The homesickness hadn't yet kicked in. Everything was new and strange. The children were arriving in just over a week, and the castle was large and empty. They ate at eight a.m., noon, and five p.m., and a small spread would be laid out in each year group's common room at ten p.m..
At breakfast, a pot of tea stood in front of them. Professor Nilsen, the lower years' Defence and Potions professor, informed them that it had been ordered in specially to honour the new British teachers. Breakfast consisted of sweetened flatbread, porridge, muesli, fruit, and pumpkin juice. Lunch was open sandwiches, and the main meal was food Harry had never come across before. For their first welcome dinner, all the faculty ate seasoned minced meat and onions, fried into small cakes and simmered in gravy, with mashed potatoes and swede on the side.
The staff were enamoured with them both, and either were not aware, or did not care, about Severus' past. They spent the days on lesson plans, exploring the Institute, and wandering the nearby village.
Much like at Christmas in Fourth Year, one would choose their menu option, and declare it aloud to their dinner plate. Harry charmed the menu into English whilst he learnt the language, and resolved to try everything. On their second day, he dug into deer steak with caramelised whey cheese. Severus chose salted cod with cabbage, and eyed Professor Petrova's pungent fermented trout, on which she was spreading copious quantities of butter and sour cream. Professor Andriy Kolisnychenko, the headmaster, informed them he was tucking into air-dried rib of sheep and boiled carrots.
"How are you settling into the life of the Institute?" asked Andriy.
Severus looked at Harry and indicated that he should respond for the both of them. "It is a very beautiful country. I had never left Western Europe before, but already had a good impression of the school from the students I met at the Triwizard Tournament."
"But of course," he said, nodding. "International harmony is the key. Perhaps vee should run the tournament again." He winked at him and chewed on a rib.
"I would oppose that motion for now. Trouble follows Professor Potter wherever he goes." Sev topped up Harry's wine glass.
Harry leaned in to add, "I like the quiet life, Andriy."
When Harry had informed Kreacher that they were moving to Norway, the elf's ears drooped. Harry offered him the option to move to Hogwarts, be free, or join them, and he jumped at the chance to come with them. He was proud to be the personal elf of two teachers, and wore the blood-red linen with honour. It was a bonus that Harry didn't have to order him around any more, and could request Severus' favourite food. It comforted him to know that Kreacher would never be lonely in the school.
In some ways, the castle had similarities to Hogwarts. Somnus swooped in at breakfast, just to say 'hello' as Hedwig used to do, and nip pumpkin juice into his beak. There were statues that lined the corridors, and as he found out in the staff meeting, there was even an unintelligible school song.
Harry was worried about disciplining wayward children, yet eagerly anticipated the start of term. There was no house point system, and the only punishment was schooling in isolation. An infraction earned four days of sitting with a ghost for company, listening to the lesson in a separate area of the school. The student ate alone until the ten o'clock supper bell. He had been reliably informed that this was an excellent deterrent for rule breaking. Still, he had never taught before, unless he counted the D.A., and so he worked off his stress by running laps through the tracks in the local spruce and birch woods.
The full moon was on Sunday, the 2nd of September. It was a week before the children arrived, and Harry and Severus explored the grounds under the cover of moonlight.
Øverbygd had forests of pine that stretched for miles and miles. In daylight, crowns of snow were visible on the tip of the mountains. Tonight, it was three degrees, silent, and frosty.
The valley enclosed the school a few miles from the Målselva River. To Muggles, it appeared as an impassable ravine. On one side of the river lay a road, and they raced upstream on the opposite side under the cover of the trees. Harry loved to breathe in the smell of the pine, and Severus loved to gallop through them.
They arrived at a clearing and stopped in the middle. Harry reared on his hind legs. Severus blew out air between his lips, tail swishing. He pointedly looked in the corner, his ears alert and forwards.
This evening, Severus had a surprise for him. A very alarmed witch, swathed in silver furs and a pointed hat, stood waiting at an easel. Harry knew he had been plotting something, and going for walks alone. When she caught sight of Harry and Severus, she shook off her fur muff and waved her wand in a complicated fashion. A wall of bright blue flames burst forth behind her.
Harry sat back on his haunches and pressed his neck against Severus' flank. They both stood stock-still, observing the artist at work. Within a couple of minutes, her hand had stopped shaking.
Harry found it difficult to measure the passing of time in his werewolf form. It could've been minutes or hours when the artist approached them, flourishing a camera and a Lumos'd wand. The woman returned to her equipment in the corner, quenched the flames, and Disapparated.
Harry bounded up and down in excitement and followed Severus, who sprinted back the way they came.
When Harry came to, he distantly remembered Sev carrying him under the Invisibility Cloak and tucking him into bed. He ached in the way you would after running a race. Everything hurt. Severus was exhausted and cold. Thankfully, Severus had been sleeping much better in the last couple of weeks. Harry cast a wandless Warming Charm, and placed Severus' icy hands in his armpits. The most northern part of Norway was no place for a normal horse. "I am no teenager," Sev muttered. "I'm sorry…you may need to curl up in our quarters from November onwards."
"It's not exactly Scotland in May." His face lit up. "When will we see the painting?"
Sev smirked. "Good things come to those who wait."
Harry groaned, rolled his eyes and bashed him over the head with a pillow. "You're so annoying." He then pulled him close, allowed Severus to feed him some painkilling potion, and they both slept until late morning.
Later, Severus gradually awoke to the sensation of being watched, and the distant sounds of the record player.
"Had you ever considered becoming an Animagus before?" asked Harry.
Severus yawned and stretched. "Decidedly not. The magic itself is tedious. You can go to Azkaban. It may go horribly wrong. Moreover, you overlook that one does not get to decide the form one takes. It was equally likely that I would be a killer whale, or a peculiar bird not found on our shores. Hardly conducive to espionage, or jaunts about town."
Harry tucked a lock of hair behind Severus' ear. "Well, I think it suits you really well. You're magnificent." His eyes widened, and he asked, "Will you take me horse riding?"
"No."
"Please, oh, please?"
"No."
Harry sighed and waggled a threatening finger. "You haven't heard the last from me on this." He used Severus' stomach as a pillow. "Anyway, just my luck I'd be a goldfish or something. I'm really glad you did it. Makes a huge difference, you being there."
Severus smirked. "No doubt I can tolerate you better when in mammalian form."
"Well, I find I can tolerate you very well. In fact," Harry said, whirling a lock of Severus' hair around his finger, "I can't keep my eyes off you." Sev didn't answer; his dark eyes bored into Harry, and his face flushed in pleasure. He took this as his cue to go on. "I want to touch you. Smell you." He shuffled around to straddle him, and brushed his lips against Severus' ear. "I want to get drunk on your taste. And I want people to know that you are mine, and I am yours. Your delicious long cock belongs to me—"
Severus kissed him deeply, passionately, savagely. He flipped him around, and forced him into the bed. Harry tried to get nearer by wrapping his legs around his waist. He ground his groin into Severus' who snarled in desire, eyes half closed. "You will be the death of me," he growled, biting on his lobe.
Whilst on paper it would appear Harry was the one in control, in reality he was anything but. He rutted against him heedlessly, his eyes squeezed shut, lost to the sensation.
Severus banished Harry's underwear, and then his own, and Harry gasped at the change in friction. Wanting to see more, feel more of Severus, he unbuttoned his nightshirt and feasted his eyes on Severus' chest, the light dusting of black hair on his pecs, his flat stomach, and the dark wiry curls that formed a V towards his cock. He ground against him, and pushed the shirt off his shoulders to lick his collarbone, desiring to see Sev undone as much as he was. He was forced to break his attention on Severus' chest, as his breath came out in grunting pants in time with the rocking of their hips.
Severus sucked on Harry's neck, and said, "Loath as I am to stop, I need to rub in your potion. I take particular delight in it, and it will make you strong."
Harry was pliant as Severus smoothed the oil into his skin, and he sighed as his aches and pains turned back into contentment. Sev murmured into his hair, "Where else does it hurt?" ready to heal anything he couldn't see.
His night around the Hogwarts grounds with a magnificent horse was now a dreamlike memory to treasure, something he shared just with Severus. "I'm fine." Harry caught his lover's face. He needed his weight on top of him. He needed to watch his expression as Sev entered him. He needed his sweat to drop on him. "I need you to make love to me."
Nodding, Severus prepared him, and sank into him with an agonising slowness that set alight every part of his body. Sunlight streamed through the magical windows and highlighted perspiration on Severus' forehead. The bed squeaked as they rocked together. He squeezed him in further, wanting to be split in half. Severus kissed him, told him he was doing so well, and kissed him some more, and they were electric and desperate and finally free. Harry was undone, and came, fingers raking his back, Severus' head cradled against his neck. He then watched him shudder in pure relief, upper lip pressed white against his teeth, neck taut. He drank in the bliss on his face, and pulled him in tight to better feel his body warmth, his panting, his reality.
"Do you remember the Mirror of Erised?" Harry asked, some time later. Sev nodded. "It showed me my family. I would visit all the time until Professor Dumbledore moved it, and warned me against the madness you could get just staring at a dream." He stroked Severus' hair.
He didn't answer for a moment, and Harry heard him breathe in deeply. "I did not dare to look into that mirror," he said. "If I looked today, I surely would see you holding me just as you are now."
"Oh." He pressed his forehead against Severus'. "That's good." He nodded against Severus' face. "That's very good," he whispered. Severus cupped his face reverently and kissed him softly. "All you've done is heal me, and teach me how to love and be loved in return. You bring me life."
"You are being overly sentimental. We've missed breakfast." Severus pulled him into his lap and rubbed his calves.
"You should marry me." Harry lined up his palm to Severus', to measure Severus' fingers in comparison to his.
Severus tucked the blanket over their legs. "I would like that." He interlinked their fingers, then dragged his nose through Harry's hair to mess it up even more. "I would like that very much indeed."
THE END