!!!! IMPORTANT NOTE: As Voldemort isn't such a murderous killer in this story, he will retain a human like appearance! !!!!

Chapter 6

Severus had the driver take them to a nice little restaurant that Harry didn't recognize.

"I made reservations here for twelve. We can eat a bit and then I'll activate the portkey." Severus discreetly informed Harry before addressing the driver. "We will find other transportation back to the hotel." He gave the driver a hefty tip before he slid out of the limousine after Harry. He was clad in afternoon attire - a white button up shirt with a few buttons left undone, expensive navy pants, and his silky black hair in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. Harry was dressed simply as well in khaki pants that hung a bit low on his hips and a light sweater over a white T- shirt. He wore a pair of sunglasses that his eyes, and Severus hoped he'd take them off once they got inside the resturaunt. The two men walked to the restaurant, Severus opening the door for Harry and smiling when the younger man laced their hands together. It looked to be a beautiful afternoon, not a cloud in the sky and the perfect temperature for racing.

They ate their lunch in back of the restaurant where there was a nice little courtyard. They drank cool tea and ate a scrumptious lunch, talking and enjoying the smattering of fountains and flowers in the luscious oasis. Harry occasionally would toss crumbs from his sandwich to the inquiring pigeons, enjoying watching the gray little birds hop around excitedly by the table.

"Do you ever have free time to do things you enjoy, or do you always work?" Harry questioned, nibbling on a sandwich teeming with lettuce and tomatoes. Severus, who had finished his meal and was contentedly sipping raspberry lemon tea, arched an elegant brow.

"You mean my hobbies?" He responded, taking another refreshing drink and glancing at the pigeons bustling about at their feet.

"Yeah, your hobbies." Harry confirmed, waiting for his answer.

"I have always loved potions. I have a doctorate from Stonehenge University in the subject, but I never pursued a career in the field."

"Stonehenge University . I've never heard of it. Is it like Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"It's post graduate school - like a muggle college for wizards. It's the best wizard university there is," he paused and shrugged a shoulder, "perhaps tied with the University of Atlantis. They're rival colleges." He explained in between sips.

"Why didn't you go into a career in potions?" Harry asked curiously. Severus studied his face intently.

"You mean to ask, why did I join Voldemort when I had other options, don't you?" He correctly assumed, noticing Harry's slightly pink cheeks.

"Well, I didn't want to ask something so personal sounding, but if you don't mind telling me ." He replied sheepishly.

"I joined Voldemort because he made me the most appealing offer. I was still a relatively young man, and a job teaching potions or working in a lab of some sort couldn't compare to the power and wealth he could offer me. Besides, I have always enjoyed politics. There will never be so great a mind game as politics. It is an exciting life, if not a bit tiring. But, it will not be long now until Voldemort takes over the ministry and rebuilds the way the magical world runs in Britain. That is why we can openly declare our support for him. He has already won the war. His supporters far outnumber those of Dumbledore. When everything is running smoothly I will most likely retire a very wealthy man."

"Maybe it's just because I was only getting Dumbledore's side of the story, but isn't Voldemort evil? Won't a lot of people be killed when he takes over?" Harry asked naively. Severus sighed.

"Not as many as you would think. As always, when a government that has been in place for a long time is overthrown, there will be bloodshed. But Voldemort isn't out to kill all the muggles and squibs. When he was younger man, he wanted to rule the muggles, but he has wizened since then. He has no such aspirations now. The students from muggle homes would be slowly weeded out of the schools and universities, but nothing would stop them from leaving Britain and getting their education elsewhere. Voldemort is not a monster. He does not want to rule Britain just to have mass murders. I assume things will run rather peacefully once he is in complete power. You act as though men like Dumbledore have always been in charge. It's not so. Throughout history power has shifted from those who believe in muddying up the bloodlines and using the lighter side of magic to those who believe in keeping things pure and dabbling in Dark Arts. It is just time for it to shift once again. Grindelwald ran Britain for over two decades." Severus explained.

"That doesn't change the fact that you don't like working for him." Harry responded bluntly, searching Severus' face for affirmation. It came when the other man sighed.

"I used to, Harry. I used to love my job a great deal, but I'm not filled with hotheaded youth anymore. The violence and upheaval is wearing me quite thin. I can't help but feel that ." He stopped himself, as if realizing suddenly he had an audience. "But it's of no importance. I will only have a few more years in his service anyway." He finished quietly, obviously off in his own world.

Harry wished he hadn't brought the topic up in the first place, yet one thing still yearned to be asked.

"Severus, if you don't like muggles and squibs, why do you like me?" He queried, waiting for the other man's answer nervously. Severus seemed startled by the question, raising his eyes from the pigeons to Harry's probing green ones in a heartbeat.

And the answer was so plain in his eyes that Harry was surprised he hadn't seen it before.

Harry was everything that Voldemort and his inner circle were not. And he was falling for him.

Severus opened his mouth, but before he could reply a waiter came to take their dishes and bring the bill. Severus used the opportunity to dismiss the question that he didn't think he quite knew the answer to yet. But, as he would come to find, Harry often intuitively figured out things about him before he figured it out for himself.

~

They activated the portkey in a small alley behind the restaurant, transporting themselves to the clubhouse.

It was beautiful.

The clubhouse was a small castle, overlooking verdant lawns so pristine that they sparkled like sheets of emerald. There was a massive indoor pool made completely out of white marble and accentuated with gold statues. To the right of the clubhouse was an arena for winged horse sports, and a green for a sport that Severus explained was a lot like muggle golf. There were tennis courts, though they were marked differently than the muggle version, and the ball used to play was different. Harry felt like the stereotype for rich people as snobs must have originated from the place.

After a brief tour, Severus took Harry to the stables. They were immaculately clean and the horses were all groomed to perfection. Harry had been amazed by the beauty of the slender, winged gray horses prancing about in their stalls like the high spirited thoroughbreds that they were. Occasionally, an Aethonan would be among the lines of Granians, but they did not stick out as startlingly as Severus' massive Thestral did. He was in the back of the stables, in a stall far bigger than the ones holding the other horses. His mane and tail were braided with dark green silk, his coat gleaming so brightly he looked almost ethereal. Immediately upon seeing Severus approach, he leisurely turned his back as if Severus did not interest him at all. Severus smiled genuinely and rolled his eyes, one of the rare times Harry had seen him smile so carelessly. A stable worker brought Harry a few apples and a brush, as it was Severus' ritual to brush the Thestral down before each race. Harry observed the two from outside the stall until the mighty horse decided he was bored with Severus' brushing and came to inspect Harry. He offered the horse an apple and laughed when the gentle giant took the apple from his hand in one bite. Upon Severus' encouragement, he entered the stall and patted the horse down, running his fingers over the folded silky wings with amazement and appreciation shining in his eyes.

"Well, what do you think of him?" Severus asked as he exited the stall, leaning against the door to watch the two of them. Harry remained silent, smiling softly as he stroked the horse's velvety face, grinning brightly when the horse brought their foreheads together.

They seemed to be in a trance, Harry gently stroking the Thestral's face as he spoke to the horse with his eyes.

"I think I'll call you Jack." Harry finally voiced, "Black Jack, because your going to be lucky from here on out." He finished. Severus chuckled dryly.

"I've never won a game of blackjack in my life." He commented. Harry turned to him a smiled.

"Well then today will be a first, because Jack is going to win this race for me. I can tell." Harry said with conviction, moving to briefly hug Jack's silken neck. The two of them made quite the pair, Severus mused, both of them matching with their green and black, both of them magical in their beauty. Severus couldn't muster surprise at the fact that the two of them got along instantly. Normally "Jack" would bite and kick at anyone other than Severus and the jockey Severus had ride him, but there he was nuzzling against Harry like a harmless little foal.

Suddenly, the stable boy came running up to them.

"Mr. Snape, I've got some bad news! Mr. Malfoy's horse just kicked your jockey square in the groin. He's still not able to talk, and they've taken him up to the clubhouse." The stable hand informed grievously. Severus winced at the idea of getting kicked in the groin by a horse, but nodded absently.

"I'll come immediately. Harry, do you want to stay here for a moment or come with me?" Severus asked, already heading for the entranceway.

"I'll just stay here!" He replied. As if Jack had understood the conversation, he butted Harry with his head, and then swung it backwards as if to say 'You ride me!' Harry laughed and put his hands on his hips.

"There's no way I'm riding you, Jack. I've never been on a horse in my life."

"It's not that hard." The stable boy said, surprising Harry as he came up to the stall. "The horse does most of the work, and by now he knows the trail so well you wouldn't even have to steer him. You certainly have the build of a jockey." Harry looked surprised.

"Are you suggesting I ride him in the race?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh no! Of course not! But, since he won't be in the race I can take him to the warm up ring and let you ride him a bit for fun." He offered. "After all, he's been all saddled up and waiting, I'd hate for it to be for nothing. And by the way, I'm Charles." He said, extending a hand. "You're not like the others, are you?" He asked, after extending a callused hand for Harry to shake. Harry blushed and shook his head.

"No, I'm just a friend of Severus'." He explained, wondering how Charles had spotted him so quickly when Severus' own friends had not. As if answering his unspoken question, Charles spoke.

"I put up with a lot of rich people working here. I can spot a decent wizard amongst the lot of em' from a mile away." He said with a lopsided, rustically charming smile. Harry returned it, nodding his head.

"I'd love to try riding him." He agreed.

"Well, you'll have to put on some riding breeches and a jacket, club policy you know, but I think Brandon has a spare in the tack room. He certainly won't be using it for awhile." Charles said, leading him through the barn.

"Is Brandon the jockey that normally rides Jack?" Harry asked.

"Is Jack his name? We just call him Thirteen around here. That's his number - fitting too because he's the unluckiest horse I've ever seen. And yeah, Brandon normally rides him, but Lucius Malfoy's Granian is a devil of a horse. Doubt Brandon will be having children anytime soon." Charles commented as he led him into a changing room. "You and Brandon are just about the same size. If anything you're a bit smaller. These should fit just fine. You can wear my boots." Harry thanked him and changed into the jockey uniform. It was dark green and black, the buttons a glossy silver. It fit him just right. When he immerged, Charles lent him some riding boots, and dug him up a helmet.

Nerves racing in excitement, he learned how to lead Jack out of his stall and into the nearby warm up pen. The other horses wouldn't begin warming up for another hour at least.

Brandon had black hair. And as it was already established, his clothes fit Harry quite nicely. With the helmet on, and Harry's shades obscuring his eyes, when the other jockeys entered the warm-up pen, they made the obvious deduction that Harry was Brandon. They hadn't heard what had happened to Brandon, as the accident had taken place long before any of them had arrived. Charles, who would have informed them that Harry was merely a guest, had rushed off to tend to the Malfoy horse when he started walking funny on the leg that had struck the jockey with. He'd left Harry happily flying in circles around the warm-up pen. It was only natural that he got so focused on inspecting the temperamental Granian that he forgot all about Harry.

Harry kept riding Jack in the large ring, partially because Charles hadn't come back for him, partially because he didn't know how to get down, and partially because Jack seemed to be having the time of his life. Harry didn't tell him where to turn or what speed to go, so he was leisurely showing off in front of the Granian mares.

Harry was exceedingly pleased that he hadn't fallen off yet, and was really starting to enjoy himself when the roof to the warm-up pen opened up and the other jockeys took to the air, presumably towards the track for the race.

Jack followed them.

Harry tried to call out to someone, but the other jockeys were already circling far above him. He looked down intending to jump off but was dismayed to find that he was nearly twenty feet off the ground.

And Jack was heading for the track, so he did the only thing that seemed sensible.

He hunkered over Jack's neck like the other jockeys were doing, locked his legs tightly under Jack's majestically expanded wings, griped the reins for all he was worth, and closed his eyes when a loud crack signaled the start of the race.

A/N:

Hmmm.I've already diverged from the story line, so maybe I should have him fall off, get amnesia, and leave? lol, you know I wouldn't do that.or would I? ^_^

Yeah, I know this was late, but it's summer now so I'll have a bit more time to write. If I get stressed or busy I just can't write, because it's always crap.

But some other news: I'm looking for a beta reader for ALL my stories. Preferably someone that has some of their own work posted so I know he/she is a reliable editor. If anyone's interested, please e-mail me at:

sshp208@yahoo.com