Hello again lovelies! I'm so grateful for the overwhelming support you all give me for this story!
Enjoy!
Chapter 76 - An outside view
They drifted through the night – hot and cold, a tangle of limbs and coils. The tall spires and thick walls of Hogwarts sheltered them. The smells of the garden of Riddle manor welcomed them. Harry was flying high in the air without needing a broom for support, while Voldemort sat in the compartment of the Hogwarts express with a bunch of rowdy Gryffindors and smiled. It was a dream like neither of them had seen or shared before, one with only vague awareness of what was going on. The sleeping men curled closer to each other in body and mind, allowing this new experience of a non-lucid dream. When the rays of the morning sun gently rose them, Harry found that his cheeks were wet.
The teen had been afraid that his partner would have left before the sun could rise, but Voldemort was there, although he'd turned away and refused to show his face. Harry didn't comment on in, feeling the storm of confusion in the man's mind. He thus merely trailed his fingers across the back of Voldemort's head before getting up. With sadness, Harry realised that the flower that had been taped to the front of his robes had been utterly destroyed during the night. Well, he had none to blame for that but himself… gently, he gathered what was left of it and put it on the windowsill.
''Say, its Necromancy on plants possible?'' he asked aloud, caressing the mangled blue thing as it bathed in light.
It took a while before he got a response that was more than some incoherent sounds. If the other had experienced the same night as he did, Harry could understand, feeling utterly overwhelmed and trying to focus on something else to keep his sanity intact. To not ask Voldemort to simply keep sleeping and spend eternity like that. Odd. He'd tried so hard to keep the Dark Lord out of his thoughts at the start, whereas he'd like nothing more than to melt together now. Soft footsteps sounded behind him as Voldemort walked up to the windowsill as well, standing close behind him while peering over Harry's shoulder - which wasn't especially hard, being much taller.
''Not like you might think. That is why Herbology is such an important subject to be taught, as spells to heal or revive animal matter does not work in this case. Cells of plant life are fundamentally different than ours. More intricate and structured. That does not make it more difficult… quite the opposite.'' Voldemort held his hand over the remains of the flower. While the torn petals remained as they were, the ones still attached to the stem brightened. A few seconds later, he was handed a perfectly fresh flower. Harry noticed it wasn't exactly the same as the first time he'd been given this, as it had sprouted roots.
''Plants do not have souls, but they teem with life. This can be observed in nature as well. Seeds preserved for thousands of years can grow into viable plants still, while putting cuttings in the right soil can cause them to take root and form new plants. Add magic to the equation and there's very little that cannot be done.''
''Does that not mean that mages could bring the solution to things like… forest fire and other environmental destruction?'' Harry asked in confusion.
''Of course. Most conservation magic is not performed for one reason alone: out of fear of discovery, for it would be too suspicious if forests grew back overnight. One more reason why the lack of free practise of magic is detrimental. As soon as we have created our own dimensions, deforestation of the earth will be one more fear scrapped off the list. We can simply grow our own forests again, while disasters from the muggle side cannot touch it. Remember the forest of Brocéliande? The fire mostly affected the Muggle half as the flames only travelled through several small points of entry and could thus quickly be quelled.''
Harry wondered if it was really that simple. He hadn't thought in detail before about how these bubbles worked or what outside factors could still influence them. The experimental one around Riddle manor suggested that air, water, heat and light from the outside still reached it, as it wasn't like Voldemort had created an artificial sun or weather effects… What would be with acid rain? Radiation? How had the invisible barrier stopped the fire from entering the magical side of Merlin's forest everywhere?
When asking about it, the Dark Lord shook his head. ''You're the first to express such concerns,'' he commented fondly. ''Always searching for the how and why. Others merely agree that everything will work out due to magic. Which isn't entirely incorrect, as our powers often instinctively adapt to our idealised outcomes, but you are right to worry. These are all aspects to consider when forming barriers. A different dimension does not mean that we are entirely cut off from what is outside of it, especially when leaving certain points of entry. The caster has to actively decide what to allow while forming the dimension. It could become a very deadly trap otherwise. Imagine trying to form a dimensional barrier around yourself without a source to replenish the warmth inside. That is the reason why I did not create it instantly, rather risking discovery than a preventable death. I had to spend a long time perfecting how I wished to adapt the already existing spells for dimensional shifting to allow for full enclosure while remaining inhabitable. As it is now, I could even remove the entrance while inside, which would not affect the stability or functionality of the bubble dimension.''
''Sounds like a ton of work.''
''I do consider it part of my profession, so I do not mind it taking up time. As the base enchantment already existed in tried and tested forms, it's not as if I had to start from scratch. Finding ever-improving ways to hide spans the entire history of our kind, so dimensional shifting is well-recorded. It is one of the branches of heavy magic that is even encouraged due to the Statute of Secrecy. Not that it has much impact on balance, as there's little need for it in everyday life. Maintaining what is already there is light magic again, only the initial casting requires sacrifices.''
''Which, specifically?'' Harry asked, while he dared to lean in, so the back of his head hit Voldemort's chest. ''I can't imagine what would be required for a spell of that magnitude. And it can't be a blood sacrifice if it's so openly accepted.''
''Possessions. Objects you have long-lasting ties with. To create something so ethereal as dimensional folds, you have to give up something material. Although giving up is perhaps not the most accurate wording. One of your most prized possessions will be enclosed behind the created barrier forever and cannot be taken out anymore. Sucked through the cracks as an object of permanence to sustain the spell, if you follow.''
Harry wasn't sure if he really did. It was early in the morning and his head was still too filled with cotton to grasp the strange ways in which magic functioned. ''I don't understand why it would count as a sacrifice if the object can still be accessed,'' he admitted.
Voldemort chuckled. ''Your thinking is too literal. Is blood or hair truly something you sacrifice when knowing it will replenish or grow back? Logically, it should not. Magically, of course it is. It matters for that moment, for magic to latch onto something to allow it to be set in motion, feed off the sacrifice to create. That moment of loss, the displacement of an object drenched in emotions from this world to forever be trapped in another is plenty powerful enough, even if you can reach it again afterwards.''
''So can you decide which object you use? Or is it a chaotic sacrifice like those of weather magic where some random storm of some kind hits you at an unspecified point in time?''
The Dark Lord was silent for a moment and Harry could feel something akin to 'interest' trickling into his foggy brain. ''A chaotic sacrifice?'' he muttered. ''That is an interesting term. Where did you read that?''
Harry frowned, pretty sure it was something he'd either read or heard, but it was odd that Voldemort didn't seem to know it. Then, it clicked. ''I think Ron coined that term to be honest. He's still salty about the storms disrupting Quidditch training whenever he least expects it.'' Ron really did get the worst end of the stick when it came to their attempts to create lightning storms, whereas Harry sat cosily within the walls of Hogwarts and hardly took notice when particularly strong gusts of wind and sleets of rain battered the castle.
More silence. Then: ''Ronald Weasley is delving into weather magic? My my, your Defence Association has an even more interesting curriculum than you let on.'' Harry risked glancing upwards, catching the familiar glint of unhealthily hungry curiosity in Voldemort's ruby eyes. Remembering in time that he didn't want to give away his Animagus training until actually succeeding, Harry tried to avoid answering directly, instead pulling the focus of their conversation back to the previous topic. ''So can you decide on the object?'' he stubbornly repeated his previous question. By the upturn on thin lips, he fully well knew that Voldemort had caught his attempt.
''Yes. As it becomes the focal point to which the dimension is anchored, it needs to be touched while casting. On a side note, it cannot be used on living matter of any kind.''
''You tried that?'' Harry asked absentmindedly, rolling the stem of the fresh flower in between his fingers.
''Not I. With how old dimensional magic is, surely many attempts have been made, but the last and recorded one was in the 1780's, where a witch thought to use the results of the sacrifice as a bonus. She'd stolen a child and managed to successfully keep it hidden for a while. When people still came to track down the girl more than fifteen years later and the by then young woman began to wonder about the outside world, the witch wished to hide her in a separate dimension. Thus, she attempted to create a dimensional wall by using the child as her dearest possession to both hide the woman and trap her inside for eternity at the same time.''
Thoroughly disturbed by the story, especially since he'd noticed some sadistic undertones in the other's smooth voice, Harry was almost afraid to ask how it had ended. It turned out he didn't need to ask.
''It created an abomination,'' Voldemort gleefully spoke, wrapping cold arms around Harry to cage him in. ''The witch fully believed that her 'daughter' would make a good sacrifice, but had failed to realise that magic does not recognise living beings as being able to be owned by others. We can be linked, or even intertwined, but it is a very human concept to claim ownership over children, spouses or even pets. This is not understood by the forces of nature. What transpired was thus an interesting battle between the strong willpower and beliefs of the caster - which affected their magic in the way that an attempt to complete the ritual was made – and the laws of magic itself. As expected, the witch ultimately lost. In an extreme case of splinching, the girl was torn apart by conflicting forces.''
Harry swallowed heavily, for once feeling trapped in Voldemort's arms instead of content. ''Maybe I should have breakfast before talking to you about any kind of magic,'' he faintly spoke, trying to hide the chilling horror he felt at the story and – more than that – the way Voldemort recited it. As if the knowledge gathered from this tragedy was more important than what had happened to an actual, innocent person caught in the middle. It made him deeply uncomfortable to be reminded so starkly of what kinds of things piqued Voldemort's interest most.
Instead of following up on the disturbing story and all the uneasy feelings that came with it, Harry instead opted for addressing something else that had been on his mind: ''I keep thinking of what Sirius said,'' he confessed. ''And Barty too.'' As expected, Voldemort tensed up, withdrawing mentally at the mention of both men. Harry wondered how they were doing right now, Sirius had left in such an unstable state and Barty had been pretty upset afterwards too… having Voldemort's anger directed at him hadn't helped. However, as Voldemort would surely not indulge him in answers about either, that was not his current focus, so Harry pressed on: ''Was there any truth to the way we were perceived? That what we did was not only inacceptable to him, but others too? After Narcissa's positive reaction, I didn't think there'd be any trouble arising from dancing and talking…''
The tight embrace loosened minimally as the Dark Lord heaved a heavy sigh. ''I was admittedly lax, too caught up in wishing to parade you around to care about the fine details of social proceedings. The dancing was not the problem. It may have made them aware of our intimacy, but that is perfectly acceptable for courting. Narcissa herself suggested that I open the Ball and knew that I'd given you my escort invitation.'' Within those few sentences, Harry's emotions had ping-ponged from offended about 'parading around' to flattered about 'our intimacy'.
To address neither, he instead focused only on the last part. ''True, she was thrilled about it, in fact,'' Harry mentioned. ''Which is why I don't understand where the problem lies.''
He was unfortunately released, Voldemort walking back to the bed to resume this conversation in comfort, settling down against several propped-up pillows. The teen followed his example, looking at his partner in expectation.
''Likely a combination of a vast number of different factors, such as the amount of time we spent unaccompanied as well as that we raised a privacy ward. Black's accusations didn't help either, but he merely expressed the most extreme assumptions in the room. Additionally, my reputation of using illegal magic to kill and inflict pain is well-known, from what I heard from my followers afterwards, it wasn't such a stretch for most to jump to conclusions about other questionable magic I may use. Keeping you at my side through mental manipulation such as the Imperius curse, or even a love potion was whispered by the tongues of the ignorant.'' His tone turned bitter. ''It's a complicated ordeal, because of course no two people had identical assumptions about my motivations or methods. People were sceptical about how genuine our relationship is, how it was established, what each of our ambitions are... On top of all that, we broke with standard Pure-blood protocol, both in the way of not having any official contracts drawn up that would make this a family matter over a personal one as usual, and that I made it clear to have more authority over your position than the Malfoys do. Then finally, amidst all of these etiquette breaches, Black brought up your age and the fact that he, as your godfather, does not agree with this. It made it all the more difficult.''
Put like this, Harry understood why the public display of their relationship had been controversial in many ways. Everyone present had a different view on them due to background information and expectations. ''So, some think you pulled me over to your side using underhanded tactics to get rid of an enemy, while others simply have a problem with the fact that neither of us play the same games that Pure-bloods are familiar with when it comes to relationships and stuff?''
''Those could certainly be two viewpoints amongst many. I should have foreseen it… my only justification is that I find it hard to recall how it was before.''
Harry turned on his side to properly look at Voldemort in hopes of reading his expressions better, as the feelings of melancholy he received made little sense. ''Before what?''
The Dark Lord closed his eyes and softly spoke: ''Before the height of war, before my death, before my absence from social interactions with anyone but my most devoted… The general public was of course always aware of that I was not upheld to the same set of rules as they were, yet I tried to keep up appearances to not cause dissidence. I do attempt to follow the laws I wish to implement on others, after all. During the war, that all wasn't so important. In the whirl of forming an army and subjugating the country to my will, hardly anyone seemed to care about whether I followed the norms of relationships to the letter.''
Knowing he was speaking of Regulus, Harry finally decided to interrupt to throw in his two cents. ''Maybe it wasn't intentional, but in the past, you mostly kept your relationship behind closed doors from what I understood. During events, there was nothing more than dancing, Regulus complained often that he wasn't the focus point of your attention for most of the time during meetings. Other than that, you always invited him to your place. No-one saw that you weren't following courting procedures.'' From the limited knowledge he'd gathered from Draco, Harry figured that the whole relationship process in Pure-blood society was pretty much reversed from what he – and Voldemort – had grown up with as accepted norms.
''It is uncanny how thorough your knowledge about that is,'' the man crabbily replied, studying Harry now with narrowed his eyes. Harry chose not to respond to that, as recountings of parties weren't even the most detailed parts that Regulus had eternalised. ''You may have a point, admittedly. But let us not dwell on the past too much, the future is what matters. Having this chaos influence the first impression of my people after my return was unfortunate. We'll have to be more careful about that next time.''
''We can't exactly give a second first impression though… I mean, what's done is done,'' Harry spoke, mentally trying to list things they could do to minimise some of the damage. Having Lucius or Narcissa vouch for them to close acquaintances might be a good step, as well as not being so touchy next time. It sucked, but Harry realised that it would be incredibly selfish to insist on being so close when Voldemort's reputation could influence their future.
His thoughts were interrupted by a chuckle that sounded slightly insulting in a way. ''Evan, come now. I was prepared to wipe the minds of the entire Wizengamot during a court procedure to directly influence their knowledge of the outcome of said hearing. That's far more difficult than taking a few minutes of memories away during a party, where everyone's minds can easily fill the gaps by thinking they spoke to their associates a bit longer instead.''
''They… don't remember?'' Harry asked, flabbergasted, sitting up now in shock. ''None of them?''
He received a pleased hum. ''Only partially, I found that to be the wisest decision. Apart from us, only two people can recall in detail what transpired after our first two dances: Black, as he left early, and one of my Death Eaters who performed the Obliviation charm as I still want Black to forget as well. As quickly as possible.''
Harry didn't like that implication at all. ''First of all, Sirius being obliviated would not only affect his memories of a few strands of conversation he picked up, but also his angry rant and what happened after. That's a whole lot more invasive than what you just described. Memory charms can cause brain damage, and Sirius already has mental issues. Secondly, the only follower who'd be able to reach Sirius right now is Snape, isn't it?''
''The only one who has a chance of reaching Black is Snape, in case your godfather went back to the Order and isn't running rampage in the countryside, howling his sorrows to the moon. I shall speak with Severus today to be filled in on the current situation regarding Black.''
A loud ringing suddenly sounded all through the house. Just like yesterday, and the previous weekend, Harry jumped at the noise. The Malfoys apparently used a spell as some kind of morning alarm to let everyone in the house quickly know that breakfast was to be served in thirty minutes.
''Malfoys and their damned bells,'' Voldemort grumbled, massaging the stubby skin around his ear holes with pale fingers. ''This contraption already existed several generations ago and has become decidedly less pleasant over time as my hearing became more… finely tuned.''
Harry was a hundred percent sure that was just a way to avoid saying he was sensitive in any way, shape or form and stifled a grin at the thought. ''I guess I have to get ready now then. Are you… errr… staying?'' For while it had been great to wake up with Voldemort still there and talk so much, conversation at the breakfast table might get a little awkward if he brought his guardians' boss. The Malfoys not remembering yesterday would make it even harder to confess he'd invited Voldemort to stay the night. The Dark Lord himself appeared to have no such reservations, however.
''Of course, I also still need to discuss some of yesterday's events with Lucius and Narcissa. Although I will quickly return home beforehand to check on Nagini. I had Bartemius take her with him yesterday when it became clear I was staying.'' The way he said Barty's name, coupled with the ire that instantly rose around them again, told Harry that his friend's actions hadn't been forgiven yet. Harry once again had to restrain the urge to ask how Barty was doing, but when Voldemort's mood turned erratic even at the mention of his right hand, Harry decided that that wouldn't be a good call. Slowly, the Dark Lord rose from the bed again and strode away, presumably to leave. Or so Harry thought for a moment, until realising that Voldemort had not headed for the exit.
''Uhm, that's the bathroom,'' he quickly said when a white hand landed on the doorknob.
He was met with a slightly confused look. ''Yes, that is where I was intending to go?'' the other answered, although the end of the sentence sounded more like a question.
''Oh. I just thought… you were going home,'' he answered, slightly puzzled.
''I will,'' the other answered slowly. ''After a thorough shower and a change of robes. You'll surely agree that the bathrooms here are far more elaborate than the tub at home.'' Having said that, he entered without waiting for Harry's answer. The teen was completely frozen as water started to run. All previous talks were spontaneously wiped from his mind as he was hit with the fact that Voldemort was currently naked on the other side of a thin wall in Harry's personal bathroom. He still stood rooted in the exact same spot when said man emerged later in a fresh robe. ''I never thought I would say this,'' Voldemort mused when giving Harry a look. ''But I admit that I am at times grateful that our mental bond is limited to feelings instead of exact thoughts. Do get a grasp on yourself before breakfast, please.''
He was gone without so much as a hug before Harry could form a coherent answer, and instead of sinking into the ground like he wanted to, Harry finally willed his legs to move. He could just as well have this mortified crisis while doing something productive like showering himself, because he sure did reek after sleeping in his robes. Sniffing his sleeves, he noticed that at one point, he might have spilled a drink on himself. Lovely. Undressing, he left the robes in a pile to sort out later and tentatively stepped into the shower. It didn't help to know who had just vacated this spot. While water ran across his back, Harry repeatedly hit his forehead against the pristine tiled wall in hopes of it interrupting his thoughts and finally relented to taking care of his growing problem by hand when all attempts to mentally expel the wild fantasies failed. He dearly hoped that the fact he couldn't currently feel Voldemort's emotions meant that the other was far away enough that the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to feel what Harry was doing either. Allowing himself to think back to yesterday's kiss, combined with memories of times he'd actually seen Voldemort naked was enough to fuel a very heated daydream about being pressed together in the shower that gave him release laughably fast.
Feeling both drained and rejuvenated as he finally returned to the bedroom, Harry quickly dressed, never having needed very long to throw on some clothes and flatten his hair somewhat. He spotted the wreath Voldemort had worn yesterday, now wilting on the nightstand. Maybe he should have asked to learn the spell he'd been shown earlier to rejuvenate it. The Gryffindor picked it up and caressed the dark red leaves, which had turned brown and brittle at the edges. As he stood there, postponing going down and starting the day, Harry thought about Voldemort's earlier words. Reluctantly, he was impressed by Voldemort's quick acting, yet it also concerned Harry that the man would so easily decide to mess with the minds of people as if he had the right to govern their very thoughts. What had he allowed them to recall exactly? Voldemort had said something about changing the memories of after their first couple of dances… that meant his speech about Harry being untouchable had been left intact, as well as the fact that Harry had been there to accompany him. It was a relief that he wouldn't need to entirely hide his closeness to Voldemort, likely only the fact that they weren't going about their relationship the 'proper' way.
What would the day bring? There were so many new impressions, new people and topics to discuss that it was hard to keep up. His mind was busy simultaneously analysing his time with Voldemort, Sirius' reaction and the revelation that the Dursleys had been killed as a favour to him. It was difficult to focus on one specific thing. Had anyone attempted to find his godfather yet? Should he confide in someone about knowing the murderer? Inhaling deeply, Harry tried to calm himself. One thing at a time, else he'd get nothing done at all. How he wished that Ron or Hermione would be here… Confiding in them about knowing the Dursley's killer would be a great relief. Harry smiled at the thought, but only for a moment before reality caught up with him. They'd want to know the why and how, none of which he could answer without revealing another part of the web he was caught in. Why he'd come into contact with a French Vampire in the first place, why this person felt grateful enough to Harry to pay back a blood debt, why he wouldn't go to the authorities about it…
Was there even anyone he could tell about this? Anyone at all? Whomever he could think of would either be too worried; attempt to convince him to do the 'right thing' by going to the Aurors, or report it to Voldemort, which he wished to avoid as long as a possibility existed that the Dark Lord would enact vengeance over the stupid concept of a stolen kill. It was a burden that he couldn't make lighter by sharing.
Just like he couldn't share the guilt over what had happened to Sirius last night. Even talking to Barty was not an option now if literally the only person who had been allowed to remember that outburst - for now – was Snape. He hoped his godfather had been smart enough to return to Grimmauld, as the Order would go into a frenzy if Sirius would be missing for a longer period of time. They probably all knew by now that Dumbledore's advice not to go out was largely ignored, but Sirius couldn't afford to simply disappear without a word for a couple of days.
Merlin, how could he have forgotten something so massively important as the way he controlled his godfather? Sirius trying to sabotage his relationship after all the pretty words of letting Harry forge his own path had left no room for anything but anger. Which should not have happened. He couldn't lecture Voldemort on better controlling emotions when not even able to handle this himself, could he? Damn, he'd really screwed up and didn't know how to fix it. It was well possible that Sirius would avoid him for the next couple of months or years now. Harry wouldn't blame the man if so. Even trying to imagine anyone having that kind of power over him was terrifying. It reminded him both of the split second in which he'd believed the Order's theories of being possessed and of the time where the Locket had tried to take hold of every aspect of Harry's life. If magic did not recognise ownership over others, then why did Magic such as this even exist? Harry miserably wondered. It would have been better if mages would never have been able to use their power to hold influence over other human beings, twisting magic's intent. And even Voldemort was guilty of doing so, wasn't he? Using the Imperius curse liberally in the first war was only one example.
He'd have to look into whether this bond could be broken somehow. Sirius couldn't live like this. It was inhumane. His guardians must have books on soul magic in their massive collection. Harry made a mental note to ask.
Thinking of Lucius and Narcissa reminded Harry that he hadn't kept track of time at all. Casting a Tempus told him that there were literally only twenty seconds left. Inwardly cursing, Harry practically ran through the halls, not wanting to leave anyone waiting for breakfast. ''Sorry,'' he breathlessly spoke when entering the dining room, where Draco just took a seat, while the others looked like they'd been there for a while already. Narcissa was reading a newspaper, elbow uncharacteristically propped up on the table and chin on her hand, and Lucius had been chatting quietly with someone Harry had not expected to see in the early morning.
Snape. Great.
Narcissa looked up as if disturbed. ''Ah, there you are. How are you feeling? I heard Severus needed to administer a potion.'' Her tone may be light, but Harry heard the disapproval in her voice. Draco, that little shit, didn't even try to hide his epicaricatic grin.
He ducked his head and sat down, trying not to look into either her judging eyes or at Snape's typical sneer. Harry tried not to read more into it, but it was hard to forget that the Potion master was now the only person in this room who still knew how close he and Voldemort had been last night. ''Err, the potion helped a lot, thanks'' he muttered, then noticed he wasn't the person to arrive last. Voldemort wasn't there, despite announcing he'd take breakfast with them. It was strange for the man to run late unless it was to an event where it would be considered fashionable. Breakfast decidedly was not such an occasion. Looking around the table, he also saw that there was no extra plate prepared. Had the man not mentioned anything, or changed his mind? Although he would likely give away more than he wanted, getting on his guardians' good side by warning them to be prepared was too good of an opportunity to pass up. And if Voldemort had mentioned to the Malfoys that he was busy with something else, Harry wanted to know too.
''Didn't Voldemort say he was joining?'' he asked nonchalantly.
''The… the Dark Lord?'' Narcissa asked, stumbling over her tongue and exchanging a nervous look with her husband. Clearly, they had not been given a heads-up at all.
Lucius looked far more composed and arched an eyebrow before he spoke up: ''I'm not certain how well that potion worked if you are this confused. The Dark Lord did not give orders to have his rooms prepared and went home last evening.''
Harry caught Snape's increasingly burning glare and was sure that the potion master absolutely hated not being able to take the opportunity to comment on Harry's indecency. Being the one who had to specifically erase memories about the two of them as a couple from the minds of others just had to eat Snape up inside. He was also the only one who knew that Voldemort had been in Harry's room and hadn't left it. While still trying to figure out whether to confess to inviting the Dark Lord for the night or letting it go in hopes it wouldn't come up since Voldemort appeared to be skipping breakfast after all, the doors opened to reveal the devil that had just been spoken about.
XxX
Potter again…. Potter, who was responsible for most of the unwanted drama in his life, had done it again. Resigned to his fate for today, Severus tried his best not to get too worked up over it, as he'd be the only one, with no support. Lucius and Narcissa surely deserved better than this, but they just had to be saddled with Potter. He gave his usual glare to keep the dunderhead on his toes, not that it was likely to work well with the Dark Lord hovering over the boy like a Dementor circling a particularly bright soul seconds before devouring it.
Severus schooled his expression, not wishing any judgement to show on his face as his Lord sat down on the empty chair to Potter's left, which he unapologetically moved much closer than it had been before. Closer than would be decent. Merlin, after yesterday's disaster - that Snape was still busy fixing – he'd expected them to be more subtle. Wide-eyed, Narcissa had enough sense to quickly call for an elf to deliver another plate and cutlery before the Dark Lord had spoken a single word.
As Snape subtly observed the pair, the thought came to mind that it was also relieving to see there was enough humanity left in the fearsome wizard that he was not immune to whatever concoction of mixed hormones Potter had stirred up in his brain. Severus had silently shared some of the worries he'd heard passed through the room last night, that the Dark Lord had twisted the Boy-Who-Lived around his fingers to form his own little soldier to play with and sacrifice, until seeing how shockingly little control his Lord showed around the boy. It was different from the only other time Severus had seen them interact, where the man had been very much the main player of his own game. If he wouldn't know better, Severus would almost say that the Dark Lord had actually fallen for the insufferable brat.
''My faithful followers. Were you successful in your respective tasks yesterday evening?''
Snape quietly took a sip from his coffee while Lucius dutifully replied: ''Of course, my Lord'', then gave a curt nod as well. He couldn't be sure about Lucius', but his own task had not been particularly difficult, simply time-consuming. He'd been told exactly which memories to remove, and no-one was to be spared, not even his friends. Snape knew that the only reason why he still retained those memories to this point, was because Black had to be Obliviated too, and Snape was the best one for that job. He had no illusions that he'd remember afterwards. Certainly, he could make a copy to be reviewed in a Pensieve after the memory wipe, but surely the Dark Lord would have a thorough check of his mind exactly to find such unwise actions.
''As an additional note, I overheard whispers about the Carrows inviting some who expressed critique yesterday. I assume it was to teach those who defied you a lesson, but it may be worth investigating all the same,'' Severus noted. It was odd for the twins to organise anything actively, but they also were fond of torture and may just use this as an excuse. Lucius and Narcissa, not recalling much outspoken critique for obvious reasons, exchanged a glance, but kept silent.
''Alecto and Amycus?'' the man spoke in a clipped tone. ''For their continued wellbeing, I hope your assumption is true. I did not grant them a place at my side for it to be misused. Now we are already on the topic of unpleasantries… Black really did throw soot over my plans. Did he return to the Order yesterday, Severus?'' Across the table, Potter visibly tensed up at the name. Severus had not yet figured out exactly what had transpired with Black last night and was still debating on whether he wanted to burn his hands on finding out. In all years of studying dark magic, never had he seen a human impose their will on another by words alone, in what had appeared to be an accident. There had been no Imperius curse involved, of that he was certain. Rather, Potter had appeared devastated by the effect his words had on the mutt. Devastated… yet not surprised.
''Black appears to have found his way home. However, he left soon after again, before I arrived. Instead of stirring up suspicion by rousing the entire Order during the night to question who knows of his location, I decided it would be wiser to wait for the planned meeting today. None will think twice about me being angry at Black's reckless flight if he isn't back by then.''
He truly could not grasp the logic behind leaving the safe hide-out that everyone tried to keep the ungrateful bastard in. Black literally only had two jobs: take care of the Headquarters and don't mess anything up by going out. The mongrel had succeeded in neither. The house was a right mess and he kept selfishly breaking out to visit Potter while the rest of them put their lives on the line. Idiot. The Order would be much better off without having to constantly shield the broken mess that was Sirius Black. If it were up to Severus, another one-way trip to Azkaban would be a good idea.
Of course, that was wishful thinking when two of the countries' three major political players attempted to keep Black out of there. Ah, Severus couldn't wait for the mutt to slip up in front of the Order and spill his little secret of being just as much of a traitor as Pettigrew had been, whom he'd condemned for doing the very same. It was one more reason why it was difficult to put his resentment against Potter aside. If it hadn't been for the boy, Severus' childhood tormentor wouldn't be parading through his life anymore. He hated these ties, the vow that kept him bound to the safety of a teen whose main hobbies appeared to be getting his head cracked open during Quidditch and painting a target on himself for dangerous enemies. First, it had been the Dark Lord. Then Dumbledore. Now, the Ministry as well.
The mood was tense as they took breakfast, the Dark Lord appearing deep in thought while the Malfoys pretended this was just any other morning, while occasionally shooting glances at their Lord as if wanting to speak up, then changing their mind again. Draco was most silent, mechanically chewing his toast, a frown on his face that Severus knew all too well. Draco was plotting something, something that had to do with Potter, no doubt. After their petty rivalry, it was to be expected that the boy would not be happy with this new family member intruding upon his home life. He'd have to warn his godson away from following Potter on the road leading to inevitable trouble. The last thing he needed was Draco taking a page from Potter's book.
The Dark Lord struck a conversation with a cautious Narcissa, inquiring about the rest of the night. Severus tried to banish all knowledge of why the man hadn't been around to personally witness the end of the celebration, having retreated to Potter's room of all places. Severus carefully dissected his blistered tomatoes as he would a potion ingredient just to keep both eyes on his plate. It was not his place to comment on this, especially since he was not aware of what the Dark Lord wanted others to know. He had not been ordered to take away the memories of their opening dance or the one that followed, for one, which clearly stated some form of intent of a future bonding. Both Lucius and Narcissa had also hinted at Harry being there as the Dark Lord's official date and seemed perfectly fine with that idea. It was frustrating that Severus' own upbringing left him guessing at the exact boundaries of what was considered normal in such a scenario. After losing Lily, he'd never cared for either romance nor arranged marriages - as Lucius had suggested multiple times as a 'solution' – so he had not cared either about the social niceties involved with such frivolous things. It was preferable to pretend no opportunities to betray his lingering love for Lily existed at all.
That became problematic now that Severus was oath-bound to protect her son's life, when said son had clearly been dropped on the head too often as a baby (surely Black's fault!) and could not see how starting a passionate love story with the homicidal Dark Lord who'd tried to murder him previously might in any way be a risk factor.
Of course, Potter would never think that far ahead, nor care how it might affect the very existence of those around him. Severus suppressed a shudder when reminded of the memory he'd seen between the rash boy and the Dark Lord's Horcrux. How long had this already been going on? And why did he always find himself in the middle of Potter's personal business when wanting nothing to do with it?
''Severus?''
Slowly, to not give his Lord the idea that he'd been having thoughts that might warrant scrutiny, Severus looked up, keeping his eyes trained at the spot just under those piercing red eyes. ''Yes, my Lord?''
''I've heard that you've been using the time designated to teaching Evan mental protection to instead give extra potion classes?''
From the way it was said, Severus was unable to tell whether that decision was met with approval or not, although it had been the Dark Lord who'd ordered to keep up the farce of Occlumency lessons when knowing they were no longer needed. Potter didn't seem to know either, throwing an insecure glance at the man next to him. What had the little dunce done this time? ''That is correct, to have any hopes of passing his O.W.L. in my subject at the end of the year with a sufficient note to take the advanced course, he needed much extra time to catch up.'' That wasn't entirely true. As hard as it was to admit, even from the very start of this school year, Potter's brewing skills had taken a leap forwards, which he'd thought to be due to studying under the Dark Lord's tutelage, and later a soul piece of the same man. The discovery about Potter holding a Horcrux had greatly influenced his lessons too, as he never knew who could be watching.
He wondered how he'd act when not trying to keep on his toes so much, though he didn't think it would be much different. When outside of the classroom, where Potter did not work together with his sloppy Weasley friend, the boy did an even better job than inside it. It had been difficult at the start due to their clashing natures, yet once Severus had discovered that Potter was actually trying to be civil, teaching had become easier too. There was barely any hostility between them during those lessons now. They'd likely never get along - there was too much bitterness to move past – but it was relieving that the boy didn't constantly try to challenge his authority like he had during the Occlumency lessons or gave lip like he often still did during regular class.
Even considering all of this however, Severus was not entirely positive that Potter could pass with an O, and he would absolutely not lower his own standards by accepting students with merely E's in the advanced course. He'd have to double down on homework, trying to make the boy understand how much depended on this…
Severus sent a mild glare at Draco, who'd started snickering under his breath at the comment. He understood the sentiment, but laughing so openly at Potter's expense was unwise. The boy didn't get the hint fast enough and Severus slowly closed his eyes in pain for the stupidity of the next generation when Draco suddenly started choking, grasping for his throat as all air was pulled out.
''Interruption is not appreciated,'' the Dark Lord coldly told the boy, fingers curled into a claw as he kept up the choking spell. A smaller hand shot out and closed around a white wrist, pulling it away. Severus' had already grasped the handle on his wand to raise a defensive barrier when necessary, when the most peculiar thing happened. For two long seconds, Potter and the Dark Lord stared at each other, the Gryffindor hissed a single word in the language of serpents, and then they both returned to normal while Draco slumped down on his chair, gasping for air. Narrowing his eyes at Potter, Severus' mind was racing as to everything the boy could have said to make the usually unrelenting man back off so quickly. Was this perhaps a secret power that Potter could exert over everyone, not just Black? Were a few words enough to make others unquestionably follow his word? If he'd developed such a skill, Severus would have to be far more careful…
''Where were we…'' his Lord continued. ''Ah yes, those remedial potion classes. I merely wish to emphasise on how much the performance of a teacher can influence a students' abilities. What is failure of a student, if not a failure of the teacher to properly impart all of the knowledge they possess? Potions is an art, combining precision with a wealth of information. Over the past two years, I have learned that Evan possesses the former plentiful.'' It was a very unsubtle threat. If Potter would fail, it would be on Severus' head. ''From the depths of your mind, I've seen over the years that you withhold much from your students, only wishing to teach your tricks to the worthy who already show talent and independency. I understand that well. However, this is not the time to hold back. You'll surely agree that being able to properly brew potions is an essential skill in the most varied situations, be it preparation for battle, tending to the wounded or to discover secrets. It's a necessary life skill that someone with enemies all around needs to have every access to.''
Severus swallowed and nodded to indicate he'd understood, although the threat had not been necessary. He was intelligent enough to know how much depended on Potter passing this exam with flying colours. It was why he'd for once set aside his regular teaching methods and shown the boy some of his discoveries that had improved the recipes in their standard text books. Also, he'd moved on to a few N.E.W.T. level potions without telling Potter. ''I could attempt to teach both him and Draco together these two weeks,'' he suggested, knowing that proactiveness was looked upon favourably. Potter looked up in horror, but Severus disregarded it. Teenagers never knew what was good for them.
''I think that would be best,'' his Lord replied. The boy hissed something again, longer and more aggressively. Everyone apart from the two people speaking felt a deep sense of discomfort settling in. The hissing and spitting language was disturbing to listen to, sounding like a dying man attempting to speak with all of his might. He recalled the first time he'd heard Potter speak it, not having been able to believe his ears. Ah, how things had changed. Back then, most of the student body and even a few of his colleagues had attempted to brand Potter as dark for being a Parselmouth, then had to eat their own words when that very same brat slayed the monster of Slytherin. Ironically, they'd been right in the end, though not for the reason they'd believed.
The snake tongue reminded him again of the unpleasant fact that Potter was likely a Horcrux as well, a detail he had attempted to burrow deep into his mind and bar behind doors. That was one theory he didn't need the Dark Lord to know he had, just like he wasn't supposed to know anything else about Horcruxes, or their connection to the Dark Lord. Being quick to draw conclusions was the trait of himself most likely to land him in trouble one day, no matter how useful it was when spying.
''Arrange a schedule with Lucius,'' his Lord finally spoke in English again, sounding far too pleased while Harry glared daggers. ''Speaking of which, a word in private,'' he said, addressing both Lucius and Narcissa. Another few hisses were exchanged, but it appeared to not be anything else that aggravated Potter, for he shrugged, finished the last crumbs on his plate and leaned back.
As Severus' friends followed their Lord to the sitting room next door and Draco snuck away from the table quietly, he found himself alone in the room with Potter. He debated leaving to start with his numerous tasks, from finding out Black's location to Order missions and grading essays. He could easily send Lucius an owl about those lessons later. As he got up to leave though, Potter stopped him.
''Wait,'' the teen spoke. ''There's something I wanted to ask you.''
''Spare your effort if you wish to strike a deal about those potion lessons,'' Severus impatiently stated, not wishing to deal with this.
Potter shook his head. ''No, Voldemort made some good points about why I should take them. It's about something else. Sirius.''
With wary eyes, he regarded Potter. ''What about the mutt?''
Taking a deep breath, the other spoke: ''I know that you've been told to wipe his memories as you had to do for everyone else. However, memory charms can be damaging and Sirius is not in the best state of mind. I want to make you aware of a few things to take into consideration when erasing his memories, to ensure that nothing happens to him.''
''I did not get the idea that the Dark Lord cared much for his mental wellbeing,'' Severus answered, curling his lips in disdain. Partial memory charms were fickle enough without having to worry about complications.
''But I do.'' The tone wasn't aggressive per se, but Severus felt a strange sense of intimidation that reminded him of the Dark Lord himself and put him on edge. Potter stepped closer, a glint of familiar fire in Lily's eyes. It took everything he had not to put more distance between them. ''Sirius is ill, the Dementors messed up his memories and sense of time. Added to that, he is under influence of magic that can control his every thought and action. Simply removing what Voldemort does not want him to remember might cause irreparable memory gaps or worsen his condition. Look, I realise that I can neither convince Voldemort to simply let it go and that you won't go against direct orders, so I want to ask you if there is a way to minimise the negative effects. Like not catching him unaware by asking for his permission if you explain the situation to him.''
Severus stared down at the boy, then chuckled at the ridiculous suggestion. ''Oh yes, that will surely go over well. 'I have been ordered by the Dark Lord to make you forget about the topic that you are so passionate about that you caused a scene.' There is no reasoning with that man. You should be very aware of that after he ran away from his problems yesterday.''
Potter bit on his bottom lip, brow furrowing in worry. ''I know that he can be difficult, and also that you don't like him, but I can't allow anyone to intentionally cast magic on him that might worsen his state. Even now, he sometimes doesn't know where he is or who he's speaking to.''
The desperation in Potter's voice made him unwillingly offer: ''I could at least implant false memories instead of trying to let his own subconscious fill in the missing spaces. If I have the time for that, of course.''
''You think that would help?''
He nodded thoughtfully. ''If his memories are all over the place, then putting a few external ones in could even help to stabilise him. Although I cannot say how it would be affected by this magic you mentioned. I'd have to get more details on it so I know what to watch out for.''
Grimacing, Potter folded his arms appeared to be having an internalised debate. ''How much have you been told regarding Sirius being here?''
Unwilling to admit no-one had bothered to mention to him that Black had apparently been on their side for a while until seeing the mutt at the party and he'd asked Lucius for an explanation, Severus answered: ''I don't see how that is relevant.'' He hadn't formed an elaborate opinion on it yet, other than severely disliking the idea that for who-knew-how-long, there'd been two spies in the Order instead of just him.
''But it is,'' the boy disagreed. ''I've gotten into disagreements with Voldemort before about how much I revealed to his followers, I'd rather not repeat that mistake if it's avoidable. I'll take a wild guess and say you just suddenly had to accept that Sirius was allowed into this closed celebration amongst Voldemort's followers.''
''And on good terms with Crouch, apparently,'' he couldn't help but sourly comment.
''Yeah, that too. Barty is probably the only one Sirius is on good terms with now, to be honest. Which is also why I'd much prefer if he did this whole memory wipe… but it sounded as if he also was not allowed to remember.''
''Just as little as I will once this task is completed,'' he sighed. ''It would have been advisable to avoid all of this in the first place,'' he sharply remarked, annoyed by the entire situation. What had either of them be thinking?
Potter shrugged uncomfortably, looking a lot smaller suddenly. ''I realise that now… Look, I didn't know what to expect with any of this. Pure-blood rules are so detached from either what I grew up with in the Muggle world and from what my friends think normal, that I had a hard time figuring out what's considered okay. Draco's talk about having been engaged for a while already threw me off, as well as Narcissa's positive reaction to my closeness with Voldemort. It's a world I understand little of and there hasn't really been enough time to adjust…'' then, the boy peered at him. ''Not sure why I'm telling you this of all people. Doubt you care.''
Severus had a snappy comment on the tip of his tongue, then decided to neither confirm nor deny it when catching the guarded look he was thrown, as well as the boy's defensive gestures – arms wound tight around his upper body, back slightly hunched over. Unpleasant memories of Potter's childhood attempted to worm their way into his unforgiving heart, accompanied by guilt. ''It certainly does take more than a week to become familiar with all of the unspoken rules. Especially as there's a cleft of understanding. No Pure-blood will be able to tell you all the differences between their norms compared to those of Muggles or even lesser families. They are so steeped in these rules that they find it mind-boggling when anyone does not regard them as generally accepted.''
Potter thought about that for a while, then asked: ''How long did it take you? I honestly thought you were one of them for a long time. Never could have imagined otherwise until hearing more stories about you from Barty.'' Severus' hands twitched. That damn bastard. It wasn't as if he tried to hide his blood status, but he also did not actively go around telling others about his heritage. It was better to let others draw their own conclusions, especially if they erroneously thought him to be descended from mages on both sides. That certainly didn't give Crouch the right to blab about it. After the man's promotion, Severus unfortunately was not in a position to curse Crouch for it.
How long had it taken him to adapt? It was an interesting question that Severus hadn't consciously thought about. Although his mother had been a Prince, she hadn't taught him much of anything useful regarding wizarding society, so it had started at Hogwarts instead. Growing up in Slytherin had made him adapt much faster than Potter would have had a chance to. As the House did not allow anyone lesser than a Half-blood and most of the famous pure families were Slytherins, their way of life had seeped into every corner of the common room and dorms. He was about to answer when Potter suddenly jumped up, chair clattering loudly to the floor. His face was twisted in pain and the boy's fists were curled so tightly that his knuckles were white.
''Voldemort,'' he choked out, starting to sprint to the exit. Never one to freeze up, Severus instantly drew his wand and followed, reminded of Potter's strange mental connection to the Dark Lord. Was the man in danger? In pain?
The answer became clear when a high-pitched scream tore through the hallway as soon as Severus set foot over the threshold. His throat went dry when recognising it as a woman. Going even faster, he practically pushed Potter into the sitting room that he knew the others had retreated to for their private conversation. The sight shocked him to the core, a furious Dark Lord standing over Narcissa's crumpled form, the wand that was directed at her trembling. Her screams broke off when Lucius threw himself in front of the spell, shielding his wife by taking the Cruciatus curse himself, his cry mingling with Narcissa's sobbing.
For once, Severus had nothing left for Potter but compliments as the boy broke the spell by barrelling into the Dark Lord like a battering ram and started hissing at a volume the Potion master had thought to be impossible for Parseltongue. Severus, in the meantime, helped his friends up who were both shaking, Narcissa more than her husband as she'd been under the curse for longer. ''What in the world happened?'' he whispered urgently in concern. ''What made him so angry?''
Lucius took a few gasps of air before finding his voice again. ''I don't know. We were simply talking… Harry's future came up and, considering that they both made their intentions of courting clear to us, we naturally wished to discuss future steps.'' Severus' eyes drifted to the low table in the middle of the room, where parchment scrolls lay open, one having rolled off the table during the chaos.
''It's my fault,'' Narcissa whispered hoarsely, words almost inaudible. Severus had to lean in closer to hear her. ''I didn't think. Knowing he has no living relatives, I thought it would be a nice thought that he could finally be part of a family again.''
''You… you told him that?'' he breathed back in horror. ''Cissy, he has no other relatives because he murdered them!'' by the wide eyes of both of his friends, this appeared to be new information.
On the other side of the room, the voices had quieted down, but when the potion master looked up, a cold settled in his chest. The Dark Lord and Potter were staring each other down over their drawn wands. With a chilling edge to his voice, the older wizard addressed his opponent: ''Are you truly prepared to attack me, after everything, Evan?''
''Are you?'' Potter replied stubbornly. ''Again and again, you keep using violence as an answer to manage your anger. Too often, people whom I care about get in the crossfire.''
''Care?'' the Dark Lord laughed in disbelief. ''They took you in because I ordered them to! You know nothing about them! You cannot possibly-''
''They're trying to make me feel welcome, part of them!'' Potter shouted back. ''You don't get to tell me with whom or how fast I develop attachment! I'm not like you who tries to shove everyone away! They're my family now, which you helped happen, so you don't get to forbid me from wishing to protect them now! Unless Narcissa cursed Nagini or something equally terrible, you cannot convince me that I'm wrong in trying to stop you from hurting her.''
Severus' hand slid to the handle of his own wand again, well aware of the Vow that tugged as his life essence. If the Dark Lord would truly fire a harmful spell at Potter, he was obligated to step in. Magic shot through the air, sizzling and turning every fibre static. Severus winced as his hand brushed over his own robes and tiny shocks pained his fingertips. Just in case, he started emptying his mind to reach a state of calm, taking in every tiny movement in order to act correctly. The muscles on Voldemort's gaunt hands twitched, Potter bent his knees ever so slightly in preparation to jump…
The white, yew wand whipped down and disappeared in the Dark Lord's sleeve as he regarded Potter, weariness showing on his serpentine face. He cocked his head ever so slightly, gaze sliding over the three of them instead. ''Leave us,'' he commanded.
Figuring that Potter was in no acute danger anymore, Severus saw little choice but to follow the command, ushering his friends outside and carefully closing the door. Once they were far away enough, in a dainty spare sitting area with an overlook of the backyard, he attempted to address the matter. ''So if I understood earlier what you were attempting to say…'' he reluctantly spoke. ''Your reaction to discovering that the Dark Lord has an interest in Potter, was to ask him to sign an engagement contract?''
''Yes, of course!'' Lucius said, lowering his cup of freshly brewed calming tea that an elf had been ordered to bring, still looking bewildered by why that hadn't worked. It occurred to Severus that not everyone had as much insight in the Dark Lord's past as he had, having heard much from Dumbledore.
''Did it not occur to you that a man who surrounds himself with followers instead of friends and has reached his sixties without striking up at least a political marriage, has some form of reluctance to attachment?'' he reasoned.
''Regardless,'' Narcissa protested, ''Harry informed us of his interest being of long-term nature. It's only proper to set the terms and involve family. What would you have us do, then?''
Severus could see their point, especially considering that the alternative was what he faced now: having to erase the traces of the Dark Lord and Potter's relationship from the minds of those who'd attended yesterday's ball. That wasn't a permanent solution when they didn't become more subtle. Taking matters into his own hands, Severus sat down and tightened the security around his own mind as well as he possibly could, while asking his friends to follow his example. With worried looks, they did so.
''I'll be punished much worse than you were now when he finds out that I am telling you this,'' he started. ''So do not repeat this to a single soul. While you are Potter's guardians now and have to handle this mess, I imagine it is unwise to leave you in the dark when it can lead to situations like this. Our Lord isn't merely courting Potter. They are most certainly already involved.'' He quickly summarised last night, Black's outburst and the memory charms. Lastly, he spoke: ''The Dark Lord joined for breakfast today because he was already here, having stayed in Potter's room.'' He understood their scandalised looks, but continued before either could interrupt. ''I have told you this because I'm certain that you can better protect your new charge with this knowledge. Neither of them seems willing to follow the rules you are familiar with. Potter always tries to break every rule he can, and the Dark lord is not usually beholden to them. Attempting to interfere in their union to determine the pace will not work, as you saw. I don't think they know which pace they want, considering how they went each other's throats before.''
''So what do you suggest we do? Ignore it and attempt to keep it out of sight from our family and friends until they are willing to following decorum by finally settling it through a contract sometime in the future?'' Lucius huffed disbelievingly.
''Exactly,'' Severus agreed. ''Or do you wish to ire Him once more?'' Clasping his hands behind his back, Severus approached the only window in the room while the Malfoys quietly discussed his suggestion among themselves. He frowned when seeing movement. To the right side of the garden, visible between the branches of only just budding shrubs, the odd pair walked down a winding path leading deeper into the greenery. Potter's arm was curled around their Lord's and the boy was talking animatedly. Severus sighed in relief to see them both alive, unharmed and on speaking terms. The last thing they all needed was a Dark Lord with heartache – which surely would express itself in exploding bodies and other unnecessary cruelty.
He shook his head, still in disbelief over how two such contradicting people had found each other. As the figures stood still and drew closer to each other, he tore his gaze away.
''Good luck with attempting to raise Potter to be a decent human being,'' he stated. ''Will potion lessons on Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday work for you?''
One weak confirmation later, he swept towards the nearest fireplace, not planning on setting foot here any longer than necessary as long as both Potter and his beau were present. As if not enough drama happened at Hogwarts already. He'd hoped that at least his holidays would be free of the 'Potter headache'. Clearly not.
Now, it was probably time for it to be replaced with the Black headache instead.
So, bit of a slower chapter, but I hope it shows both their developing relationship and also shows it from a not-so-biased perspective as their own :P The next chapter should cover most of the remaining Easter holidays before shenanigans at Hogwarts start again.
That will, however, unfortunately have to wait longer than usual. Due to how massive this story has become, more and more details are slipping from my memory, even with the help of an additional file with notes. I've had to rewrite Snape's POV in this chapter a total of 3 times because I'd forgotten so much and each time I reread pieces of the scenes he's been in before. I kept realising I'd forgotten pieces of info he knows or doesn't.
To remain true to this story and all of its characters, I need time to entirely re-read this story myself, make chapter summaries and a lot more notes than I have now. Thus, I am announcing a hiatus. Now, this will not be an indefinite hiatus, nor is it because I've lost inspiration or love for this story. I expect my little project to last two months, with then another month needed for actually writing the next chapter. So we'll see each other again around three months from now. I'm truly sorry that I have to halt my regular update schedule, but I just can't keep writing while constantly wondering whether or not I am creating plot holes due to info not being consistent..
Anyways, long rant over. Please leave a review if you liked this chapter and tell me if there's something in particular that you would like to see in future chpters!
xx GeMerope