, "I know you want to be an Auror. But have you ever considered teaching, instead?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No, not really."

"You know, at the beginning of term, I was ready to just let you walk out of my class. To think I almost passed out on this great opportunity. Even I leaned from you. You're great at this."

Harry thought about it, but then just asked, "Why didn't you let me walk out? What changed you mind?"

"It pains me to admit, but Snape. He didn't let me. He said, if he knows it so well, why not let him teach it. And here we are."

Wallace stood, lifting his hand as if surrendering, apologizing.

He motioned towards the Head Table. "We're all thinking it, Potter. I'm just putting it out there." He backed away, his encouraging smile never faltering.

o.O.o

Wallace wasn't joking about the Duelling Club. That afternoon, right after classes, Harry received an owl and all three of them sat down. Wallace's enthusiasm caught on to Flitwick and eventually Harry, too. They agreed to start next Saturday. The only question was, with what. They needed to come up with something that would pull in people even though it was the middle of the semester already, show them why duelling was fun.

Harry's experience with it, with proper duelling at least, wasn't that good, he used to duel against either Voldemort or Malfoy – one was mostly about survival, the other… well… just a childish feud. He would call his fights with Snape more or a less a duel, and maybe this was what came closest to what the actual sport meant. They weren't fighting to hurt each other, though not even to win.

Harry lay in his bed that night, restless.

Thoughts of the Duelling Club soon turned to teaching. Harry couldn't get it out of his head. Not an Auror? He never really considered anything else besides being an Auror, a dark wizard catcher. It seemed like the good thing to do back then, when Moody suggested it. Fake-Moody, an impostor, a Death Eater. And now another one unknowingly suggested a different option.

Why is it that everywhere I turn you look back at me?

Neville and Ron were fast asleep, but Harry could not sink back to oblivion. He missed the weight of that head on his chest, the soft, feather-like tresses from beneath his fingers. Was this the future? Nights spent in a sleepless haze alone somewhere in London, while Snape stayed here?

Even if he did teach, where? He didn't even know where the other schools in England were. Leave the country? Leave Snape? Was that even an option? He couldn't come to Hogwarts, there were no open positions. Then what? As an Auror at least he'd be in London. He could come visit once in a while, daily, every night.

There was a knock on the window and Harry sat up in bed. He rummaged around for his glasses and by the time he found them, and looked out there to see what was making the noise, the rapping had continued, louder even and Ron and Neville stirred too.

"What the hell," Ron murmured sleepily.

Harry jumped out of the bed and rushed to the window.

"Nothing," he said, as he turned the handle and opened it. The black bird with his luminous feathers swished in silently like a shadow. Harry held out his arm for him to perch on.

Neville climbed to the end of his bed. "So pretty! Is it yours?"

He tried to pet him, but Harry quickly snatched away his hand. "Careful, he bites." He said.

The grackle screeched at Neville, who pulled his hand back right away. "Oh god, what a menace."

Harry took it to his bed without another word, or even a glance at Ron. He didn't dare. He was sure Ron had recognised the bird right away. He was too quiet.

The bird hopped off his arm and swished over Ron's bed, dropping something onto it. Ron lifted it to the air, examined it. It was a cigarette case, black and silver. Ron took it as an insult.

"Hey, you don't need to bribe me," he grunted.

The grackle squawked at him, then landed on Harry's pillow. Harry sat back down onto his bed, pulled the curtains.

They said goodnight again.

Harry lay back under the covers and the bird jumped onto his chest. He sat down there, without a word – a squeak, or even a twitter – nestled himself into Harry's blanket then tucked his head under his wing.

Harry just stared at him.

How dare you, you fluffed up ball of feather. How dare you come to me like this? I can't hold you like this.

He seemed so peaceful like this, truly just like a little bird who had taken refuge. Even his plumage seemed fluffier as if he had tried to hide from the cold night outside

"You look fat," Harry told him. The bird snapped up his head, yellow eyes glinted at him insulted.

Ron snorted into his pillow, then continued to snigger for a while.

Harry bit his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud. This was ludicrous. Snape was in their dormitory, in his bed.

They waited. Maybe an hour passed, Harry didn't pay attention he just watched those sharp yellow eyes. Neville started snoring, but Ron was still up, turning and twisting in his bed over and over. Every time he moved, the gleaming yellow eyes snapped at him, glared at him through thick velvet curtains.

Suddenly, Ron jumped out of his bed, Harry heard his bare feet slap against the wooden floor.

"I'll go smoke one," Ron whispered as he tiptoed to the door and opened it. "You have ten minutes."

"Make it twenty and I'll arrange for you and Granger a free weekend out of school," Snape said in a soft voice. Harry and the mattress both grunted at the sudden weight of a full-grown adult on them.

"Bloody fuck," Ron murmured sounding surprised as if only now did it dawn on him truly who the black bird was. He knew of course, but he didn't really grasp it until now, until he heard the voice.

You and me both mate, Harry thought.

The moment the door closed lips were on his. "Needed to see you," was all the explanation he received. Not that he needed more. He kissed hard and clung to Severus.

Oh god, now? Here? Why are you doing this to me?

A day ago, it was 'won't touch you' and now Severus couldn't seem to take his hands off Harry? What was happening to them? Harry had an explanation, he wasn't himself, barely anymore. He had pieces of himself missing, wandering over to Snape with every kiss, every brush of Snape's palm on his bare skin.

But what's your excuse Severus Snape?

How did Severus explain to Harry, to himself even that he was here now? Not that he necessarily needed to, he was welcome, he could always come. Always.

Harry's hand was between their bodies before he felt the hardness press against his legs.

He didn't think, he didn't want to. Thank god, there weren't many buttons, Snape was only wearing a shirt and his black pants, and Harry freed him, frantically reaching beneath layers until his shaking fingers wrapped around something hard as steel.

"Oh god," he cried, he, not Snape who was being stroked but he because he was holding another man's cock and he liked the sensation. He wanted to look down to see it. He wanted to turn them around and taste it. He had a taste for it too, it seemed. He wanted it, oh how much he wanted it.

He was so occupied with exploring the manhood in his hands he barely noticed Snape reaching beneath his pyjamas, too. Hands envelop him in a warm hold, he was released from his confines then they both gripped, shifted, reached whatever they could. Harry couldn't say who was touching who, it was a mess, a heady, beautiful, chaotic kind of mess, perfect for a night like this, for a man like Snape.

It was so desperate. Last night was about giving, about holding back; this was urgent. And not just because of Ron.

What changed? You? Me? Both of us?

This was about taking. They both took – pieces from each other. They took kisses, demanded attention. Severus thrust down, hips rolling and Harry cried out.

Neville snorted in his dream and Harry was silenced, a palm pressed against his mouth. His gaze connected with black eyes, fire flashed across them. Their bodies moved, was it him, was it Snape? Who knew, who cared, it was good. He bit the palm, Snape hissed, but he didn't stop, didn't pull away.

They shifted, pressed, pulled and stroked, it was quiet, quiet enough, Neville's snores were louder. Harry was almost there.

Lips were at his ear, he could feel them move, the heavy breathing was hitching occasionally. He suspected what was coming, a dirty secret, something highly inappropriate.

"I can't sleep. Not without you." Severus whispered instead.

I can't exist without you. The thought occurred in response.

There was nothing just brightness and he was coming. His whimpers were almost sobs, he tried to breathe through it, but it was too hard. He looked up, black eyes watched him, stared at him saw beyond him. Harry watched him wide eyed not wanting to miss the moment again.

"You're so…." Hot. Beautiful.

Severus' whole body quivered, he bit his lip, but his grunts still were loud, his deep voice carried in the dark. Harry could feel it with his hand. The hard member twitched weakly on his palm and his fingers didn't stop, he did not allow mercy, he kept rubbing him. Severus keened his body jerked violently. He was so beautiful like this.

While Snape was trying to catch his breath, curious, Harry pulled his hand back up from between their bodies. Severus watched him, the blackness of his eyes bled into the darkness of the room. It was almost surreal.

Harry watched the opalescent fluid on his palm. It was just like his. Nothing special, seen the stuff a million times. And yet…

Snape made him into a different person. He had so many different needs now. The need to kiss Severus, hold him. Fly with him. Protect him. Feel Severus around him, in him.

Severus gripped his wrist. His black eyes flashed.

To taste him. Everywhere.

Harry licked it, not just a tiny bit, not just a sample. He dragged his tongue all the way over it.

Snape choked a little, interlaced their fingers, kissed Harry deep. Tongue brushed against his, the flavours mixed, it was a perfect haze.

"There's only one thing more depraved than tasting myself in your mouth…" Severus moaned then thrust his tongue into wet heat and licked around.

"What?" Harry asked almost afraid of the answer.

"Coming inside you and then licking my own spunk from your arse." Snape answered without shame.

"Fucking hell, Severus," Harry hissed, his body stretching up on its own, wanting the images in his mind to be reality.

"Don't be mistaken, Mr. Potter, I may appear well-mannered, but there is not a shred of decency in me. I probably imagined my cock stretching your tight little arse in more ways than physically possible."

"You're still too decent to actually fuck me in my dormitory, though." Harry teased, his voice borderline disappointed.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Give me an hour and we can wake up Longbottom with your screams, if that's what you want. Hell, they can fire me for all I care as long as I can be inside you and traumatize that fumbling idiot in the meanwhile." He smirked.

"Well then I'm afraid, me and my tight little arse will remain un-fucked for tonight, because I'd rather you not get fired," Harry smiled.

"Then shut that dirty mouth of yours and go to sleep," Severus suggested in a low voice before he added, "Besides, I intend to take my time with you for the first time. It won't be just a quick shag in the darkness, I can promise you that. I'll make you beg for every inch, Potter, and let me tell you there are a lot of inches to beg for."

Just as Harry was about to disregard his previous concern about Severus' employment Ron came back, carefully opening the door at first and when he heard no objection, he stepped in. He said nothing just went to his bed, the scent of lavender and tobacco drifted after him.

"Appreciate it, Mr. Weasley." Snape wanted to say, but got stuck half-way. His voice was hoarse and croaky, barely there as if he had just woken up from a coma.

There was only silence coming from Ron for a while, then he snorted. "Merlin's balls, Harry, what have you done to the poor bloke." He fell back to bed and said nothing else.

What indeed, Harry wondered. This was the same man who did not dare lie down next to him. And yet now, he climbed under Harry's blanket like he was in his own bed, not in the bloody Gryffindor dormitory. Not that Harry had a single problem with that.

Bloody hell, you.

How was Snape not scared? What gave him such bravery to do this? Or was it desperation? Was it both? How did he dare take such a leap? Did he trust his wings so much? Or did he trust Harry to fly after him if he fell?

Harry lifted his arm and Severus came, pressed to his side, laid his head on Harry's chest. He came freely and nestled into the warmth, where he belonged.

Just what had they started?

o.O.o

A single digit pressed against his lips, signalling him to stay quiet. Harry opened his eyes. Severus was leaning over him. There was darkness everywhere still. This time, Harry was sure it was still the middle of the night. Ron and Neville were both snoring quietly.

Severus raised an eyebrow all but questioningly at Harry, his expression asking, 'Any regrets?' Harry kissed the finger across his mouth, smiling. Severus pulled it away, seemed to linger for a moment, deciding how bad an idea it was, then he must have realized, bad ideas nowadays were as common as birds on the sky. He leaned in and closed the distance between them.

He kissed so gently. The stroke of his lips was soft as a touch of feathers. Black ink poured around them, like a second curtain, hiding them even from the sight of the crescent moon. Harry buried his fingers in it, didn't tug, just caressed it. He felt the tip of Severus' tongue brush against his lower lip, quenching his thirst, wetting his dry skin.

Tongues met in Harry's mouth, danced, sneaked over crooked barricades just to dance again. Harry went with him, wherever Severus lead, Harry would follow. Teeth nibbled on his lip carefully worrying them, one by one, then pulling just a little as if Severus would want to take that with him, too – another piece.

Severus leaned up on his elbows, he motioned towards the door. Harry nodded, understanding. They both got up, as quiet as possible. Severus looked around the room as he fastened his shirt, fingers working on buttons fast like spiders on a web. When done dressing, he pulled his hand over his chest to straighten out the wrinkles. Harry smiled to himself. God forbid, someone would see him look ruffled in Gryffindor Tower, in the boy's dorm, during the dead of the night, when he would be out the window in just a minute.

Black wand flashed in the night, a canary yellow spell chased the darkness away momentarily as it swished across the room and hit Neville's head. The boy grunted in his sleep, turned around, but never woke up, never seemed to be in pain either. Snape eyed Ron, too for a moment, his wand trained at his sleeping form under thick covers. He looked at Harry, letting him decide Ron's fate. Harry shook his head no, then Severus lowered his arm.

Snape walked to door, the floorboards never creaked under him as if he would weight nothing, as if he would just glide in the air. Harry followed him, with a little more noise, then they went out, down the staircase, past several other doors leading to other bedrooms. The wand never disappeared from Severus' hand, Harry suspected in case they met someone.

The Common Room was empty. Embers still glistened in the fireplace. It was cleaner now; house elves had done their job well. Not a single torn homework remained around.

Severus went to the window, opened it, breathed in the fresh air. He looked at Harry.

"You understand how dangerous this was?" He asked quietly. His tone wasn't reproachful, but serious.

Harry nodded.

"You understand if someone finds out about this, us, I am done for? My reputation is torn enough already, this would end my career."

The word 'us' had warmth pooling in Harry's stomach, but he just nodded.

"I will not be blamed for this. I did not seduce you. I did not trick you. I did everything in my power to resist you. This is your fault as much as mine. You are an adult, capable of making your own decisions, choices, mistakes. You understand that?"

Harry nodded again, the previous warmth gone already. His heart was clenching, aching. Blame? Fault? Mistakes?

"This did not happen because of my magic. You understand? It happened because of us. You and me. Both of us. We are the reason, we are to blame. Not magic. Not just me. Not just you. Us."

Harry nodded.

"Say it."

Pieces of you in me; pieces of me in you. "Not just me. Not just you. Us." Harry said. He swallowed hard.

Severus stepped up to him, buried his hand in Harry's tousled hair. He pressed his forehead to Harry's.

"You understand why this should never, ever happen again?"

He understood, very much so. He understood the dangers, the risks, he understood what was at stake. Yet still, he didn't want to let go. Not this. Not ever. But he made a decision regarding Severus once, a selfish one. He had destroyed the potion, not because that was the best for Snape, but because he wasn't willing to let go. He could not always think so selfishly. It wasn't his career at stake, his reputation, but Severus'.

His heart was sore, burning like an open wound.

Eyes closing, he breathed out, "Yes."

"Good," said Snape, then Harry felt lips against his. Just one last kiss, a farewell, then Severus pulled back slightly, whispered, "I shall be back tomorrow night."

Harry's heart missed a beat. He grasped Severus' arm before he would turn into a grackle. "What?"

"I told you, I cannot sleep without you." Snape sighed, a long, deep breath in and out. "No, that is not true. I do not want to sleep without you."

Arms sneaked around him and Harry was held in a firm embrace. Severus kissed Harry's temple, pressed his lips against it as he said in a soft voice, "Falling has never felt so… enticing," he had uttered the last word quiet and shuddering, as if it physically hurt him.

Then Snape turned into a bird and Harry's arms fell back to his side as he watched the grackle swish out of the open window. His iridescent feathers reflected the light of the moon.

"Bloody hell, Snape," Harry murmured as he went to the window and leaned on the sill, his gaze following the black bird until the darkness swallowed him. "You're making me fall in love with you. You understand that? Because I sure as hell don't…"