Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part II : Oh What a Difference a Day Makes
Chapter Ten : Let the Game Begin

24 October 2003

9:12 pm

Wide awake, Severus kept telling himself it was too early to go to sleep, and while his mind firmly believed this, his body remained sceptical. He heartily wished his brain would, for once, just shut up and listen to the sensible argument his tired body made, for the morrow promised to be a busy day filled with all the little last minute preparations one did on one's wedding day. And in the evening he would join with the man lying snug in his arms, fast asleep. Lucky sod. Given his current insomnia, he almost envied him; he suspected it would be hours before he finally followed him.

Resigned to his sleeplessness, he chuckled softly, thinking of why Harry was uncharacteristically slumbering when normally they would be in the sitting room drinking a brandy. Paying him back for that little incident under the desk had been most satisfying. The headmaster, however, was not so amused.

He winced, remembering the dressing-down they'd received right before dinner from Dumbledore for such 'unbecoming conduct'. It had taken them a few moments to realise that, while he reprimanded them openly for the report from the young Hufflepuff about their kiss (grossly exaggerated, as they'd thought), he was actually chastising them for the other little interlude as well, although he had the good grace (or cowardice, as Harry had suggested over their rare roast) not to mention it. 'Of course, it was a bit difficult to take Albus too seriously with that roguish smile he kept trying to hide.' At the end of Dumbledore's rather genteel tirade, he'd felt more like a schoolboy caught out-of-bounds in the kitchen than a grown man who'd been 'caught' doing things he really shouldn't have been doing. Or at least not in public.

He was still shaking his head at Harry's boldness--sucking him off under his desk in the middle of an essay test. 'What had he been thinking?' He grinned in the dark and placed a kiss on Harry's head. 'Who cares what he'd been thinking!' Harry was not alone in his fantasies; while the scenario hadn't matched his own exactly, it was close enough to satisfy beyond the obvious conclusions. His 'revenge' this evening had been sweet even if the dish had been served piping hot. Exhausted, Harry had easily succumbed to sleep.

Severus shifted slightly to settle Harry better. Truth was, he was restless, both in mind and body, despite the tempting pull of exhaustion. On the one hand he wanted to continue this rare moment of peace by gathering Harry closer and holding him fast until midnight when he'd promised Poppy that he would retire to another chamber until the wedding; on the other, his body wanted to walk off the antsy feeling pooling in his legs. This hated jitteriness within him was nothing new and was the past source of his nightly prowling; it usually heralded a conflict within himself or, in rarer instances, something outside of himself requiring attention.

But for now it just confounded him--there was nothing he could discern as a cause. Perhaps it was because their nightly routine had been disturbed and would continue to be so? Probably not; he was not that much a creature of habit. Could his promise to Poppy be the cause? He didn't think so, although he'd not wanted to participate in something as inane as following the 'tradition' of not seeing his intended the day of the wedding. Despite their arguments and the spot of blackmail she'd used to finally secure his 'promise', he'd briefly thought of ignoring it anyway, but knew Albus would somehow find out--he always did--and given the events of the last month and his own extortions from the old man, Albus would delight in finding something to turn the tables on him.

It was unsettling, however, the disquieting feeling growing stronger, more urgent. Not even his first fruitless endeavours with the Epithalamium had brought this type of frustrated reaction. Oh, it might have induced the urge to shatter everything breakable within magic's distance, but not this agitated compulsion to move. He smiled grimly, thinking of the hours he'd spent writing the thing; time in which he had poured his sorry self onto the parchment, wanting desperately to snatch it back before anyone else could see the depth of emotion he'd invested in the verses. He still wasn't certain he could really say them out loud for everyone to hear, but he supposed he would overcome the hesitancy when the time came. At least it was finished.

The Assimilation Vow had been a different matter altogether. While the Closed Form was quite specific as to the 'elements' required, the actual verbiage was left up to the couple. Given their different natures, he'd expected more difficulty, but in retrospect, the unique spell they'd created the other night to bind the intentions contained in their respective Epithalamia (which they'd not revealed to each other) had been a stroll around the lake. He suspected the ease was due more to the strictures of the Form than any 'cooperation' on their part; there were only so many ways one could say the same thing. And it held power. The two times they'd practiced it, in unison, had sent shivering portents of the final binding through them.

He turned his head and looked at the clock. 'Only a little after nine; it really is too early to sleep. I almost wish I had the heart, or lack of it, to wake Harry just to have him help me while away the time. He would if I asked, but it would be grossly unfair, given how I put him to sleep in the first place.'

He carefully kept his mind closed lest his unruly thoughts awaken his lover. He snorted, thinking of the first couple of weeks after their handfasting where the strangest things would waltz around in his head like leaves on an autumn wind. Harry had, how could he say it, an eccentric outlook on life and a vivid imagination. While Severus had always enjoyed the bubbling enthusiasm his lover brought to their relationship, one he'd never in his life truly experienced, he'd laughingly agreed with Harry's embarrassed comment one night (after his wayward thoughts had disrupted Severus' teaching, again) that 'This is rather like two people wearing the same pair of knickers when one has to fart.'

And tomorrow night, the sharing would be even stronger. Harder to control or hide. 'Is this what's bothering me? The potential loss of control--again? Honestly, I'd thought the initial intrusion would be worse, but other than sensing Harry's emotions if strong enough and the sporadic images he sometimes sends, it hasn't been too uncomfortable. Although, I must admit to some relief when we finally learned how to wield it purposefully, even if we never quite figured out just how far it could stretch.' No, Harry had always been respectful of his privacy--something else was making him uneasy.

He weighed his options. Did he want to go walkabout? Or did he want to stay here? Cold rooms and even more frigid corridors? Or a warm bed with a warmer body? Alone? Or snuggled close with another? Seemed fairly simple when he thought of it that way--Harry and the warm haven they currently occupied won hands down. 'Besides, if I still feel the urge in,' he looked again at the clock, 'two hours and thirty eight minutes, I can always do it then.' For now, he just wanted a cuddle.

As he was pulling Harry closer, slowly so as not to wake him, an unwelcome buzzing began in his head, sounding like a swarm of angry bees. He waited, hoping it was a fluke, but no, it came again, louder and more insistent. 'This is NOT happening!' But it was not his imagination and he knew from long prior experience that if he ignored it, the bees inside his head would start 'stinging' him until he suffered actual pain. He groaned to himself and immediately started to loosen his hold on his lover, preparing to get out of bed. 'Damn him! What the hell does he want NOW?'

Years since he'd felt it, the summons from Dumbledore was as unmistakable as it was irresistible. Easing away from Harry, he eventually made it out of the warm bed without waking him. Donning winter slippers he kept handy by the side of the bed against the cold stone on his bare feet, he briskly walked, naked, over to the wardrobe, shivering as the chill air stole the bed-warmth off his skin. About to throw on his robes, he stopped and then, in a small act of defiance, threw on an ancient, long, flannel nightshirt that went to the floor and his heavy winter dressing gown. 'I'll be damned if I dress more than this until I know what's going on,' he thought, tightening the belt as he made his way to see the headmaster.

9:39 pm

Striding through the corridors, his slippers loudly slapping the stone flags with each pounding step, he noticed not the two Prefects, one Gryffindor, the other from his own house who, with unusual common sense and self-preservation, dodged out of the way after witnessing his thunderous face and hearing his muttered imprecations. He silently fumed while the stair corkscrewed its way up to the entrance of Dumbledore's office. 'What can possibly be so important to keep me from a full night's sleep the eve before my wedding? This had better be good!'

He was not the first to arrive; Remus was already sitting quietly, drinking tea with Albus--both were obviously waiting for him. Remus grinned when he saw Severus' state of dishabille. "Hope Harry's not too pissed-off," he knowingly called out with a cheeky wink as Severus crossed the room to throw himself into the other seat. Dumbledore wordlessly slid a hot cup of tea across the desk, snatching his hand back a bit too quickly.

"Harry, unlike myself, is sound asleep." He glared at the headmaster. "As if you didn't know that already. So kind of you to wait."

"Severus, you know I would not have used the Order's summons if it wasn't important." Albus chided him, sipping his tea.

"Well, I certainly hope it is something more important than a belated detention." He took the cup of tea and, after getting a nose full of steam, set it back on the desk to cool.

"Detention?" Remus asked, his brows raising. "What have you been up to now?" Severus, the faintest flush of colour staining his cheeks, wisely said nothing and Remus laughed. "Oh ho! Must have been pretty damn good, then."

With a wicked chuckle, Severus replied smugly, "Oh, it was. VERY good, that is."

"Gentlemen," Dumbledore chastised them, uncommonly sober. "Time is a-wasting. We have business here tonight."

"Later, Severus," Remus shot back, "you can tell me all about it later."

"Not on your life, Wolf," he retorted, turning his attention back to the headmaster.

Dumbledore's reproving glance notwithstanding, Severus could tell from years of reading him that Albus was excited about something. Something he'd found or wanted. In the past, this frequently meant Severus could look forward to some kind of unpleasantness, as he was usually the one asked to 'fetch' it--whatever or whoever it was. Since he'd left his patience tucked in a nice snug bed in the dungeons, he found himself particularly rude as he said, "Out with it, old man. I have a warm bed awaiting me and I would like to reoccupy it as quickly as possible. If you'll recall, tomorrow promises to be a bit busy."

"Not tonight I'm afraid, old friend. Tonight, you and Remus go hunting." Dumbledore paused, Severus was sure for the effect. A quick, narrow-eyed glance at Remus confirmed he was having the same suspicions. What really rankled was that Dumbledore didn't seem perturbed by their reactions.

"Hunting?" Severus snorted with open exasperation. "Albus, the only thing I want to 'find' at this moment is the door to my chambers." Recognising the stubborn line hidden by the small smile on the old man's lips, he asked, "Tell me, what inducement could you possibly offer to entice me--" he shot a glance at Remus "--us to do your bidding?" When he failed to get a response, his tone dropped, silky but menacing. "You cannot command me, anymore; I am no longer a member of the Order, as you well know. I am through with all that," Severus reprehended him. He ignored Remus' stunned face; Albus was still the only one to know he and Harry had resigned several weeks ago--all part of their new understanding with each other. He'd been surprisingly relieved and grateful to let go of that part of his life, although he chafed under the 'conditions' the old bugger had set, even if Harry bore the brunt of them.

"I know, I know. However, I need you and your special skills." Dumbledore paused again for effect. "I have just received word that Peter Pettigrew was spotted at The Jolly Mandrake in Knockturn Alley and is there even now. I want you both to conduct him here. I don't have to tell either of you how important it is we capture him and bring him to justice."

Remus was visibly excited. Even with his best friend gone, he still dreamt of the day he could clear Sirius' name. Not only to see Peter pay the price for his crimes, but also to ensure Harry got the considerable inheritance Sirius had intended for him; it was frozen at the moment due to Sirius' 'criminal' status. There was little time remaining before the Ministry would be able line their own pockets by claiming it as 'restitution' for the damages done. He sat forward on the edge of his chair as if he was going to spring up at any second and leave.

'Oh wonderful, just what I need. A rabid werewolf,' Severus thought as he said, "Peter Pettigrew? Why now? Why tonight? Why did the rat finally crawl out of his hole?" Severus' paranoia was never far from the surface; he was suspicious. Perhaps this was the source of his earlier unease; while obviously not a Diviner, it wouldn't be the first time he'd anticipated one of Albus' little 'games'. Pulled in despite himself, he asked, "And how do we know it's not a trap?"

Dumbledore was smug as he said, "My source is quite reliable."

Severus shrugged, unimpressed. "So was I at one time, but that didn't mean some of the information I gave you wasn't planted, especially towards the end, as we both well know. Be that as it may, assuming you're right, why not send the Aurors after him, Albus? Why us?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Two reasons. One, you and Remus are the only ones out of a handful left who would recognise Peter from actually knowing him. Most of the others of the Order would have to rely on photos and this is much too important to risk to chance, especially if he uses a disguising spell--they could walk right by him and never realise it."

Remus spoke up, "Harry knows him as well. Perhaps we should ask him to come with us."

"NO! Absolutely not!" was cried out almost in panic at the same time as the more calmly spoken, "No, I don't think that would be a wise idea." Dumbledore quelled Severus with a stern glance over his spectacles and continued reasonably, "Harry is not trained for clandestine missions."

Remus looked between the two stony faces and shrugged. "Sorry, it was just a thought."

Seeing Severus' silent sigh of relief, Albus went on. "Where was I? Oh, yes--two. Without solid proof, other than my word, Arthur cannot send the Aurors without the risk of losing Pettigrew forever. Even if he captured Peter and wrung the truth out of him with Veritaserum, he could not mandate him to Azkaban without properly obtained evidence. And he feels even Pettigrew has the right to due process.

Severus shook his head. "But if we capture him and get this 'evidence', just as illegally I might add, and then send him to Arthur--this is more acceptable?"

Remus was incredulous. "Don't cloud the issue, Severus. What's important is we make the bastard pay, not how we go about it!" His vehemence and impatience to be gone filled the large room.

Unruffled, Snape regarded him from hooded eyes. His cool words spoken low hit Remus like ice water. "I am not 'clouding the issue,' as you say. I am trying to clarify matters. Hear me well, Remus. Based on our friendship alone and despite the evidence of my own eyes of his insipid grovelling before the Dark Lord, I accepted your word that Wormtail was wholly responsible for the Potters' deaths. I never questioned Harry's assertions that the whining rat, who would soil himself every time Voldemort cursed him, was instrumental in bringing his Master back twice. I doubted him not that the snivelling coward defied his Master not once, but three times to save Harry's life. For that alone, I might even forgive him."

He finally took a sip of the tea, warming a voice already tired and dry. He continued quietly with more than a hint of honeyed steel, the words no less inexorable for their softness. "However, I cannot, I will not, deny him his basic civil rights as a human being without some extremely compelling reasons. I cannot afford to do so. Had others treated my involvement with the Dark Lord in the same cavalier and reckless manner, I might even now be a drooling vegetable, rotting in some forgotten back cell in Azkaban, and we would NOT be having this conversation." He sat back in the chair wondering why he even bothered explaining himself. It never changed anything.

Remus was stunned at the calm words spoken with such fire. Even Dumbledore was taken aback. They regarded him thoughtfully for some moments. Dumbledore finally broke the silence, clearing his throat. "Even so, Severus, despite the appearance of speculation, we know it's true. I have seen it as well. However, you make a valid point. Might I suggest a compromise? Bring him here; I will guarantee his safety. We will question him in any manner you deem fair to the circumstances and if we're wrong we let him go, none the wiser."

"And if you're right?" Severus queried harshly, grinding the words out.

"He goes to Arthur for trial just like any other Death Eater, with the evidence presented as I see fit." Dumbledore patiently waited.

Severus knew Albus was leaving the decision entirely up to him and would not break the long-standing trust they'd held between them for years by ordering him to go--not that he could anymore. Albus might have been devious for years, but, as a fellow Slytherin, he could appreciate the ways he'd got around that trust. However, this was different; it contained subtle reminders of old life debts accrued and past payments not necessarily made in full.

Albus was earnest, showing no signs of subterfuge, and Severus knew how important it was to catch Pettigrew--not because of the Potters, as Harry thought, or Sirius' estate, as Remus surmised, but because of the Dark knowledge Peter alone now carried. Dark magic not contained in Severus' library, nor anywhere else for that matter, except within the confines of a twisted mind. As long as he remained alive and free, with his sycophantic ways, there was always a chance another Voldemort could rise. Peter was not strong enough to survive without someone to lead him, and right now, that person was probably Lucius Malfoy. The thought of Lucius, with his sadistic tendencies, possessing Voldemort's hidden knowledge made him shudder in dread.

And then there was the issue of Harry and his feelings about Sirius to consider. Unhappy with this situation, he knew he would go, if only because he couldn't face Harry if he did not. It was the best choice in a pool of worse ones. 'If I choose to stay and not help, Harry will be relieved, but there would also be a part of him resenting that I had not taken the opportunity to clear Sirius the way I said I wanted to. Conversely, my participation is likely to send him in a tailspin; the backlash of his deserved anger will be fierce. No, I think I would rather face Harry's ire than a lifetime of potential recriminations.'

Severus sighed, inured to unpleasantness any way he looked at it. "Very well, I accept your conditions, but hear me well, old man--this makes us even." He stared unflinchingly at Dumbledore until he received the firm nod he required. Payment in full upon delivery. "I will assist Remus in catching Wormtail if only to keep him from killing the blighter on sight. His obvious impatience to be away and finally catch the rat looks like it's making him itch." Remus grinned in relief. "Let me gather my things and tell Harry where I'm going and we can be away."

Dumbledore squirmed in his chair. "Ah, Severus, you may not inform Harry where you are going, or why."

Severus growled, "Then we have a problem, Albus. Harry and I have a promise to each other that we will always let the other know where we are when away. I'll not break that promise, even for you."

This was clearly not something Dumbledore had anticipated. He thought hard about it and said, "Very well, leave him a note telling him you've been called away, at my request, and he can consult with me should it be necessary. Will that be acceptable?"

Severus had a bad feeling about this; the last time he and Harry had played with half-truths it had split them apart and even after two months, the healing of their rift sometimes still felt new and raw. "Only if you stick around long enough for him to find you, Albus. I wouldn't put it past you to evade him until we get back. I will not have him worried needlessly."

"And I'll not have him going after you!" Dumbledore retorted sharply.

Letting loose an inarticulate curse, Severus thought, 'Yes, there is that. And Harry would, too. Damn the man for his perceptions!' He sighed and surrendered. "That's barely acceptable, but I acknowledge you're right. Harry would come looking for me if I'm not back when he awakes or if he thinks I'm in trouble. Damn you, Albus."

Remus had watched this little exchange with interest but was eager to go. "C'mon, you auld sod. Let's get cracking--we've not much time."

"We've as much time as I feel we have, but I'll be back in a few minutes if only to keep you from your own foolhardiness by leaving without me." He rose from the chair and, with one long, hard-eyed look at Albus, was gone.

10:25 pm

Getting dressed quickly and silently out of long habit, Severus could not suppress the urgent feeling that this whole escapade was a Very Bad Idea. His instincts were screaming at him to not go, that something horrible was going to happen. He smirked to himself. 'Since when has a little detail like that stopped me?'

Adrenaline flowing, he pulled on short fingerless gloves over which he strapped his gauntlets, similar to the one's Harry had used, only lighter, more flexible, making sure the daggers within were settled properly; he was never comfortable relying on just one kind of defence. To this he added a stout wooden staff, which he settled into a soft leather belt he tightened around his waist. It was just out of sight, but in easy reach of his hand. He remembered the day he'd got it from Ollivander when he'd turned 19; ironwood, 14" extending to as much as 62", with a dragon heartstring--the same as Harry's. Once gripped in a certain way, it would expand to whatever deadly length he needed. This was his magical weapon of choice as it served as both stave and wand.

Ready, he put on his cold weather travelling cloak, his wand sliding with ease into its holder in the full sleeve. It felt odd to be wearing his fighting clothes again. Going into his study, he wrote the note--only he hedged his bets and defied Albus just a little:

Harry--

Pulled out of retirement by Dumbledore to go on one last mission for the Order--we have a chance to cage a certain rodent of our mutual acquaintance. I should be back before you awaken. If you're reading this and you didn't wake with me, go hunt up the old bastard and demand he tell you where I am. Hex him if you have to. He'll know what to do.

You know I wouldn't leave if it weren't important and certainly not on a chilly night like this; I'd rather be warm in bed with you.

I love you,

Severus

He hesitated on the last bit; he never ended his notes to Harry like that--it wasn't expected, just understood, and he was concerned Harry might get overly anxious if he saw it. However, given his gut feeling and his previous unease, he couldn't not say it, just in case.

He left the loosely rolled note standing up on the mantel over the sitting room fireplace where they normally left such things when the need arose. Horatio, snug near the banked fire in his warming pillow Harry had made for him last month, watched him place the note there. He sensed his master's tension, but, being a snake, felt no need to alleviate it. He merely observed from his coils under the cover and hissed. Severus didn't notice him and left without a word. Horatio gave the equivalent of a snake shrug and went back to his dozing.

Severus re-entered the bedchamber and stood a moment by the bed just looking at his lover and soon-to-be husband. A rarely-expressed feeling of tenderness washed over him, and he fixed in his memory this peaceful portrait of a rumpled Harry curled around Severus' pillow, nose buried in it as if he were absorbing his smell. He put his knee and hands on the bed and leant in to place a gentle kiss on the side of the face exposed to him. As he was pulling back, Harry partially woke, his eyes blinking sleepily.

"Mmmm? Severus? Why are you dressed?" he asked on a sigh.

He couldn't resist, a sleepy Harry must be kissed. He did so, the soft, pliable lips under his almost his undoing. Very softly he said, "I couldn't sleep, so I'm going out for a little stroll. I'll be back soon."

Harry smiled at him and shook his head. "Mmph. You and your walks. Want some company?" He yawned.

He almost gave it up. Pettigrew was not worth this to him. But he was to Albus and the Order; his honour had been stung. "No love, there is no reason for both of us to lose sleep. I just need some time alone, as always."

"All right," Harry said trustingly. "I'll be here--only put some socks on when you come to bed--your feet are always so cold when you get back."

Severus chuckled. Harry always said that and he always forgot. "Right--socks--I'll try to remember." With another, longer kiss, he tried to convey his love. Harry got the message and kissed him back, his hand snaking out from under the covers, the sleep-warm fingers digging in his hair.

"Sure you want to go walking?" he asked huskily, dreamily aroused despite the hour and what had put him to sleep in the first place.

There was nothing like drowsy love making. 'Gods, I'd like nothing better than to crawl into this bed and make you whimper for mercy, but I'm wasting time,' he thought wistfully but said, "I'm sure, love. Be back soon."

"'Night, Severus. 'Love you," he murmured burying his face back into the pillow, already half asleep.

"I love you, too," he whispered backing from the bed.

In honour of his agreement with Dumbledore and knowing Harry would sleep lightly until he came back, he pulled out his wand. Harry never heard nor felt the whispered "Sopophorus" of the sleeping spell Severus cast.

With one long, last look, he turned and was away.

TBC