Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part II : Oh What a Difference a Day Makes
Chapter Twenty : Promises, Promises

25 October 2003 (continued)

4:05 pm

Guts churning, Harry stalked out of the infirmary with Albus. Without noticeable success, he strove to quell the growing, seething frustration mostly caused by the inscrutable man walking by his side. It didn't take much for him to identify exactly what was causing his distress: his fundamental love for the old man, developed through the years, contended with Harry's justifiable anger with him, the result being a slow, simmering rage ready to explode out of every pore. When he added to this volatile mixture a frenetic urge to ensure his lover was well and whole, knowing he was not, it was easy for him to determine the sources of his restless frustration.

This knowledge, however, did nothing to help him find a means to assuage it. He resented the resumption of feelings he'd not experienced since leaving Hogwarts, feelings that now seemed foreign, totally unlike his usual casual optimism. He'd worked hard to earn the calm control he normally enjoyed; this quagmire of emotions was making his life a living hell and he wanted it to stop. Now.

Only he had no idea how to do so; he'd never reached this level of animosity before. No, in order to receive the relief he craved from his perdition, it seemed he would have to rely on half-truths from an insufferable man determined to give him as little as possible in exchange for everything: his trust, his faith, and his love.

'All I want is answers. Full answers based on truth. Sounds fairly simple even to me.' But they'd not been forthcoming, and he still remained ignorant of the circumstances and reasons behind the convoluted events of the past day. With each passing minute his anger grew, as did his resolve to find those answers. 'Even if I have to make someone give them to me.'

Marginally aware of his surroundings, Harry automatically headed to the right once they'd left the infirmary, but detoured clumsily when Albus did not move towards the stairway to his office, leading him instead down the stairs closest to the dungeons. As they walked, Dumbledore said, "I am going to beg your indulgence a moment and ask that you not interrupt me too often; we've not much time before I must return here. Moody and Shacklebolt are even now on their way to Hogwarts with Remus and Severus; I've sent Minerva off to help them."

Harry stopped mid-stride, turning back the way they'd just come. Dumbledore put a hand on his arm forestalling his flight. "Yes, yes--I know. We're going in the wrong direction." He smiled to himself. "Actually, we're finally headed to where we need to be, but that is another matter altogether."

"But Severus--" Harry began, straining against the surprisingly strong grip holding him in place.

Dumbledore sighed heavily, his gentle words belied by his hand tightening its hold. "Harry you must not go back to the infirmary to wait for Severus. It is imperative we reach your quarters before they arrive."

Incredulous, Harry stared at the headmaster. What had been a slow burning anger blossomed into a rage so hot he couldn't force words past his closed throat. 'So Albus thinks he's going to keep me from seeing Severus? We'll see about that!'

At Harry's rebellious expression, Albus sighed sympathetically, saying, "I know. You're upset. Anyone would be in your position; however, it is best you not be there when Severus arrives."

'Upset? He thinks THIS is upset?' Harry jerked his arm free. Eyes narrowed dangerously, he hissed venomously, "You meddlesome old man! I am so tired of these--mind-games--you play. You don't care about me, or Severus, so don't insult my sensibilities by pretending otherwise. You've done everything possible to separate us."

Tilting his head, Albus studied him seriously over his spectacles, saying slowly as if Harry were hard of hearing, "No, not everything, but you are correct in your assessment. I am endeavouring to keep a certain distance between the two of you."

'That almost sounded like a straight answer. Is it possible Albus was serious when he said he'd wanted to talk with me?' Harry waited for further explanation, and when it appeared the simple statement was all he was going to get, his impatience won over his hope. "Why? Tell me now, Albus. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't march right back to the infirmary to wait for him." He moved closer to Dumbledore and lowered his voice, the words clipped and precise, "And we both know that should I wish it, there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me."

Albus straightened to his full height, a dangerous gleam in his eye, one Harry had seen many times before when Albus went 'hunting', but never directed at him. Stiffly, he retorted, "Perhaps not. However I have to ask, sir. Is this is your idea of an 'adult' reaction to the situation? Threats and demands?"

Undeterred by Dumbledore's choler, Harry replied, "If that is what it takes to get answers and be with Severus, yes."

Dumbledore snorted in disgust. "So you would abuse your powers to get what you desire? Is this what it comes to in the end? Acting like a spoiled infant throwing a tantrum because you didn't get what you wanted when you wanted it? Wouldn't Severus be so proud?"

Harry almost buckled under the onslaught of Dumbledore's heavy sarcasm, but ultimately it did not stop him pressing the issue. "If I'd 'thrown a tantrum'," he said, mimicking Dumbledore's cutting tone, "when I first 'wanted', I would have hexed you hours ago. And leave Severus out of our discussion. This is solely between you and me."

Dumbledore's face grew grim. "I wish that were true. Unfortunately, Harry, you are wrong. Severus is very much involved; his very life is at stake. Can you see no other solutions? Is outward violence the only means you have to resolve your internal conflicts?"

The two glared at each other in deadlock, the air crackling with their latent magic held at bay by only the thinnest veneer of civility. Harry very much wanted to force the issue. He wanted to wipe the expression off the old man's face for good. Shaking, he screamed at him in his mind. How dare he look at me that way, as if I'm an object of his 'benevolent' pity. He's trying to manipulate me again, but I won't stand for it. Not here. Not now. I want to see Severus. I want some answers. He owes them to me. Harry pulled and raised his wand--

"Don't do this, Harry," was spoken so softly he almost missed it. As if coming out of a fog, he suddenly saw Albus standing openly across from him, his arms held loosely at his sides, wand nowhere in sight.

Defenseless. Then it caught up to him; Harry saw what he was doing, what he'd said. And what it meant. 'Oh gods, I'm acting like--like--Draco!' The sobering realisation quenched his anger as quickly as a bucket of water dousing a paper fire. With dawning horror at what he'd almost done, his head bowed, shoulders slumping as his arm fell, the fingers lax. His wand clattered on the floor. Shame lanced through him. His thoughts swirling, he barely saw an old hand swim into his vision near his feet as it picked up his wand, then it disappeared.

'I almost shrivelled that hand; I wanted to destroy it. Why? What is worth my soul? Severus? No, he would die for me but he would not kill for me. Not like this. For answers to questions I've always entrusted Albus to hold before? Why does it ache now? Is it because I feel powerless? Vulnerable? Yes, and I'm scared. Of what? Of losing Severus? Of being alone again? Oh gods, is that what all this has come to? Is Albus right? I don't understand. Why won't he answer me? Why do I feel like the last person alive on a dead planet? I just want to know--'

"Why?" he whispered. Strong arms came around him, anchoring him back to reality; the steady heartbeat under his head eased the lonely despair against which he struggled. Letting the soothing words he couldn't understand wash over him like a healing balm, he thought of the things he could say. 'I didn't mean it.' But he had. 'I don't know what came over me.' But he did. 'I won't do it again.' But he would. He knew that now. It wasn't over, it would happen again--maybe not today--but sometime, gods help him, he would lose control. And therein lay the better part of his fear. "I'm sorry, Albus. So sorry," he finally breathed--words he could utter sincerely, muffled as they were against Dumbledore's chest.

Albus held him a few minutes more, one hand stroking his unruly hair, the other firm around his shoulders. The quietly spoken, "It's all right, I forgive you," was exactly what Harry needed to regain his equilibrium. Calmer, the anger from before dissipated, leaving him feeling cleaner, readier to pick up his arguments in a reasonable manner, for while Harry was grossly appalled at his actions, the basic need was still there like a burr stuck to his skin; prickly, it rubbed him raw until all that remained was a burning desire to know. This much had not changed with his actions. And he could not say why.

He pulled away, making eye contact with the headmaster, sighing as he said, "You're right--it didn't solve anything did it. I'm sorry I threatened you and I'm sorry for my lack of control. I should know better by now." He stepped back to study Albus' compassion, wondering how he'd ever taken it as pity. Maybe if he tried to explain? "It's just I am so frustrated with this whole situation, and you, blast it, are at the heart of it all. You've slapped me in the face with your silence. It hurts. I want Severus and I want answers. Is that so hard to understand?"

A myriad of emotions crossed Albus' face before it settled on affection. "A natural response given the circumstances." He smoothed his hand over his beard. "I am sorry my thoughts were so focused on upcoming events that I bungled the one occurring right in front of me. I was clumsy in my explanations--" he looked at Harry wryly over his spectacles "--though you hardly gave me a chance to complete what I had to say." Harry flushed, this at least was true. "I do understand. It took years for me to finally master the temper accompanying all this red hair--" he looked down at the beard's snowy whiteness "--well, once red. There are still times it can best me. It never does go away; sometimes the most we can do is hold on and hope our internal core is strong enough to keep us from doing things we will later regret."

Harry nodded, hearing echoes of his own thoughts in Dumbledore's words.

Dumbledore hesitated, saying carefully, "Harry, I do care, more, perhaps, than you will ever know. It pains me that Severus has been hurt and believe me when I say I wish there had been some other way or time to do this."

"Do what? What else are you not telling me?" Harry asked, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "And why, of all the days, did you send him off today?"

Albus chuckled. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I did not awaken this morning saying, 'Ah, Harry's getting married--what can I do to muck it up?'"

Harry muttered, "Well, there's one theory down the drain." Looking back in the direction of the infirmary, he said slowly, "All right, you want to talk. Then do so. Let's start this over, one question at a time." When Albus nodded cautiously, Harry asked, "Why do I need to stay away from Severus?"

Dumbledore relaxed slightly and regarded him kindly a moment. "There are many 'reasons', however, insofar as the infirmary is concerned, Poppy asked me to escort you elsewhere. She is concerned, and I have to concur, that you would be unable to resist healing Severus; at this juncture, doing so could kill him." Seeing Harry's scepticism, he remarked dryly, "Go back if you don't believe me, but don't expect my help when she hexes you onto your bottom."

Harry could sense the truth in his words, although he didn't fully understand them and, drawing breath to protest, let it out all at once in a blowing sigh. Mulling this bit of news over, he was about to comment when Albus touched his arm, interrupting him with an urgency Harry was hard pressed to ignore. "Although I know your dearest wish is to remain here and be with Severus, we should be going. Our time is drawing short and we still have much to discuss."

Resigned, Harry descended the stairs, lost in thought. He could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him. When they reached the bottom-most landing, he capitulated, his shoulders hunched. "She's right; I probably shouldn't try anything when I'm feeling like this and I'm not sure I could stand by and watch someone else work when I think I could do it faster. Hell, I'd kick me out. But, as you said, I'm not at all happy about it. I want to be there. I need to see him, to make sure he's all right."

Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know you do. However, I'm certain, with your handfasting bonds, among other things, you'll be able to ascertain his condition and follow his progress quite well from anywhere you are. Perhaps more intimately, in fact, than you could if you were standing to the side out of the way."

Harry snorted sceptically. "You know I'll try, but we've never been able to open the bonds on a consistent basis when we're apart, and if he's unconscious..."

Albus gave him a mysterious smile, saying cryptically, "Perhaps, but circumstance has a way of changing things at times."

Harry looked at him sharply; there had a been a surprising note of conviction in Albus' voice. "How can you be so sure?" When he got the dismissive shrug that told Harry he'd get no more from him on the subject, he felt the rising tide of his ire. "Damn it, Albus! What the hell is happening? Why won't you answer me? Fuck! This is getting us nowhere."

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they made their way across the Great Hall. His face shadowed with concern, Dumbledore replied calmly in the face of Harry's reemergent irritation, "Much has happened today, Harry, with more yet to come. I know you have many doubts and questions. Unfortunately, at this moment, I do not have the time to answer them all--Severus' and the others' well-being has to be my primary concern. However, once everything is settled, and it will be, I promise, I will come to see you before the ceremony and answer as many of them as I am able. My only request echoes Poppy's in that you stay in your quarters until then." He nodded cordially to a group of students who greeted them as they passed.

Harry's own acknowledgement of them was distracted as he grumbled heatedly, "In other words, you'll answer only those you see fit to answer. Why did I think this time would be any different?"

Stopping them with a hand on Harry's arm, Dumbledore shook his head, saying gently but firmly, "No. As full an explanation as I am able to give you." He sighed. "You are not the only one with frustrations. I cannot 'give' you all the answers if you don't ask the right questions. Some of the answers you already have but fail to see, others you need to discover on your own--before you're married. The rest will lead you to the questions you should be asking."

Harry searched his face and saw nothing but honesty there. He thought on it as they made their way down the many stairs to the dungeons, Albus silent beside him. "But to what questions?" Harry mused to himself. "You've given me almost no answers, so in light of the bigger picture, how am I to know which ones are the ones I am supposed to find versus those you choose to reveal to me? How can I sort through it all when I'm missing all the pieces?"

Albus glanced at Harry and handed him a crumpled piece of parchment folded neatly into quarters. "I'm sorry you'll have to wait to hear some of 'the bigger picture', but as a start, perhaps this will help. If you want a better understanding just how it came into my possession, I suggest you talk to Horatio and lavish him with much attention; he brought it to me."

Harry said nothing, turning the paper over and over in his hands. Having reached the dungeons, he could feel Dumbledore itching to leave and decided to wait to open it until he got back to his quarters; he stuffed the foolscap into the pocket of his robes. "Horatio?"

"Hmmm. Yes. He travelled through the castle while you and Dobby were in Diagon Alley, I believe. Quite the hero, if I may say so, but Fawkes tells me Horatio explains it better than I."

Harry stared at Dumbledore. "You can talk to Fawkes?"

Albus chuckled. "Perhaps it would be better to say that at the oddest times Fawkes chooses to make his mind known to me. Usually, like today, I get scolded."

"I'm glad someone does it," Harry muttered. He looked over at Dumbledore. "How do you do that? You're redirecting again."

They stopped at the entrance to Harry's quarters. Albus' smile reached his eyes, spreading across his whole face. "No, actually, Harry, you were redirecting. I merely gave you the chance to do so." He waved his hand over the door, opening it.

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Does Severus know you can open our door despite the wards?"

"Of course he does. He just likes to--ignore it as best he can." Dumbledore leaned in, whispering. "You know how private he can be sometimes." Straightening, he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I must be off. Perhaps you should take this time, before I come back, to think on what has happened today and how it relates to events and circumstances in the past." He gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze and turned to leave back up the hallway.

Harry's hand on his arm stopped him. "I'm afraid, Albus. What if I don't find these 'answers' in time? Answers you say you can't give me. What then?"

Dumbledore put his hands on Harry's upper arms and, leaning in, gave him a kiss on the forehead much like the ones Harry always gave him when he healed him. With utter sincerity he said quietly, "You will find it if you seek it. Listen to your heart; it's what you do best. But know one thing--" he held up his finger and thumb, the distance between them miniscule "--you are this close and I have absolute faith in you. Severus will meet you tonight, in the appointed place, near the appointed time to make vows with you."

Green eyes held the tired gaze of blue ones. "You promise, Albus?" he asked, the simple question holding so many unspoken levels of meaning.

The softening of Albus' face plainly showed he understood all the things Harry didn't voice as he replied with quiet certainty, "Yes, Harry, I promise." And with a kiss to his cheek, he removed his hands from Harry's arms, turning again to leave. Stopping, Harry heard him murmur, "Oh, yes, mustn't forget that." He just as quickly faced Harry again, contrite. "My apologies." Digging in the pockets of his robe and, with a raised brow, he pulled out Harry's wand and handed it to him. "I believe you dropped this?"

Harry's fist closed around it. "Thanks," he said, non-plussed.

"You're most welcome, my boy," Albus said, turning to leave before Harry could reply.

Holding back a sharp retort to the headmaster's retreating back, Harry closed his eyes only for a moment and when he opened them, Albus was gone.

Shaking his head that he had once again been deflected from his purpose, Harry stared at the empty space in front of him, muttering, "Only thing missing was the cup of tea."

Harry went inside and pulled the door closed behind him. As was his habit when he was upset, he climbed into one of the deep window seats in the sitting room, his back resting against the wall, legs stretched out before him on the crimson cushions. Staring unseeing at the setting sun out of the closed window, a crinkling in his pocket reminded him of the parchment Dumbledore had given him. He pulled it out, for some reason reluctant to open it. Glancing over at Horatio, who was sleeping, coiled on the hearth, Harry unfolded what turned out to be a note from Severus and began to read.

TBC