Love's authority, like conscience's, is absolute. Like conscience, too, love needs no authentication or validation by any authority outside itself. Speculations about love's credentials, or lack of credentials, cannot either enhance or diminish love's absoluteness. – A. J. Toynbee
Prologue Part 5: Love's Authority
Harry awoke at half past one the next morning. He quietly tossed back the covers and got to his feet, parting the curtains. Harry pulled on his running shoes and his winter cloak before grabbing the Invisibility cloak and walking out of Gryffindor tower.
Mrs. Norris must have had the night off, Harry vaguely thought, while the thought in the back of his mind pulled him steadily toward the study in the North Tower. The North Tower, where his love awaited. He gave the new password and entered.
Warmth filled the room and Harry's head swam. The heat was almost stifling.
"Harry?"
As suddenly as the connection came, the pull in Harry's mind snapped, and he gasped slightly. He looked up and smiled, pushing back the hood of the Invisibility Cloak, and then dropped it to the floor.
Strong arms took Harry by the waist and drew him further into the study. Loving fingers fumbled with the clasp on Harry's wool cloak and the garment fell to the floor beside the other, both forgotten.
The vampire's hands were like ice as he mishandled Harry's shirt buttons to mid-chest.
Harry grinned wickedly and began to return the favor. He got three buttons down before the other teen asked, "What are you doing?" He had paused momentarily, but then continued to the bottom.
"Turnabout's fair play, love," Harry replied, looking into the other's eyes. They were already silver, from what he could tell in the flickering light.
"You are truly beautiful when you're happy, Harry," the vampire said, leaning closer. He brushed Harry's bangs aside again, then his lips fell to Harry's neck. But strangely enough, he didn't bite yet, just kissed the Gryffindor until the boy shivered, as he removed the shirt completely.
Harry was tossed back against the cushions and in a moment, the vampire pinned him down, placing his right arm behind Harry's neck and the other under his right shoulder. For a moment, Harry looked at the other, tracing the outlines of his pectoral muscles with his eyes, and following the lines down to his abs. But then fangs bared, and the hand turned Harry's head away, so that he couldn't see a thing, except the crackling fire.
That same fire spread through Harry's shoulder as the fangs sank deep into the flesh on his chest muscles. It reached from the bite mark itself to the tips of his fingers, then to the tips of his toes. Harry grabbed the other boy's arms for something to hold onto. He wrapped his fingers in the silk pajama shirt that the vampire wore and waited.
As the fire in Harry's veins turned to ice, he shivered and the vampire withdrew his fangs. He soothingly kissed the new bite mark, then each previous from the past week, ending up with Harry's right cheek.
Harry's fingers disentangled from the shirt folds and he lay there for a few moments almost without breathing, but certainly without moving. His head was still turned to the left side, and he opened and closed his eyes to cut through the dizziness.
"Harry. Oh, bollocks. You're crying," the vampire breathed, turning Harry's head back so that he could look him in the eye.
Harry reached up sluggishly with his right hand, feeling the slightly stiffened muscle and wiped the tear off his cheek. "I'm okay," he rasped. "You know… you've got a bit of green in your eyes just now."
"Really?" the vampire asked, sitting back across Harry's waist. "As long as my hair's not turning black. Wouldn't go with my complexion in the slightest." He ran his now warmer hands down Harry's abs, barely brushing the waistband of his trousers.
Harry smiled weakly, moving his hands to the narrowest part of the vampire's body. "The potion, love?"
The immortal smacked his forehead. "Right! The potion!" He pushed up off the couch and pulled a bottle from the cloak sitting on the table near the door. He helped Harry to a sitting position as the Gryffindor drank the bitter liquid.
"I really wish we didn't have to put quite so much rat liver in this," Harry said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yes, rat liver does taste terrible, but…"
"It's the active ingredient," Harry finished. "I know." He lay back down and breathed quietly.
"Harry," the immortal began. "Love. You know I'd take it for you if I could." He lifted Harry's jaw and made sure that he looked into the emerald orbs.
"I know."
The blonde propped him up, and then pulled the smaller teen into his lap. "Better now?" he asked as he pulled a blanket over the half-naked Gryffindor.
The raven-haired boy nodded, saying, "Never better," as strong arms wrapped around him. Harry leaned into the embrace and fell asleep.
Morning dawned again, bringing Harry out of a sound slumber, to find the other wrapped tightly around him. Harry's hands were left in his lap, covered by the blanket. Not a single drop of blood rested on Harry's skin, as he looked at the new bite, and stroked it with his left hand.
"Harry? You awake, love?"
Harry smiled. "How is that I always wake up before you?"
"Some mysteries of the universe are never to be explained. Happy Christmas Eve, Harry," the blonde said, kissing Harry on the side of his neck.
"Happy Christmas Eve, love," Harry replied, meeting the lips of his vampire Master in a light kiss.
"So, did you want to exchange presents together tomorrow after breakfast, or after dinner?"
Harry shrugged. "Your choice. I think you'll like what I got you."
"And I know that you will," he said, as the two sat up. "I wish you'd let me fix these scars, Harry." The vampire trailed his hand down the white and pink scars of Harry's lower back.
Harry turned and lifted his eyebrow.
"All right. They're badges of honor and reminders of your strength. But they do tend to draw the eye downward," the blonde sighed.
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Only if you do want to go to breakfast sometime this century. Put your shirt on, or we won't get anywhere," he said, kissing Harry's scar again. "Let's go, Casanova."
Harry passed the day in the library, trying to keep his mind off things, and at the same time, do something productive and possibly useful. Books on possible future careers lay opened in front of him. Auror had always been a possibility, ever since he had first picked up a wand. Defeating wizards who were out to kill him and everyone around him had always been something of a hobby. Part of him wanted to play professional Quidditch, just for the hell of it. Especially since it required little in the way of actual magic.
"Harry?" Sirius' voice called from the other end of the table where Harry sat. "What are you doing here on Christmas Eve?"
"Stressing out. I still haven't figured out what the hell I'm supposed to do once I leave this place," he replied, running his fingers through his shaggy black hair. "I've got how long until I am graduate? About 6 months? I get more post every day from the Ministry, from every Quidditch club in the United Kingdom and two National Teams."
"You could always try for the Aurors' Guild or Magical Law Enforcement, like me." Sirius stood in front of the table, directly across from his apprehensive godson.
Harry laughed. "It's all I've ever done. When I was 11, I defeated a Dark Wizard, at 12, a basilisk and a charmed diary. At 13, I saved your pathetic arse, then at 14, faced down Voldemort again. At 16, I finally defeated Voldemort, ended up hospitalized, and now, I finally have a year Voldemort-free, and I couldn't be happier."
Sirius sat down. "You're right."
Harry sighed. "I suppose I might miss it, but I know there's more out there than the life everyone expects 'the Great Harry Potter' to lead. It's just…"
"You could always do what I did. Sit around on my ass for a year, while your dad dated your mum, got married and became an Auror," Sirius replied. "But I got a motorcycle and a lot of whiskey out of the deal. Cemented my reputation as a party animal."
"I am sensing an 'unfortunately' here," Harry countered skeptically.
"Unfortunately, I lost contact with Remus and Peter, and basically mucked up the whole of our lives."
"Ah," Harry said, turning a page in one of the books. "There's usually a catch when it sounds that good, Sirius. Life's taught me that."
"What's Ron going to do?" Sirius asked, taking another of the books and flipped through, looking at the pictures.
"Aurors' Guild, I think. And Hermione too. They might be the most famous husband and wife Auror team in decades," Harry replied, flipping the page again. "Well, except for the Longbottoms."
"And the rest of your friends?"
Harry sighed. "Neville is going to do research with one of Sprout's colleagues in Mesopotamia. Dean's going to play football for a scout team in England, and Seamus is headed for Magical Law Enforcement. They're pretty much it at this point." Harry scratched his forehead and sighed again.
"And…"
"And he is rich enough that he doesn't have to work. So he's probably on the one year Sirius-sitting-on-your-ass plan," Harry retorted with a smile. "Right now that's sounding pretty damn good."
"You don't have to have all the answers now, Harry," Sirius replied, ruffling his godson's hair.
Harry closed one of the books. "It would most certainly help, godfather."
"That's part of life. Much as it pains me to say that, I still don't have all the answers," the older wizard said.
"No. You just act like you do, Padfoot."
--00--
Thanks to all my excellent reviewers!
Sorry for the delay, but between MCATs, end of term exams and stress about being a senior next year, I am about to keel over dead… and although I had a long weekend recently, my mom came to see me, and I didn't get any of my shit taken care of between Saturday and Sunday. But on the plus side, I have CoS in widescreen on DVD!!!! Yea for movies. By May 10th, I will have all the time in the world to work on fanfic… bear with me until then.
S
RaNdOm Hp FaN